by Becky Siame
The thought is like a punch to the stomach. How can I not be around as Abe and Fi grow up? See them go on their first dates, graduate from school, get married? Sure, they’d have their father and Tiresa and Mama Rose to watch over them, but I know what it’s like to have your mother die: the pain of knowing she’s not coming back from the hospital, the darkness which engulfs the future, a future with no mother’s tender love to see you through it. Children need their mother, but am I willing to change myself to be there for them?
I get up and go to the bathroom. The fluorescent light flickers on and I stare at myself in the mirror. “I will change for their sakes and for my sake. I will lose this damn weight and be healthy again. And I will not give up until I do!”
The me in the mirror looks red-eyed, angry and on the verge of tears. There is no victory trumpet blast, no crescendo of music to go along with my vow. There’s just a sniffling fat lady who doesn’t look like she can accomplish anything, let alone lose at least 70kg. But that’s me and I know the spark I feel in my heart. I have to do this. I have to do this for my health and my family.
I also know I need to do it to prove myself worthy to Tiresa and Mika so I can move on and leave them behind. I will not be beaten down during their moment in the spotlight. Dad is right: I need to take charge. Mama Rose is right: I will dust myself off and leave my mistakes behind. I will show Tiresa and Mika that I am worthy. I will prove to Tiresa that I won’t be shunned; I’ll show Mika that I am a desirable person and not a sex object.
“I can do this. I will do this,” I tell the mirror. She doesn’t look convinced, but I’m going to do it anyway.
Back at the bedside, I squeeze Pa’s hand. “Don’t die on me, Dad. I need you. Abe and Fi need you. And I’m taking charge for real. I want you to be proud of me, so stick around, okay?”
Dad lays there, unresponsive. The machine he’s hooked up to blinks. And I continue to pray.
•
The clock above the television reads 2:30 a.m. as I stumble through the door, weary in body but wide awake in mind from worry and caffeine - the white chocolate cappuccino was not decaf and I can still feel its effects hours later. The nurse advised me to go home and get some rest so that when Dad is awake tomorrow I may be there to talk to him.
I drop into the chair at my tiny computer desk and open the laptop. It hesitates a few seconds before the screen pops up from sleep mode. I check my email with the intention of shooting Sands and Riyaan a quick note about Dad and ask them to meet for coffee tomorrow afternoon.
The inbox says I have four messages. One is a twenty percent off anything in the store coupon from Taking Shape; one is from Sands beating me to the request to meet tomorrow for coffee; one is spam that snuck through the spam filter; and one says, “RoMANce wants to chat with you” in the subject line. It’s from the singles site.
I shake my head in disbelief. After the fiasco with Wesley, I changed my weight to my real weight and experienced an abrupt cessation of interested parties. Though I was paid up for three months, I can’t count how many times I got on the site with the intention of deleting my account, but didn’t on the hope that maybe, possibly, some guy would want to get to know me.
I click on the link and log into my account. A record is kept of all communication between members. The email says, “RoMANce sent you a message: Hi. Saw your profile and wanted to introduce myself. Maybe we can chat sometime and see if we have something in common.”
I click on the link to his profile and am disappointed that there’s no photo. However, the rest of his profile is impressive. Too much so, in fact. “Probably a liar looking to score,” I mutter. RoMANce likes fast cars, works in acquisitions, is addicted to coffee, and would like a family of his own one day. He likes sports and old cowboy movies - “Oh no, it’s probably Harrison,” I groan - and a fine bottle of wine on a starry night to share with a special lady. “And he wants to get to know me?” I laugh. Well, I did need a laugh, something to cheer me up after an awful night.
I’m not finished reading his profile when a red chat window pops up: “RoMANce wants to chat: Yes or No?” I gasp. Right now, somewhere in New Zealand, Australia or the islands, a man wants to talk. To me. At 2:30 a.m.
“Why not?” I ask aloud and click on, “Yes.” The chat window changes from red to green.
RoMANce: Hi there. You got my chat request?
ShyNSweet: Yes, just now. Was out late at the hospital, otherwise I wouldn’t have seen your message until tomorrow. I mean later today.
RoMANce: Hospital? Hope everything is all right?
I shake my head in disbelief. Was I really going to talk about Dad with a complete stranger? Why not, that voice in my head asks. It’s not like I have anyone else to talk to in the middle of the night. I tap the keys:
ShyNSweet: My father was injured in an accident. It’s pretty bad but I think he’ll pull through.
RoMANce: So sorry. Sending out good thoughts for his speedy recovery.
ShyNSweet: Thank you.
RoMANce: Do you mind me asking what happened? If I’m being too nosy just tell me.
ShyNSweet: No, not at all. He broke his neck in a fall and now has a brace bolted to his head. It’s huge. I don’t know how he’ll stand it because the doctor says he has to wear it for six weeks and remain in hospital. And on top of that, x-rays shows he has cancer again and will need chemo.
RoMANce: That’s a heavy burden for him and you.
How are you handling it?
ShyNSweet: I hardly know. One minute I want to cry and the next I’m angry at life for doing this to him. I want him to be around for a long time. His medical bills are going to be atrocious. I don’t know how he’ll pay them or in-home care if he’ll need it. It’s overwhelming to think about.
RoMANce: He’s lucky to have a daughter like you who cares so much.
ShyNSweet: I’m lucky to have a father like him to care for. At least one good thing has come out of this accident.
RoMANce:???
ShyNSweet: I decided to turn my life around and take better care of myself. I want to be around for my kids for a long time.
RoMANce: Good for you to turn a tragedy into a springboard for change. How are you going to take better care of yourself?
ShyNSweet: I plan to lose A LOT of weight, diet and exercise. I want to get healthy and stay healthy.
RoMANce: Way to go. Do you have a specific diet in mind? Exercise regimen?
ShyNSweet: LOL not yet but a friend of mine who owns a gym will help me out.
RoMANce: Well, congratulations on setting out on this new course in life. I hope we continue chatting because I’d like updates on how you’re doing.
ShyNSweet: Okay. But I’m afraid I might be rather boring. Sweating and starving doesn’t make for very good conversation.
RoMANce: I’ll be the judge of that;^)
ShyNSweet: So what keeps you up until 2am?
RoMANce: A large non-decaf coffee
ShyNSweet: LOL I know the feeling. Hey, it’s been nice chatting with you but I really need to get some sleep before heading back to the hospital tomorrow.
RoMANce: Will you be online again soon? Mind if we chat some more?
ShyNSweet: Not at all. I usually get online after 10pm.
RoMANce: Then I hope to catch you again around 10pm. Goodnight ShyNSweet.
ShyNSweet: Goodnight.
I log off the site, and shut the laptop. “That was interesting,” I say to myself. RoMANce seems nice and considerate, but I hope he’s for real and not a Harrison, Wesley or Mika in disguise. I’ve had enough of men who are stuck on themselves. For once, it is nice to talk to a man who shows interest and concern in my life. Me, my problems, my goals, and not my body and what they can get from it.
Yes, I think as I crash into bed, it’s very nice.
•
It’s 3 o’clock at Café Crave and everyone is there on time.
“You look like heck,” Sands says as I deposit my butt into a chair and
my bunch of keys on the table. “Not another Wesley date, I hope.”
Riyaan throws her a disgusted glare. “Do you always have to do that, insult my girl Bella? Why do you have to be such a hater?”
“Riyaan, she’s fine,” I defend Sands. “She’s always been this way and I always ignore her. No, Sands, I did not have another Wesley date, though I did see him again, but that’s another story. My pa’s in hospital and I was there half there night.”
“What’s wrong?” both my friends asked in unison.
“He broke his neck,” I reply.
“You’re kidding! How’d it happen?” Sands gasps.
“He slipped in the yard or something - he can’t remember clearly. A neighbor found him and they rushed him to A & E and surgically implanted bolts into his neck to keep a head and neck brace on him. He has to stay there for six weeks. He had surgery last night and was sedated until late this morning. At least I was there when he woke up.”
“That’s awful, just awful. But I’m glad he’s okay,” Riyaan comments.
Sands makes a disgusted sound. “He’s in a neck brace that’s surgically bolted to his body for six weeks and you think that’s okay?”
“I meant I’m glad he’s not dead. Give me a break,” Riyaan huffs. “Oops, sorry Bella. No pun intended about the break. Let me get your mocacchino.”
“And a cup of coffee for Cat,” I add, seeing her walk by the window. I wave her inside.
Now Riyaan makes a disgusted sound. “Ew! Can’t we have just one Girl’s Afternoon Out without her?”
“Who’s the hater now?” Sands smirks.
Riyaan mutters something and stomps off. Sands sniggers at his back. “Wow, Bella. I don’t know how you handle it, all these bad news flashes one after the other. I shudder to think of what’s next.”
“Hold onto your seat,” I warn. “Dad has cancer again. This time it’s in his lungs and brain stem.”
“No!” Sands wails. “I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it.”
Cat arrives the table. I smile at her. “Hey, Cat how are you?”
“I’ve been better,” she sits down next to me. “Got any more pills?”
I ignore her. “They did a CAT scan, which is how they found out. They want to start chemo once he’s out of the brace.”
“How’d he take the news?”
“Remarkably well,” I reply. “The doctors didn’t want to tell him until the shock of having his neck broken and being in the brace wore off some, but Dad knew they were trying to hide something and made them talk. Do you know what his response was? He said he was glad he broke his neck, because otherwise they may have never found the cancer before it was too late.”
Sands shakes her head. “Your Dad is one amazing man. And you seem to be handling this just as well.”
I nod, fingering my keys. “I was a wreck until he woke up, worried about the insurance and where’s the money going to come from, besides this new cancer scare. But Dad has such a positive outlook that I just can’t help but follow his lead. Anyway, that’s not all my news.”
Sands puts a hand over her heart. “I really can’t take any more. Is this about Wesley?”
“Yes, he’s involved.” I reply. “It’s just like an episode of Shortland Street. Except worse.”
“I remember watching that,” says Cat. “Is that still on TV? I liked that gay paramedic. He was cute for a gay paramedic.”
“Who’s a gay paramedic?” asks Riyaan as he returns with our drinks.
“Jamie,” says Cat.
Riyaan sits. “Mmm, sounds intriguing. Where can I find him?”
“You can’t. He’s gone.”
Riyaan sticks out his lower lip. “Aw!”
Sands waves a hand to dismiss their conversation. “Never mind Shortland Street; back to Bella’s soap opera. So what’s up?” she prods.
I fill them in on all the details of what happened at AmandaE (Riyaan vows to organise a boycott of the store by his cross-dressing friends; Cat volunteers to set fire to its dumpster), Jae’s mysterious appearance there, bumping into Wesley afterward, having sex with Mika (Sands gives me a high-five: “Tiresa deserves it.”), meeting Harrison the wannabe cowboy at Fi’s party, Mika showing up at the hospital to help, and the online chat with RoMANce.
“Tiresa refused to go to the hospital,” I reiterate that part of the story. “He gets cancer; he breaks his neck; and what does she do? Nothing! She’s a cold-hearted pa’umutu.”
“I’d agree with you if I knew what that means,” Cat slurps her coffee.
Sands pats my hand. “You got back at her by sleeping with Mika, so forget about it. She’s got more bad karma coming at her and nothing can stop it.”
I shake my head. “We didn’t sleep together. It was the proverbial quickie and he got out of there as fast as he could when it was over.”
“At least you got some,” Cat slurps again.
“Cat!” the others exclaim.
“Believe me, I wish I hadn’t. But it’s in the past now.”
“Unless you’re pregnant,” Cat adds.
“Would you be quiet, woman?” Riyaan snaps.
“That’s rich, coming from you,” she retorts.
Riyaan brushes her off. “I agree with Sands: forget about it. I’m more interested in this Jae fellow. Do you think he saw you leave the store?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I hope not. It was really embarrassing.”
“But that’s not your fault. I think you need to track this Jae down and go on the adventure date,” Riyaan urges.
“I agree,” says Sands. “Like I said before, how many Jae with an “e” Elliot’s are there in adventure tourism?”
“I could,” I nods, “or I can stay busy on my new project.”
“Project?” Sands says.
I take a deep breath and exhale. “I decided that I’m going to lose this weight.”
“Yes!” Sands pumps the air with her fist.
“That’s my girl,” Riyaan sniffles.
“It’s about time,” Cat mutters.
“AND-,” I add, “I’m going to Tiresa and Mika’s engagement party and wedding to prove that I am not going to be kicked around.”
The trio cheers me. I haven’t felt this good in a long time.
“So what made you change your mind about going to the wedding and wanting to lose weight?” Sands asks while bouncing in her seat with excitement.
I take a deep breath and exhale. “It was a combination of a number of circumstances, but what it boils down to is that I got scared and mad enough to want to change. Face it: my size isn’t conducive for a long life, and after seeing Dad lying there in that hospital bed with such a grim prognosis, I knew I had to take control of my weight so I can be around to see Abe and Fi grow up. That, and knowing that losing this weight will help my self-esteem and prove to Tiresa and Mika that they can’t treat me like crap. I’m a worthy person and they’re going to see it.”
“That’s the spirit!” says Riyaan. “You go, girl.”
Sands rubs her hands together. “So, what’s your weight loss plan?”
“I was hoping you’d make one for me,” I replied.
“Of course I will!” She bends down and rummages through her gym bag, pulling out a notepad and pen.
Cat clears her throat. “So you think your sister and ex-husband are going to believe you’re worthy just because you’re a few pounds lighter?”
“What do you mean?” I ask. Cat rarely spoke more than a few words at a time, so her question caught all our attentions.
Cat slurps her coffee again, the only way she seems to know how to drink. “It seems to me - and what do I know, I’m just a homeless woman - you really have more in mind than just losing weight. What do you really want to prove? What do you wish to accomplish?”
I think for a moment. “Well, I want to lose weight and have a perfect body for once in my life. I want-,” I paused to dig deep down in my heart. What am I really after? What is my dream com
e true? “I want to be successful.”
“At what?” Cat prods.
“Uh, well, in a career, I guess. I want to be financially stable and have an active social life and not be a social pariah.”
Riyaan jumps in. “And you want a good man by your side. There’s nothing like a good man to make you walk tall.”
Sands glances at him out of the corner of your eye. “It sounds like Riyaan needs to meet your cowboy Harrison. But he’s right and Cat’s right, which I can’t believe I’m saying. We need to write down your goals. They won’t come true unless you write them down.”
“That’s not true,” Riyaan retorts.
“But it is a good idea,” I say. “Let’s do it. Thanks, Cat.”
Cat shrugs. “Glad to be of assistance. That’ll be $75.”
“Why $75?” I ask.
“That’s what I used to charge clients per hour,” she replies.
“What, were you a counsellor or something?” Riyaan asks.
“Something,” she sniffs.