The Lighter Side of Large

by Becky Siame

  Standing in front of the huge 65” plasma television, Amanda is fixing Jae’s bow tie, his chin up so he isn’t looking her in the face though he’s talking to her. “She doesn’t know,” he says.

  “If you don’t put a muzzle on her, I will,” Amanda retorts, pulling the tie into a tight bow.

  Jae sighs. “I’m taking care of it. Trust me.”

  Amanda finishes with his tie. “You should have taken care of it weeks ago…” She sees me out of the corner of her eye. “Bella,” she smiles, but her tone is icy. Jae’s shoulders stiffen and he looks decidedly guilty as he turns around to look at me.

  “Amanda,” I greet her. “You look great.” She’s wearing the purple AmandaE dress which I almost bought. I can feel my stomach curdle at the thought that I might be standing here wearing it if it wasn’t for Jae’s intervention.

  The guilty look is replaced with awe as Jae’s eyes drink me in. There’s no guessing his opinion on how I look. “Absolutely gorgeous”, he compliments me.

  Amanda looks me up and down. “Yes, you look…” She pauses, as if changing her mind about what she is about to say. “That dress suits you.”

  “Thanks,” I reply, surprised by her barely-veiled animosity. She promised not to make things hard for me back at the lodge, yet by the tone of their conversation a few moments ago, it sounds like she is doing just that.

  “Well,” she moves past me toward the door. “I’ll see you two downstairs.”

  I keep my eyes on Jae as the door closes behind her. Jae hangs his head apologetically. “You must think I’m the biggest jerk. I meant to tell you…”

  I cross my arms. “It would be nice occasionally to be with my boyfriend without his ex-wife tagging along.” My voice drips with sarcasm and resentment. I can’t help it. I am seriously pissed off. Why is she always turning up on our weekends away?

  Jae looks up, a guarded hint of surprise is on his face. “I’m sorry. I truly am. This dinner is a business event, which we go to every year, and, well, that’s no excuse. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I say, looking at my nails. At least I look good tonight and can compete with her.

  Jae moves toward me and gives me a hug. “It’s just for a couple of hours, and then,” he pulls back and strokes my cheek, “I’ll have you all to myself. May I say you are looking particularly delectable tonight? If I could press a fast-forward button, I’d follow through with my earlier threat and skip the main course.”

  “Mr Elliot!” I say in mock horror, my disappointment about Amanda being here quickly dissolving. “I don’t know if you should talk that way.””Why?“ Jae murmurs into my ear. I shiver with delight.

  “Because,” I playfully bite his ear, “I might just want to skip dinner, too.”

  When we step into the ballroom at the hotel, I wish we had skipped dinner. The place is teeming with people and they’re not my kind of people. These are obviously businessmen and socialites. Above, the crystal chandeliers illuminate the room. Beneath them, diamonds and other gems flash from rings, bracelets and necklaces. A band pumps out smooth jazz from the stage as couples mingle around the room, drinks in hand. The catering staff weaves in and out of the crowd, carrying trays of champagne and appetisers.

  We stand arm in arm in the doorway. “What do you think?” Jae asks.

  I shake my head. “I think I’m out of my element.”

  Jae pats my hand. “Nonsense. Look, there’s Simon. Let’s go say hi.”

  Moment of truth, I think. It’s Simon, the pretentious clothing designer who could hardly bear to shake my hand. What will he think about me now?

  Jae walks me over to Simon, who is complaining to two gorgeous older women who drip with diamonds and smell of too much perfume, about the inferior workplace conditions at his Sydney studio. “Natural light: that’s all I ask for. And then what happens? A new condo is built right next to my studio and interferes with the afternoon light. How am I supposed to design, I ask you? Under fluorescents? Even the “natural light” ones are inferior. Really, it’s too much. I can draw in the dark and get better results than when using fluorescents. Ah, Jae, dear, I’ve been looking for you,” he gushes as we approach. His eyes drift to me. “And who is this charming young lady?” He holds out his hand. “Simon Grant. A pleasure to meet you.”

  Jae nods to Simon and the ladies. “Hello, Simon. Good to see you. You remember Bella?”

  I shake Simon’s hand, which isn’t that much firmer than his previous limp-fish handshake, as he tilts his head at me. He has no clue who I am. “Should I? I’m sure I would remember meeting such a dazzling creature. Your dress is from the AmandaE fall collection, is it not?”

  My fears about this evening and if people will accept or reject me disappear as I observe Simon. Of course he wouldn’t remember a frumpy fat chick. Why should he? But even though I’m thinner, he focuses on my looks and what I wear. He’s nothing but a stuck-up snob who has lost touch with real people. I drop Simon’s hand, as if his touch is revolting. “We met at the ribbon cutting ceremony at Go 4 It a few months ago,” I say with the biggest smile. “You wore a bright orange suit which reminded me of a traffic cone. Is that what’s in style for men these days?” I laugh. “Really, being a slave to fashion must be embarrassing sometimes. There’s something to be said for classic attire.”

  As I speak, Simon’s eyes widen in recognition, then horror, and then darken at my insult. I flash my smile at Jae, who struggles to keep from laughing.

  One of the women nods. “That is true. A classic suit makes any man a gentleman.”

  I lay my hand on Jae’s arm. “Weren’t you going to introduce me to someone very important? Ladies, if you’ll excuse us? Simon, we’ll catch up later.” I pull Jae away from the trio.

  Jae bends down. “You fiery siren. I think you fit in better than you know,” he says in my ear.

  “That was just a spark,” I wink.

  We go around the room, chatting with Jae’s business associates, friends, and even a couple of politicians. Each person compliments me. Who did your hair? Who designed your gown? How did Jae end up with someone as lovely as you? Where has he been hiding you? The devil in me feels like answering, “Behind 55kgs of pure fat,” but these are Jae’s friends and associates, so I determine to enjoy the night and forego the set-downs.

  After I feel like we’ve talked our jaws off and my smile is so stiff that it is starting to hurt, Jae asks, “Are you ready to sit down?”

  “Yes, please. My new shoes are beginning to make themselves feel known,” I joke. We turn around - and come face to face with Mika and Tiresa.

  Mika wears a tuxedo - sharp as usual, except for the dumbfounded expression. Tiresa shimmers beside him in a light green and gold strapless sheath, which looks like glittery snakeskin. I can’t help rejoicing that I look glamorous, while she strays a bit on the gauche side. “Bella, Jae,” Mika nods, breaking the awkward silence.

  “Hello,” Jae says in a flat tone.

  “Fancy meeting you here,” I pipe up.

  Mika looks me over from head to toe, not bothering to disguise the lust in his eyes. I glance at Jae, who is seething. I press myself against him in hopes of calming him and letting him know who I stand with. All four of us are caught in a bubble of tension and knowing and anticipation. Tiresa pops it.

  “How’s business been, Jae?” she asks with a smirk. “The media coverage must be giving your PR department a lot of sleepless nights.”

  “Not at all,” Jae replies, grim.

  “Really?” she tosses her hair over her shoulder. “I would have thought otherwise.”

  I glance at Jae, wondering what Tiresa is referring to, but Jae’s eyes are fixated on Tiresa. Boring into her with daggers, I should say. “So, who’s watching the kids?” I address Mika.

  “Our regular babysitter,” he replies. “Got them set up with a movie and pizza. They’ll be happy.”

  Tiresa keeps up the chatter with Jae, but I hardly hear a word. I glare at M
ika, whose eyes are drinking me in. Now he notices me, I fume. Now he’s undressing me. Damn Mika and damn Amanda. Leave it to our exes to try to ruin our night.

  “Is Amanda here?” Tiresa asks Jae. “I’m sure her view on matters differs from yours.”

  I wrench my attention away from Mika to Jae, who turns pale. How does Tiresa know Amanda? I wonder.

  “Did someone say my name?” a voice sings over our shoulders and suddenly Amanda is standing in our little group. “Oh, there you two are,” she says, pushing us apart and slipping her arms in ours. “I’ve been looking for you. Our table is just over here. Will you excuse us?” she says to Tiresa and Mika without looking at them and whirls us away. She guides us to a table, where Pierce is already seated and talking with another couple. Jae holds out a chair for me and as I sit down, I catch Jae mouthing, “Thank you” to Amanda, his eyes full of gratitude.

  “What was that about?” I whisper to him as the emcee for the evening addresses the ballroom from the stage.

  “I’ll tell you later,” he whispers back, placing his hand on my leg under the table. “Let’s enjoy ourselves for a while. Then we can really enjoy ourselves.” He gives me the lightest kiss on the lips before turning his attention to the speaker.

  Throughout the night, I can feel two pairs of eyes on my back: one throws daggers at it, the other heats it up.

  •

  When we reach the magnificent rosewood and brass doors of our suite a couple of hours later, Jae gives me another kiss. “Are you tired after your long day?” He fumbles with the card key to open the door.

  “No,” I say, slipping my arms around his neck as he opens the door and I catch a strong whiff of floral fragrance.

  “What is that scent?” I ask.

  The mischievous smile reappears on Jae’s lips. “Let’s find out.” He holds open the door and I step in - and gasp.

  The scent emanates from a huge bouquet of two dozen red roses on the desk. Around it and on the nightstand, white candles of all different shapes and sizes flicker. A card is stuck in the flowers. I peer at it in the dim light. It has four words: I love you – Jae.

  Jae comes from behind and puts his arms around me. “Do you like it?”

  “Do I like it?” I repeat turning to face him. “I love it.” And we kiss again, this time not holding back, our hands searching over one another. But I finally pull away. There are some practical matters to take care of first.

  “Mind if I step into the bathroom for a moment?” I ask.

  “Take all the time you need,” Jae says.

  I hurry to the bathroom to use the loo, brush my teeth, and take down my hair. It’s then I realise I don’t have the lingerie with me. I step out with the intention of retrieving it so I can put it on and make a proper first intimate impression. But Jae, who already has his jacket, tie and shirt off, looks at me longingly.

  “You look even prettier with your hair down,” he says, coming over to me and embracing me with another passionate kiss. This time the flames between us burn even hotter and we both move toward the bed. Jae lays me down, his hands fumbling at my gown’s back zipper. My hands reach down to unbutton his pants. But when he unzips my gown and pushes the one-sided sleeve off my shoulder, I pause.

  “I have some lingerie, courtesy of AmandaE,” I tease. “Want me to put it on?” I sit up. As great as I know I look in this gown, I know I don’t look half so good naked.

  Jae shakes his head. “No. I want to see just you.”

  “Well,” I still hesitate, “should we blow out the candles before we set the hotel on fire?” If I can’t wear something, lights out is the next best thing.

  Jae shakes his head. “I wish you could see what I see, because you are a beautiful woman with a beautiful body, and I want to see every inch of it. I don’t want you to hide it.”

  “But I’m used to hiding my flab,” I joke, still uncomfortable. “There is a lot of me which isn’t suitable for viewing.”

  “Bella,” Jae leans forward and kisses me. “Have you seen my backside? It’s so white, the space shuttle can see it from orbit. NASA phoned me once asking if I could be a runway light when their funding ran low.” I laugh one of my boisterous laughs. The visual of Jae mooning the space shuttle is too funny. “I can think of a lot of places on me which aren’t suitable for viewing, but you,” he kisses me again, his tongue running gently over mine, “I can’t think of anything I don’t want to see. But if lingerie makes you feel more comfortable, then wear it. This night is about you.”

  And that’s exactly why I am here. As much as Jae longs to see me naked, he leaves the decision up to me. He respects me. And that’s more than I ever received from Mika or any other man.

  I stand up and slip the gown off my shoulder, letting it fall to the floor in a heap of chiffon sunshine. Then I unhook my strapless bra as Jae watches. When I reach for my panties, he stands up and pushes my hands aside and pulls them off. Kneeling before me, he places the lightest of kisses on my thighs and belly, making a circle around my pubic bone. I run my fingers through his hair, tousling it as he continues the kisses, running his hands up the back of my legs and squeezing my buttocks.

  Ever so gently, he pushes me onto the bed. The waves rock me back and forth as I lay back and he spreads my legs. I’m already dizzy with pleasure and wet, but he worships me with his mouth until I become a writhing mess of sweet juices. I gasp and moan, losing myself in the sensations Jae is creating. The intensity increases exponentially and suddenly I am losing control, crying out and gripping his hair as I come, strong and hard with his mouth on me. Jolts of electricity or spasms of delight - I don’t know which, but they shake my body. For the first time in my sexual life, I don’t care what I look like naked or that flab is jiggling from my thighs and arms and belly. I lose myself to him completely.

  And then Jae rises up and quickly steps out of his trousers and boxers. He opens the nightstand draw and pulls out a box of condoms, taking one out of the package and slipping one on. A naked Adonis, he takes my breasts in his mouth and starts the process all over again. We roll over the bed, our bodies entwining, and when I am on top, I reach down and take him in my hand and guide him inside me. He groans with pleasure as I thrust him hard over and over. Being on top is a novelty: before, I was so heavy, my legs would give out after a minute and I was barely able to move. But now I move back and forth easily and climax again.

  I collapse on Jae and he slides his hands up and down my back. “Bella, I love you,” he breathes into my ear. I draw back and take one of his nipples in my mouth, at first tracing it with my tongue and then sucking hard, thrusting my pelvis back and forth. He grabs my hips. “Stop, stop. I don’t want to come yet,” he gasps.

  But when we finally do come together, I think I am going to die from the pleasure. Jae shudders from the power of it as I lay next to him, panting. He rolls over and gathers me in his arms. He’s as sweaty as me as we stick together. “I love you,” I finally reply. And I do.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “Loving yourself is an everyday choice.”

  FROM BELLA’S BLOG

  http://www.thelightersideoflarge.com/ch24

  With a bounce in my step and without a bounce from my belly or butt, I leave the radio station after an interview - the third one this week - about my blog, newspaper column and first feature article in Fab You. I hum a happy tune as I get in my car and drive to my late morning appointment with the plastic surgeon.

  I can’t believe I am me, a rising star, a liked person whose wit and honesty in words and cartoons is capturing the attention of a nation - and all about my humorous misery as a fat woman.

  And now I’m about to get rid of a little more of that misery. The weekend at the Rutherford with Jae was a dream come true - even, I recalled with a chuckle, with the waterbed tsunami I created on Saturday night when, in a moment of playful zeal, I pounced on the bed and nearly sent Jaw flying off it.

  Jae doesn’t mind my flab, and for that I love him all t
he more. But I’m the one who looks in the mirror and sees the protruding belly; not only the mirror, but now the television. Re-watching the interview with Channel 11 the other day reminded me that I still have ten kilograms to go to reach my weight loss goal. They say the camera adds five kilos to your weight, but I don’t believe it. I believe the camera tells the truth and everyone is in denial. And with less time to hit the gym, what with writing and drawing and interviewing, I know there’s only one way to deal with belly fat. Thanks to the advance on my book deal, I don’t have to ask Mika for the money for a tummy tuck and liposuction and skin tightening on my arms.

  The plastic surgeon’s office is in the same office building as Dr Wilson’s. After waiting over an hour past my appointment time, I am finally admitted to an exam room and change into one of those abominable dressing gowns with the open front, hoping I don’t have to wait much longer. My hopes are fulfilled when Dr Carver bursts through the door. “Good morning. I’m Dr Carver,” he says without apology for the delay in my appointment.

  “I guess you didn’t have a choice about what field you would specialise in,” I reply with a chuckle.

  Dr Carver leans against the counter in the corner, looking at my medical forms. “Yes, well, we can’t all be brain surgeons, can we?” he replies with a note of sarcasm. “So you want a tummy tuck and skin removal on the upper arms?” he asks, looking up from the file at me.

  “Yes, just a nip and a tuck.”

  He doesn’t get the jest. “Is this because of financial reasons? We have payment plan.”

  I fold my hands in my lap nervously. “I don’t understand.”

  Dr Carver crosses his arms. “You’re going to need more than a ‘nip and a tuck’ to achieve the results you’re looking for.” He pulls a pen out of his shirt pocket. “May I?”

  “Um, sure,” I relent. Dr Carver goes to work drawing on my face and neck. “Unless you want to look like your grandmother in ten years, you’re going to need this excess skin removed under the jaw. And the skin under your eye and on your brow has got to go.” He moves to my arms and sketches on the flab. “So, you were how many pounds overweight? If you’re going to cut the skin off here, you’ll need to on your inner thighs, otherwise you’ll look unbalanced. Stand, please.”