Pinching the flesh around his belly button, James’ hand would then travel to his love handles. He’d grasp them between his hands, wiggling the flesh up and down. Finally, he’d suck in a deep breath and watch his stomach shrink by several inches.
Now, having gone through his usual routine, he murmured to the bathroom mirror, “Doesn’t feel any different. Let’s see what the numbers have to say.”
As was customary, James inhaled a giant breath and then forcefully exhaled. When he felt as though every ounce of air had been expelled from his lungs, he stepped on the scale. Shifting until his feet were perfectly centered on the glass surface, he held himself as still as possible and waited for the digital numbers to surface in their silver window. He never breathed until they’d revealed themselves. Now, as his weight appeared, his inhalation was sharp with frustration and disappointment.
“I haven’t lost a thing!” he shouted at the device. “Why bother giving up sugar when my weight stays exactly the same!”
In the shower, he angrily massaged shampoo into his hair and then scrubbed his skin roughly, using a washcloth, as though punishing his body for a less-than-desirable result during the daily weigh-in.
By the time James reached the library, his mood had improved slightly due to a large cup of creamy coffee and a nutritious breakfast of whole grain waffles and strawberries. When he saw Francis and Scott pedaling into the parking lot on their mountain bikes, racing to see who would reach the book drop first, he couldn’t stop his mouth from curving into a grin.
“Whoa!” Francis shouted. “You’re like a lightning bolt today, bro! You must really want to get busy training Fern over in the Tech Corner, huh?”
Scott’s cheeks burned red and he punched his twin in the arm. “Shut up, dude!” Next, he chained his bike to the rack and jogged up the stairs, saluting James when he reached the top. “We’re all set for Mrs. Waxman’s retirement party, Professor.”
“Milla and Willow told us they’d handle the food, so all we have to do is make the punch and decorate,” Francis chimed in as the three men entered the library. “Um, should one of the punch bowls be spiked, Professor?”
“Absolutely. And I’ve got an amazing gift idea lined up, assuming my father can paint as fast as you two can ride those bikes,” James said. “Ah, here comes Fern for her final day of training. She’s a quick study, isn’t she gentlemen?”
“Too quick. I wish I had more time with her,” Scott muttered and then beamed at Fern as she breezed through the security gate, the full skirt of her rose-colored sundress flowing behind her. Her eyes immediately sought Scott’s and she gave him a special smile before greeting James and Francis.
The four librarians prepared for their first patrons of the day. When the clock struck nine, people trickled into the building and the library hummed softly with activity all morning long. Just before lunch, James heard an inappropriately loud and combative voice from the direction of the circulation desk. He’d been busy helping old Mrs. Withers navigate the computer. Having decided to sell her collection of Beanie Babies, she wanted to look up current market values on eBay. James had directed her to the online auction site and then paled when she produced a notebook filled with pages of Beanie Baby inventory.
“You’d like to check the value of each of these?” He asked, dreading her reply. “How many do you have, ma’am?”
“Oh, a thousand or so,” Mrs. Withers replied merrily and patted the notebook. “I’m hopin’ to raise enough money to take my daughter on a little trip. She hasn’t been away since Roy Junior was born and that was five years ago. She won’t leave the boy, but if I buy the tickets, she’ll feel like she has to go.” She pursed her lips. “Parents hover too much nowadays. When I was a mother I had my own life. I played bridge and tennis and was president of the gardening club. My girl needs to cut the damned cord and I’m gonna help her do it!”
Using his concern over the raised voice at the circulation desk as a reason to avoid several hours of eBay tutelage, James excused himself and hustled off.
He was most surprised to see Murphy and Tia in a standoff against Scott. Of course, Tia was the only one not speaking in hushed tones. Standing with one hand on her left hip, she gesticulated wildly with the other, clearly ignoring Scott’s requests to lower her voice.
Murphy stood slightly apart from the younger woman, as though attempting to distance herself from the argument. Still, her face was alight with voyeuristic pleasure.
“Ladies!” James stepped beside Tia and forced his lips into a tight smile. In an exaggerated whisper he asked, “How can I help you?”
Tia turned her dark eyes on him and then she deliberately looked back at Murphy and hissed, “Forget about the library! Let’s go to the grocery store!” And with that, she walked out through the lobby doors.
Murphy gazed at James with a mixture of wonder and befuddlement. “Boy oh boy, you sure have a way with women, Mr. Henry. She nearly lost a few of her piercings in her haste to get away from you. Why is that?”
James shrugged. “I have no idea.” He glanced over at Scott, more interested in pacifying his distressed employee than satisfying Murphy’s endless curiosity. “What did the young woman want?”
Scott pushed a small poster across the desk. “To hang this under the Community Happenings section of our bulletin board. I told her nicely that it was too scary for our younger patrons, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer.” His cheeks flushed. “I’m afraid I stopped being a polite public servant. I repeated myself several times, but when she called me a fascist and an accessory to murder I got a little mad.” He raked his hands through his hair and sighed ruefully. “I should never have mentioned that I was having a meatball sub for lunch.”
James gave his employee a sympathetic pat on the shoulder and then leaned over to scrutinize the poster. It portrayed the image of a cartoonish pig lying on its back with its legs sticking in the air. It had x’s for eyes and a long tongue lolled from its mouth. Above the pig, a spider resembling Charlotte from the E. B. White novel had industriously written the following words in her web: Don’t Kill Wilbur. Become A Vegetarian.
“Old Charlotte must have been all done in after spinning such a lengthy slogan,” James remarked. “It’s clever, but you’re right, Scott. I think it would definitely upset the kids and quite a few adult patrons as well. You made the right call.”
Murphy, who had made no move to accompany Tia, crossed her arms and studied James. “And yet, your own son has recently become a vegetarian, has he not?”
“Yes, but …” James was about to say that Eliot hadn’t been shocked or emotionally traumatized into the decision, but he knew that wasn’t the absolute truth. After all, his son had been so influenced by Fay Sunray’s words that he’d had to flee the dinner table in the face of a slice of pepperoni pizza. “Is this your new way of conducting interviews?” he inquired airily. “I thought you preferred to gather material over one of Willie’s frozen custards and a cappuccino?”
“I do,” Murphy agreed. “But Tia is one sharp negotiator. She talked me into putting these posters all over town before she’d answer any of my more probing questions. I’ve been collecting background material on her as we work, but I’m her hired hand until the posters are all up.” She glanced in the direction of the lobby doors. “And she’s not going anywhere without me because we took my car.” Murphy reclaimed the poster and wiggled an index finger at James. “And you can bet your Dewey Decimal system that I’m going to find out why she looked at you as though you were the Charles Manson of Quincy’s Gap.”
James scowled. “Perhaps she’s read your novel too many times and is worried that hanging around me will spell certain death.”
“You do have a certain magnetism when it comes to corpses.” Murphy smiled and touched his cheek with an intimacy that made James uncomfortable. “I find that quality strangely sexy.”
_____
James didn’t feel like skipping to A Better State of Mind as he had for
his past two sessions. In fact, he’d been in a foul mood ever since Murphy’s visit to the library and he hadn’t been able to do anything to lift himself out of it. Pulling into a parking space next to a shiny new SUV, James paused to admire the moss-green paint, the tidy tan leather interior, and the vanity plate reading, VEG OUT.
“Hey man!” Lennon called out as he headed in James’ direction. “You like my ride? It’s a Ford Escape Hybrid. Gets thirty miles to the gallon and has super clean emissions. Totally earth-friendly.”
“It’s a beaut.” James glanced at the frayed ends of Lennon’s jeans, his washed-out Bob Marley T-shirt, and his worn sandals. Leaving all tact aside he said, “That must have cost a pretty penny.”
“Dude, like, a generous relative gave me some dough and I spent it,” Lennon smiled guilelessly. “I believe in living in the moment, ya know. I could totally get hit by a bus tomorrow, so why not party hard today?” He gestured at the rack affixed to the back of the SUV. “Do you bike, man? I could show you some of the awesome local trails I’ve discovered. My all-time fav is the Brandywine Lake Trail. Fifty-two miles of rock ‘n roll.” He flicked a frayed lock of hair away from his face. “Whenever I’m stressin’, that place chills me right out. And I’ve got two bikes! I can put on the dual rack in a snap!” He gestured at the back of his truck. “Wanna let loose?”
James laughed at the image of himself barreling down a wooded path. “Think I’ll stick to four wheels, but my coworkers, Scott and Francis, ride their bikes to work. You should drop by the library sometime so I can introduce you. You guys are about the same age and I bet they’d love to explore a new trail.” Checking his watch, James saw that he still had a few minutes until his appointment. James wanted to linger with the younger man a little longer, enjoying the influence of his winsome, buoyant presence. He pointed toward the pink and purple cottages. “How about Skye? Does she ride too?”
Lennon shook his head. “Nah, she’s more into running. It’s her time to center, ya know? Just her, an iPod, and a long stretch of road. That’s cool, but sometimes a guy’s gotta rip down a hill with the trees flying by like whish, whish!” He gesticulated with his well-calloused hands. “Anyhow, the work day is done, my man, so I am outta here. Gonna go suck in some fresh oxygen! Peace out!”
Feeling slightly silly, James returned the universal gesture for peace and walked through the Wellness Village to Harmony’s office. Skye accepted his payment and offered him a glass of citrus-flavored water and a friendly smile.
“Harmony is running a little late,” she apologized on behalf of her employer. “Would you like to browse through our newest magazines while you wait?”
James took a few from Skye’s graceful hands. “Thank you.” He placed the magazines on the sofa and watched Skye water a potted ficus tree in the corner of the reception room. “I ran into Lennon outside. He’s a very friendly young man. I can see why you two make such a good couple. You both exude such a positive …” He trailed off, unsure of the correct wording.
“Aura?” Skye finished for him. “That’s sweet of you to say. Lennon and I haven’t been dating long, but I admire how he puts his entire being into each and every task. The smallest details are important to him, from raking the rock garden to hosing out the trash cans to picking wildflowers for me.” She colored prettily. “I’ve never known someone so gentle and yet so dedicated.”
“Well, he’s a lucky man to have captured your heart,” James said as Harmony’s door opened and Lindy walked slowly down the hall, still drowsy from her time of deep relaxation.
James was delighted to see his friend. “I didn’t know you’d be here today!”
“I had to get help!” Lindy whispered loudly. “I never thought the three hours I spent with Luis’ mama would throw me into such a tailspin, but that woman is a Tasmanian devil—emphasis on ‘devil’!”
Stifling a grin, James led Lindy to the sofa. “That bad, huh?”
“She ran her finger along the baseboard underneath my kitchen table and glanced at the dust as though it might eat away her hand! She held up each piece of silverware to the light, looking for spots. And then she polished them on her own handkerchief. She ate three bites of the meal I’d slaved over all day and then declared she’d suddenly lost her appetite.” Lindy rubbed her tired eyes. “She never spoke directly to me. If she wanted to know something about my house, my family, or my job, she’d ask Luis as if I weren’t sitting right there! It was awful!”
James gave his friend a hug. “Did Harmony make you feel better?”
Lindy nodded. “I asked her to help me keep a firm hold on my self-confidence, but this is going to be a mighty long week.” She sighed lugubriously. “I’ll be listening to my new reinforcement CD in all my spare time.”
“Bring her along to Mrs. Waxman’s retirement party,” James suggested. “We’ll pour champagne punch down her throat and stuff her full of Milla’s cake.”
“Can’t I just drop her off at the local taxidermist instead? That would get her out of my hair forever,” Lindy joked and James was pleased to note that his friend’s sense of humor was intact. “Are you going in for another sugar-busting session?”
“I don’t know.” It was James’ turn to be downcast. “I haven’t lost any weight and I feel like I’m at war with myself. Basically, I’m ticked off.”
Harmony arrived at that moment and smiled at both of her clients. “Perhaps today’s session should be about striking a balance between your mind and body,” she advised gently. “Lindy, feel free to call me if you need to see me again this week. Just remember to listen to your CD and to believe in your value as a wonderful and unique individual.”
Lindy nodded and shut her eyes for a moment. After opening them again, she said good-bye to James and then reached for the front door, repeating Harmony’s phrase like a mantra. “I am a unique and wonderful individual. I am a unique and wonderful individual.”
Harmony didn’t interrupt Lindy but softly directed Skye to catch up to their client outside, as Lindy had departed without her reinforcement CD. Skye neatly labeled the CD before heading for the exit.
“Won’t she be too late to catch Lindy?” James asked as he followed Harmony into her office.
“Skye was a track star in college. She doesn’t run like the wind, she vanquishes the wind.” Harmony gestured at the recliner and James sank heavily into the chair. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“I haven’t lost a single ounce and I’m angry. At myself,” James answered. “Like Lindy, I’ve had a stressful few days and I feel like I’ll never make any progress in the weight loss department until, well, I can have some faith in myself. Right now, that’s running a little low.”
Harmony considered her client’s problem for a moment and then wrote a few notes on a legal pad. “Considering these developments, let’s change our direction slightly. Instead of focusing on sugar cravings, we’re going to ask your mind and body to work together as a single unit—for your entire self to be one team, striving for health and a sense of well being. How does that sound?”
“Can you throw in a dose of stress relief too?” James implored. “I feel like if I don’t dial down that part of my brain I’ll be hijacking Little Debbie trucks before long!”
The sound of Harmony’s musical laughter filled the room. When her expression of calm concern returned she asked, “In addition to your frustration over not having lost any weight, are there other factors causing you to feel anxiety?”
James issued an unattractive snort. “It’ll take more time than we’ve got to cover them all! Let’s just take care of my inner war today. We can tackle maniacal ex-girlfriends, psychotic letter-writers, and crazy vegetarian activists next week.” He cleared his throat. “No offense.”
“None taken,” Harmony replied and dimmed the lights.
In preparing for Mrs. Waxman’s surprise party, James and his coworkers encountered Tia’s pig poster everywhere. It hung from the bulletin board at Food Lion, the YMCA, and the p
ost office, and had been taped to the windows of dozens of small businesses including the ABC store, Goodbee’s Pharmacy, the Polar Pagoda, and not surprisingly, The Yuppie Puppy. It seemed as if Quincy’s Whimsies and The Sweet Tooth were the only establishments in town that had refused to display the attention-grabbing poster.
By the time Wednesday evening rolled around, the talk among the library staff revolved around the prone piggy and Murphy’s newspaper article on animal rights activist, Katrina “Tia” Royale.
“Bro, she didn’t act like someone whose parents were mega rich,” Scott commented to Francis. “When I think of tycoons’ daughters, I picture mafia princesses like Meadow Soprano or airhead socialites like Paris Hilton.”
His twin shrugged as he blew up an orange balloon. “Yeah, it’s kinda cool that Tia isn’t posing for the media or carrying around little dogs with diamond collars,” he said while tying the balloon’s stem into a knot. “Maybe, in order to be her own person, Tia decided to put all her time and money into protecting animals. From what I read in The Star, she could spend every day shopping and still not put a dent in her trust fund, yet she doesn’t act like a spoiled brat.”
Willow scowled and handed her boyfriend a yellow balloon. “Why don’t you save your breath for the balloons, Francis?”
“What? Did I say something wrong?” Francis reached out to touch Willow’s pale, blond hair, but she swatted his hand away.
“Some of us don’t have trust funds or uber-rich parents,” she pointed out heatedly. “Some of us work at regular jobs and serve our causes in our spare time without screaming at senior citizens or making little kids cry!”
Scott passed Fern a roll of tape and a crepe paper streamer so she could affix the decoration to the exit sign. Peering down at Willow from the top of the small ladder, Fern said, “I haven’t been your roommate for long, but I’m impressed by how many hours you volunteer at the animal shelter.”
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