Big Girl

by Danielle Steel

  She had dinner with John and Harlan that night, and she told them about her father’s reaction, and said that it was nothing new, and typical of him.

  “You should go to a shrink and talk about it,” John said quietly, and Victoria looked shocked. She didn’t have any mental problems, didn’t suffer from depression, and she had always managed her problems on her own.

  “I don’t think I need to do that,” she said, looking horrified and a little hurt. “I do just fine.”

  “Of course you do,” John said easily, and he believed her. “But people like that are very toxic in our lives, especially our parents. If they’ve been saying things like that to you all your life, you owe it to yourself to get rid of the messages they’ve left in your brain and your heart. That can really hold you back and hurt you in the long run.” She had told Harlan about being named after Queen Victoria, and why, and he agreed with John. “You might find it very helpful.” And they were also both convinced that her weight problem was due to the constant put-downs of her father. It seemed obvious to them. And her mother sounded no better, from what Victoria said about her. Harlan hated the stories she told about her parents and her childhood, and the emotional abuse she had endured for years. They hadn’t abused her with fists, but with words.

  “I’ll think about it,” she said softly, and put it out of her head as soon as she could. The thought of going to a therapist was really upsetting to her. And it didn’t surprise either of them that without thinking, she helped herself to a bowl of ice cream after dinner, although neither of them was eating dessert. Neither of them insisted about the shrink, and Harlan didn’t bring it up again.

  And before the summer, Victoria lined up a summer job for June and July so she didn’t have to go home. She took a job for very little pay tutoring underprivileged kids at a shelter where they lived while waiting to go into foster care. It sounded depressing to Harlan when she told him, but she was excited about it. She was starting there the day after Madison closed for the summer.

  Gracie had a summer job that year too. It was her first one, at sixteen, and she’d be working at the desk of the swim and tennis club they belonged to. She was thrilled about it, and their parents sounded pleased. They thought Victoria’s job sounded unpleasant, and her mother told her to wash her hands a lot or she might catch a disease from the kids she tutored. She thanked her for the advice and was annoyed that the job she was doing didn’t impress them, nor did her work as a teacher, but Gracie working at the desk in a tennis club was cause for celebration and endless praise. It didn’t make her angry at Gracie, only at them.

  Before she started work, Gracie was coming to visit Victoria in New York.

  This time Gracie came alone without their parents, and they had even more fun than they had had in March. She kept herself busy in the daytime, going to galleries and museums and going shopping, and Victoria took her out to movies and restaurants at night. They even went to a Broadway play.

  And as usual Victoria was planning to go home in August. It was the longest time she spent with them now every year. But this time she only intended to stay for two weeks, which was more than long enough for her. And once there, as usual, her father criticized her frequently about her job, and her mother nagged her constantly about her weight, which had gone up again after a brief dip in the spring. Before she left New York, Victoria had gone on a cabbage diet, which helped her lose weight. The diet was miserable, but it worked, and then a short time afterward she gained all the weight back again. It was a battle she just couldn’t seem to win. It was discouraging.

  When she got back to New York, she was disheartened by the things her parents had said, and the weight she had put back on, and she thought about Harlan’s suggestion that she see a shrink. And in a dark mood one day right before school started, she called a name he had given her. It was a woman he had met, and he said that a friend of his had gone to her and liked her a lot. Before Victoria could change her mind, she called her and made an appointment for the following week. And she agonized about it as soon as she did. It seemed like a crazy thing to do, and she thought about canceling, but didn’t have the courage to do that either. She felt stuck. And she ate half a cheesecake alone in the kitchen the night before she went. What if the woman discovered that she was crazy, or that her parents were right about her and she was a total failure as a human being? What kept her from canceling the appointment was the hope that they were wrong.

  When Victoria went to the appointment with the psychiatrist, she was literally shaking, and had felt sick to her stomach all day. She couldn’t remember why she had made the appointment and wished she hadn’t, and her mouth was so dry when she sat down that she felt like her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth.

  Dr. Watson looked sensible and pleasant. She was in her early forties, and she was wearing a well-cut navy blue suit. She had a good haircut, wore makeup, and looked more stylish than Victoria had expected, and she had a warm smile that started in her eyes. She asked Victoria a few details about where she had grown up, where she had gone to school, and college, how many siblings she had, and if her parents were still married or divorced. They were all easy questions to answer, especially the one about Gracie. Victoria lit up like a light-bulb when she answered the question about having a sibling, and then described her and how beautiful she was. She told the doctor then about how different she herself looked from all of them and had thought she was adopted as a child, and her sister had thought so too.

  “What made you think something like that?” the doctor asked casually, sitting across from Victoria as they sat in comfortable chairs. There was no couch in her office, only a box of Kleenex, which seemed ominous to Victoria and made her wonder if people cried often when they were there.

  “I was always so different from them,” Victoria explained. “I don’t look like them in any way. They all have dark hair. I’m fair. My parents and sister have dark brown eyes. Mine are blue. I am a big person. All three of them are thin. Not only do I put on weight easily, I overeat when I’m upset. I’ve always had a problem with … with my weight. Even our noses aren’t the same, but I look like my great-grandmother.” And then she blurted out something she didn’t expect to say. “I’ve felt like an outsider with them all my life. My father named me after Queen Victoria because he said I looked like her. I always thought she was beautiful because she was a queen. And then I saw a photograph of her when I was six, and realized what my father meant. He meant I was fat and ugly just like her.”

  “What did you do then, once you knew that?” the doctor asked quietly with a sympathetic expression.

  “I cried. It almost broke my heart. I always believed he thought I was beautiful until then. And from then on I knew the truth. He used to laugh about it, and when my sister was born when I was seven, he said I had been their tester cake, to check the recipe, throw the tester cake away, and they got it right the second time. Gracie was always the perfect child, and she looks just like them. I didn’t. I was the tester cake they wanted to throw away. She was the prize.”

  “How did that make you feel?” The cool quiet gaze stayed focused on Victoria’s face. Victoria didn’t even know that there were tears rolling down her cheeks.

  “It felt terrible, about me, but I loved my baby sister so much I didn’t care. But I’ve always known what they thought of me. I’m never good enough, no matter what I do. And maybe they’re right. I mean, look at me, I’m fat. And every time I lose weight, I gain it right back again. My mother gets upset every time she looks at me and tells me I should be on a diet or going to the gym. My father hands me the mashed potatoes and then makes fun of me when I eat them.” What she was saying would have horrified anyone, but nothing showed on the psychiatrist’s face. She just listened sympathetically with an occasional murmuring sound.

  “Why do you think they say those things to you? Do you think it’s about them or about you? Doesn’t it say more about them as people? Would you say things like that to your ch
ild?”

  “Never. Maybe they just wanted me to be better than I am. The only thing they think is beautiful about me are my legs. My father says I have killer legs.”

  “What about inside? What about the kind of person you are? You sound like a good person to me.”

  “I think I am … I hope I am … I try very hard to do the right things. Except about eating. But I mean to other people. I’ve always taken good care of my sister.” Victoria sounded sad as she said it.

  “I believe that, and that you do the right things,” Dr. Watson said, looking warm for the first time. “How about your parents? Do you think they do the right things, for you for instance?”

  “Not really … sometimes … they paid for my education. And we’ve never been deprived. My father just says things that hurt me. He hates how I look, and he thinks my job isn’t good enough.”

  “And what does your mother do then?”

  “She’s always on his side. I think he was always more important to her than my sister and I were. He’s everything in my mother’s life. And my sister was an accident. I didn’t know what that meant till I was about fifteen. I heard them say it before she was born, and I thought she was going to arrive all banged up. And of course she didn’t. She was the most gorgeous baby I’ve ever seen. She’s been in commercials and ad campaigns a few times.”

  The portrait of her family that Victoria painted was totally clear, not only to the psychiatrist, but to herself as she listened to what she said. It was the portrait of a textbook narcissist and his enabling wife, who had been unthinkably cruel to their oldest child, rejecting and ridiculing her all her life, for not being an appropriate accessory to them. And her younger sister had fit the bill for them perfectly. The only surprise was that Victoria had never hated her little sister, but loved her as much as she did. It was proof of her loving nature and generous heart. She took pleasure in how beautiful Grace was. And she had accepted the horrible things her parents had said about her as gospel. She had been shackled by their cruelty all her life. Victoria was embarrassed by some of the things she had said, but they were all true, and had the ring of truth to the psychiatrist as well. She didn’t doubt them for a minute.

  And then she glanced at a clock just beyond Victoria’s shoulder and asked her if she would like to come back the following week. And before she could stop herself, Victoria nodded and then said that she would have to come in the afternoon after school since she was a teacher, which the psychiatrist said was fine. She gave her an appointment and handed her a card with the time written on it, and smiled.

  “I think we did some good work today, Victoria. I hope you think so too.”

  “We did?” She looked surprised. She had been entirely open and honest with her. And she felt suddenly disloyal to her parents for the things she had said. But she hadn’t lied. They had said all those things to her over the years. Maybe they hadn’t meant them to be as cruel as they sounded. And what if they did? What did that mean, about her and about them? It was a mystery to her now, which would have to wait another week to be solved, until she met with the shrink again. But she didn’t feel crazy when she left, as she had feared. She felt saner than she ever had, and painfully lucid about her parents.

  Dr. Watson escorted her out, and when Victoria stepped out into the sunlight, she felt dazed for a minute and blinded by the light. The doctor closed the door softly behind her, and Victoria slowly walked away. She had a feeling that she had opened a door that afternoon and let the light into the dark corners of her heart. And whatever happened now, she knew she couldn’t close that door again. And thinking about it, she cried with relief as she walked all the way home.

  Chapter 13

  For Victoria’s second year at the Madison School, she got a very respectable raise. It wasn’t an amount that impressed her father, but it gave her a little more leeway in how she lived. And now she only taught seniors, which was her favorite group anyway. Juniors were much more intense and stressed out, and sophomores were immature and harder to direct. They were still babies in many ways, testing their limits and often rude. Seniors were in the home stretch, and had begun to acquire a certain poise and sense of humor about life. And they were enjoying their last year at home as kids. It made them much more fun to be with. Nostalgia began to set in during their last months in high school. Victoria enjoyed being part of it and sharing their final year with them. They were almost cooked.

  Carla Bernini came back to school after her year-long maternity leave and was impressed by all that Victoria had accomplished with her students, and had a deep respect for her, however young. And they became good friends. She brought her baby to school once in a while to visit, and Victoria thought he was really cute. He was a bouncing happy baby, who reminded her of Grace at the same age.

  And she was continuing to see Dr. Watson at her office once a week. She thought it was making subtle changes in how she looked at life, saw herself, and viewed her lifelong experiences with her parents. They had been toxic and hurtful to her all her life. She was beginning to face that now. And she had taken some positive steps since she had started therapy. She was dieting again and had joined a gym. Sometimes the sessions of remembering the things her parents had done and said left her so raw that all she could do was come home and drown herself in comfort foods. Ice cream was always her drug of choice, and sometimes her best friend. But the next day she would eat very little and spend extra time at the gym to atone for her sins. Dr. Watson had recommended a nutritionist who’d given Victoria good advice about planning her meals. Victoria had also tried a hypnotist, which she hadn’t liked and which had no effect.

  Most of all she enjoyed her job and the kids she taught. She was learning a lot, about teaching, and about life. And she had more confidence in herself since starting to see the shrink, even if she hadn’t conquered her eating issues yet. She hoped she would one day, even if she knew she would never look like Gracie or her mother. Since working with the shrink, she was happier with herself.

  She was in a good place when school started, and a new chemistry teacher came on board to replace one who had retired. He seemed like a good guy, and had pleasant looks. He wasn’t movie star handsome, but he had a gentle, kind manner, and was friendly to teachers and kids. Everybody liked him, and he had made a real effort to get to know them all. He sat down next to Victoria in the teachers’ lounge one day. She was eating a salad from a nearby deli, and trying to correct the last of some papers she wanted to return to the students that day. She still had some spare time before her next class, when he unwrapped a sub sandwich at the table, sitting next to her. She couldn’t help noticing that it smelled delicious, and she felt like a rabbit eating her salad. She had sprinkled the lettuce leaves with lemon, instead of the generous portion of ranch dressing she would have preferred. She was trying to be good, and had an appointment with her shrink the next day.

  “Hi, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Jack Bailey,” he introduced himself between bites of the sandwich. He had salt and pepper hair, although he was in his early thirties, and a beard, all of which gave him a mature appearance to the kids. He was easy to take seriously, and Victoria smiled at him and introduced herself as she munched her lettuce.

  “I know who you are,” he said, smiling at her. “Every senior in this school loves you. You’re a tough act to follow when they come to me after your class. They have so much more fun with you. I don’t know how you come up with some of your ideas. You’re a star here.” It was a nice thing to say, and she was pleased.

  “They’re not always so crazy about me,” she assured him. “Especially when I give them surprise quizzes.”

  “I could never decide if I wanted to be a physicist or a poet when I was growing up. I think you made the better choice.”

  “I’m not a poet either,” she said simply, “just a teacher. How are you enjoying the school?”

  “I love it. I taught in a small rural school in Oklahoma last year. The kids are a lot more sophistica
ted here.” And she knew he was too. She had heard that he had graduated from MIT. “I’m having a lot of fun discovering New York. I’m originally from Texas. I lived in Boston for a couple of years after I graduated, then migrated to Oklahoma. I love being in this city,” he said warmly, as he finished his sandwich.

  “Me too. I’m from L.A. I’ve been here for a year. There’s still a lot I want to do and see.”

  “Maybe we should do that together,” he said with a hopeful look, and for a moment she felt a flutter. She wasn’t sure if he was serious about the suggestion, or just being friendly. She would have loved to go out with someone like him. She’d had a few dates in the past few months, including someone she’d gone to high school with in L.A., and all of them were duds. Her dating life was still almost nonexistent, and Jack was the only really eligible man at school. All of the single female teachers had been talking about him since he arrived, and referred to him as a “hunk.” Victoria was well aware of that as they were speaking.

  “That would be fun,” she said casually in case he hadn’t really meant it.

  “Do you like theater?” he asked as they both stood up. He was considerably taller than she was, well over six feet.

  “Very much. I can’t really afford it,” she said honestly, “but I go once in a while, just to treat myself.”

  “There’s an off-off-Broadway play I’ve been meaning to see. It’s a little dark, but I hear it’s great. I’ve met the playwright. Maybe we could go this weekend, if you’re free.” She didn’t want to tell him that she was free for the rest of her life, particularly for him. She was flattered by his interest.

  “That sounds great,” she said, smiling warmly, sure that he wouldn’t follow up on the invitation. She was used to men being friendly to her, and never calling her after that. And she had very few opportunities to meet single men. She lived and worked among women, kids, and gay and married men. An eligible bachelor was a rarity in her world. Her shrink had been encouraging her to get out and meet more people, not just men. Her world was limited to and defined by school.