Dieting Makes Cathy Crazy

by Sally Redwood

  “What?”

  “You’re the most adventurous woman I’ve ever met.”

  I laugh. If only he knew me before!

  He leans in for a kiss and wraps his arms around me. I close my eyes and moan. He cuffs my ass and lifts me higher. I feel the tip of his cock against the base of my pussy. He slowly slides it in.

  I scream and grab the back of his neck. I move my hips, as he slides in and out. I look into his eyes. I can’t believe how incredible this feels. He uses one hand to stroke my clit.

  “Mmmm! Angelo!”

  “You feel so fucking good. Damn!”

  “Oh my God! Angelo!”

  He speeds up, and I match his motion. The water all around us just intensifies the sensation. I know I’m close. He kisses me like I’m the only thing that matters in the world.

  “I’m about to …”

  “Fuck, Cathy! You’re gonna make me …”

  “Cum!”

  “Fuck!”

  We climax at the same time. This is a first. Even in the lake, I can feel my pussy get wetter with his cum and my cum mixed together. It’s so hot. It shouldn’t be legal for sex to feel this damn good. I’m addicted to this man!

  Chapter Twelve

  I walk into the salon. The place is bustling as usual. My stylist, Todd, waves at me. He stands about 5’6. I envy his perfect blonde highlights, washboard abs, and most of his fashion sense.

  He’s just wearing jeans and a t-shirt, but he looks like he’s just stepped off a Hollywood film set. Even when he’s casual, he’s always put together. Not me. I know I look sloppy as hell in my sweats and my oversized t-shirt.

  But I haven’t been thinking much about clothes the past few days, since Angelo keeps on taking them off. I smile at the memory of all the fun we’ve had. And the best part is that he hasn’t ghosted me. At least not yet. It’ll probably happen soon, and I don’t know how I’ll cope.

  It might be just as devastating as my diagnosis. That’s how much I really like Angelo. And it’s crazy because he’s the exact opposite of all the other men I’ve dated. No college degree. No closet full of suits. No tennis. No racquetball. No stamp collection. We don’t talk about serious stuff, it’s just…fun. I suspect he may be in the mob because his townhouse is way too fancy for a contractor, but I don’t care. So what if a truck full of cigarettes winds up in the wrong town with different stamps…big deal!

  It turns out that Angelo shoots pool. Imagine that! Plus there’s the motorcycles. And I counted five tattoos on him. Just being in his presence is a wild departure from everything I’ve known.

  But whenever I’m around him, I hardly think about having Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease. I don’t even find myself worrying about what my body looks like in certain sexual positions. I just let go and live in the moment.

  Hell, it took long enough. I’ll be 35 years old in a few weeks … if I last that long. I haven’t told Angelo yet. I don’t want him to think that he’s obligated to do anything for my birthday. It’s not like he’s my boyfriend or anything. We’re just friends with benefits.

  Todd is blow drying a woman’s hair. He turns to me and waves.

  “I’ll get you started in just a minute, hon. Where’s Zoe?”

  “You know Zoe. She’s got her own timetable.”

  “She’d better get her butt in here. I’m booked back-to-back all day.”

  I sit down in the waiting area and pull out my phone. Just then, Zoe breezes in. She’s wearing yoga pants and a tight t-shirt. The outfit shows off her flawless body.

  She waves at me and Todd. “Hey!”

  He shakes his head.

  “Sometimes I wonder if you’re gonna be late to your own funeral, hon. Have a seat. I’ll be right with you two in a bit.”

  Zoe wraps her arms around me and sits down. She takes a deep breath.

  “It’s getting to the point where I think we should just skip all the drama with men and just marry each other.”

  I laugh. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I went out last night on a date with that guy, Eddie. Remember, I told you about him?”

  “What’s his deal?”

  “Everything started off fine. He picked me up. I get in his car. A little small talk on our way to the restaurant. Then I hear this noise.”

  “What kinda noise?”

  “I didn’t know at first, but there was a yellow light on his dashboard. He was almost out gas. So he’s like, Oh shit, I need to stop at the station.”

  “Okay …”

  “Then, he had the nerve to ask me to borrow twenty bucks for gas. Can you believe that shit?”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “I wish.”

  “Did you give it to him?”

  “I didn’t have much of a choice. The cheap bastard was practically holding me hostage.”

  “That sucks. Where did you meet him again?” Why is it that when people ask questions like that, their voices go up an octave?

  “He was walking his dog at the park. The most adorable pug I’ve ever laid eyes on. We struck up a conversation. Eddie was cute. He formed coherent sentences. I thought it might lead to something.”

  “Did you end up going to the restaurant?”

  “Hell no!”

  “How did you get out of it?”

  “I told him that I had really bad cramps, and I needed to go home immediately.”

  “That was quick thinking.”

  “I’ll say. But when he pulled up to my place, he had the nerve to lean in for a kiss. Really? Are you fucking serious? I was this close to slapping the shit out of him. But I had to just breathe and remind myself … namaste. I refused to let him fuck with my energy like that.”

  I laugh.

  “So, what’s up with you? Are you still hanging out with that hottie from the bar?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You really like him. I can tell.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Because you’re literally blushing.”

  “I am not.”

  She smiles.

  “Okay. I admit that I’m really into him. And it’s totally crazy because I thought it was going to be a one night stand sort of deal.”

  “You never know, Cathy. He could be the one.”

  “I doubt that. We have next to nothing in common, except one thing.”

  “Do tell.”

  I giggle and shake my head.

  “Look at you. You’re like a fricking schoolgirl.”

  I lower my voice.

  “Well, I can’t help it. He’s the best I’ve ever had.”

  “Good for you. But seeing as how you’ve only been with three guys, that’s not saying a whole lot.”

  “Come on, I’ve slept with way more than three guys.”

  She stares at me.

  “Alright, so I haven’t exactly been around the block, but I don’t think it would make a difference. Angelo is really something.”

  “Sounds like it. Where do you see this whole thing going?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What do you want to happen?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Really, Cathy?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Don’t overthink this shit. Just enjoy his company and his hot sex for as long as you can, or until he asks you to chip in on the gas.”

  “Did I mention he rides a motorcycle?”

  “I thought you hated those things.”

  “I do, but it’s growing on me.”

  “Vroom! Vroom!”

  Todd waves over at us.

  “Come on, ladies!”

  We follow him to the shampoo bowls. We sit down as he wraps plastic capes around us. He smacks his lips on strawberry-flavored gum and looks down at me.

  “What’s it gonna be today, Cathy? No, don’t tell me. The usual.”

  “Actually, I was thinking of mixing it up a bit.”

  His eyes get wide.

  “Oh, really? I�
�ve been waiting for this moment.” He claps his hands together like a seal. “I think your features would really pop with a bob haircut.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay? Are you serious?”

  “Yes, just don’t give me a ‘may I see the manager’ cut, and while you’re at it … how about a new color?”

  “No fucking way! You’re finally ready to put this mousy-brown color to rest? What do you have in mind?”

  “Honey blonde.”

  “You got it!”

  Zoe nudges me. “I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

  “I’m feeling adventurous.”

  “That new dick has you acting all sorts of crazy.”

  “It has nothing to do with that.”

  Todd grins. “You got some new dick, oh did you?”

  “I don’t get why the two of you have to be so brash about it, but, yes, I met a guy.”

  “Mmmm. What’s his name?”

  “Angelo.”

  “He’s Italian?”

  I nod.

  “I’ve always had an affinity for Italian men. What can I say? I’m a sucker for a seasoned sausage!”

  We all share a laugh. We catch up for the next few hours. I barely recognize my reflection by the time I walk out of the salon with Zoe. Todd was right, the bob haircut does complement my face, and the color is perfect.

  It wasn’t cheap though. I’ve never spent this much money on hair in my whole life. But what the hell am I waiting for? I only have a finite time to blow through all of my savings and charge the hell out of my credit cards.

  Outside, Zoe is all smiles. She pulls out her cell phone and wraps her arm around me.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Selfie time. We have to capture this moment. Two hot bitches, ready for the weekend!”

  I laugh, as she snaps a few photos. I even get daring and try some duck lips. It’s just silly fun. And then it hits me; these times won’t last long. I love Zoe too much to keep her in the dark.

  “What are you about to do?”

  “Nothing. But I’m starving. How about you? Are you hurrying home to your chicken stir fry for the umpteenth time?”

  “No. I’m giving that a break.”

  “Thank God!”

  “Wanna grab a bite to eat?”

  “What are you in the mood for?”

  “I was thinking burritos.”

  “That’s right up my alley. I need to make a quick run, and I’ll meet you there.”

  “Okay.”

  A few minutes later, I pull up into the parking lot of Fernando’s. This is the best Mexican restaurant in town. They serve the authentic shizzle here. Every other place is like a glorified Taco Bell.

  I walk inside, and the hostess smiles at me.

  “Table for two.”

  “Right this way.”

  I follow her to a booth in the back. I slide into the seat, and she places two menus in front of me along with chips and salsa. Chips are nothing but empty calories, but I can’t think of anything I’d rather put in my mouth besides Angelo’s cock, so I dig in.

  Mmmm! These are so fucking good. I can’t even remember the last time I had tortilla chips. The salty goodness just warms my soul. Zoe walks in, and I wave at her.

  She makes a beeline to the booth and sits across from me. She devours the chips. I just don’t get it. She can eat all of this junk and maintain her figure. Me, on the other hand … Why am I still obsessed about this shit anyway?

  “So, what’s the occasion?”

  “You’re hungry. I’m hungry. No occasion.”

  I don’t know if I can tell her. I want to, but I don’t feel any more courageous than I did that first day Dr. Patel told me the news. Our waiter, an attractive young man with funky-looking sideburns approaches us.

  “Welcome to Fernando’s. My name is Javier, and I’ll be taking care of you. Can I get you ladies started with anything to drink?”

  Zoe nods.

  “I’ll have a white wine.”

  He looks at me.

  “Pineapple margarita please.”

  “On second thought, bring me a margarita too.”

  “You need a little more time to look over the menu?”

  I nod.

  “Alright. Let me get those drinks for you.”

  He heads to the bar.

  Zoe smiles. “I can’t believe you.”

  “What?”

  “Ordering a margarita!”

  “Why not?”

  “Something’s up. You pick up a guy in a bar. You change your hair. And now you’re giving light beer a rest. For the love of God, what’s gotten into you?”

  I take a deep breath. I definitely want to wait for those drinks to come out before I break the news. I stuff my mouth with chips. Zoe follows suit.

  “Not that I mind one bit. This new Cathy is so much fun.”

  “You think so?”

  Javier walks over with our margaritas. We thank him.

  “Ready to order?”

  I turn to him.

  “Just give us a minute.”

  “Sure. No problem.”

  He walks over to another table. I’m grateful that there’s no one within earshot at the moment. I guzzle down a third of that margarita. Zoe chuckles.

  “Would it kill you to slow down?”

  “It’s gonna kill me no matter what.”

  “Huh?”

  “Remember the other day when I had that horrible migraine?”

  “Of course. I picked up the meds for you. I thought you were better.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You still have a headache?”

  “Not at the moment, but on and off. And it’s going to get worse.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Zoe … I’ve been diagnosed with Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease.”

  “What the fuck is that?”

  I take a long drink. “Do us both a favor and don’t Google it.”

  “Cathy …”

  “It’s a rare degenerative brain disorder.”

  Her expression is solemn.

  “What?! When did you find out?”

  “I’ve known for like two weeks but …”

  “And why didn’t you tell me?”

  “How was I supposed to tell you? I … I only have a year to live. Tops.”

  Tears fill her eyes. “Cathy … no …”

  “At first, I wasn’t going to say anything because …”

  She sobs, and I start crying too. She walks over and slides in next to me in the booth. We hold each other. I haven’t been this emotional since Mom passed away.

  Doing this in a public place was a terrible idea. People are staring at us. Fuck them. I let go. These are all of the tears I’ve been holding back. It’s an ugly cry, but a cathartic one. No snot though. Not in public. Fuck it, yes, there’s snot. It’s a pity they have those fancy napkins here and not the tissue kind.

  My life is nothing like the movies because the song that starts playing in the background is La Bamba. I can’t help but smile at the irony of it all. Who wants to live forever – by Queen – would have been far more appropriate. This upbeat music nearly drowns out my misery. Zoe shakes her head.

  “Listen, I’ll be here. Whatever you need, Cathy. You don’t even have to ask. You understand?”

  I nod, as I sip my drink. I can barely taste the alcohol—which kind of defeats the whole purpose because I’m not even a huge fan of margaritas. But how can you come to a Mexican restaurant and not order one?

  “This is so weak, it’s pitiful.”

  “You can say that again. Let’s just order some shots.”

  “Yeah. Let’s make that happen.”

  “Cathy, from now on, I don’t want you to keep anything from me.”

  “Okay.”

  “I mean it.”

  “I know.”

  “You can be guarded and stubborn at times but I love you like a sister. We’ll get through this.”

  “Dr. Pate
l just wants to do tests and other shit but I’m not going to use the time I’ve got left doing that crap. He mentioned stuff about pain management, but honestly, right now I feel great. This is the first time like I feel like I’m actually living. I feel indestructible. I mean, sure, there is a very real possibility that I’ll end up in a coma.”

  “Fuck!”

  “Less than 10,000 people get this shit every year in a country of over 300 million. And I get to be one of the lucky ones.”

  “Have you researched holistic treatments?”

  “You know that’s not my thing.”

  “That’s where I come in.”

  “I’m not going to the Amazon forest to see some witch doctor. I’ve pretty much accepted my fate. The best I can do is try and make the most of the time I have left, you know?”

  “So that would explain all of this bizarre behavior.”

  “I haven’t done anything you haven’t done. Wait. Have you ever been skinny dipping?”

  “Get the fuck out of here! You went skinny dipping?”

  “Yeah, with Angelo at the lake.”

  “You dirty little slut.”

  I laugh.

  “Seriously, Cathy, you deserve to have all the fun your heart desires.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Good! I’m in. And we’ll start with some tequila tonight.”

  “Tequila? Oh shit!”

  Zoe and I and drink our fill at Fernando’s. For the first time in my life, I drive home tipsy. Not drunk but probably right at the borderline of failing a Breathalyzer. But I feel much better. Keeping a secret like that from Zoe was eating away at me.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I feel like I should go and see Dr. Patel, he keeps leaving messages, I don’t listen to them. My landlord even told me that a doctor came to my apartment while I was out…I know he’s just doing what a doctor is supposed to… but I just don’t feel up to it. I’ve already been given the worst news I can get, so what I don’t know at this point can’t hurt me. I’m trying to avoid depressing conversations unless more tequila is involved. Tequila makes the world a better place.

  As I drive to work—and honestly I don’t know why I still go, it’s something to do I guess; I hate being alone and this keeps me occupied and my mind active—I reflect on how Zoe is acting so differently around me. It’s only been two days since I’ve told her the news and my phone is constantly chiming with inspirational quotes from Maya Angelou to Cher. Yes, Cher!