by J. S. Cooper
He looked over at me and sighed. “I’m sorry, Maggie. I had a busy day.”
“Oh.” I bit my lip, but the words came out anyway. “So are we together?”
“I don’t know. Can you give me some more time to think about it?”
“Sure.” I turned my back on him and opened the Angry Birds app on the screen. Within minutes, I heard Blake snoring, and I turned back around and saw that he was sleeping. I stared down at him with affection. He looked adorable. He would always be my gentle and adorable Blake, whether or not he felt the same way about me. I grabbed the remote and changed the channel to ‘Love Actually’ and sat back and enjoyed a good laugh and cry as I watched one of my favorite movies.
I had barely turned off the TV and cuddled into the blankets before I felt Blake’s hands around my waist. I turned around to see if he was up and wanted to have some fun, but I soon realized that he was still asleep. Well, mostly asleep.
“Night-night, Maggie Moo-moo,” he mumbled at me, and I leaned over and kissed him. He pulled me towards him and I snuggled into him, warm and happy that Blake wasn’t completely furious at me. I fell asleep listening to the sound of his heartbeat and had dreams of Blake and Oliver chasing me around a park. I awoke the next morning in a sweat and was pleased to find that I was still in his arms.
“Morning, Moo-moo,” he grinned and kissed me on the forehead before removing his arm from under me. “My arm’s killing me. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up for ages.”
“You could have moved me.” I frowned at him and pulled away, hoping he wouldn’t try and kiss me. My breath didn’t taste too righteous and didn’t want to get my morning breath all over him. I had a feeling that wouldn’t help the cause of us staying together.
“I didn’t want to wake you.” He laughed. “You’re not exactly a teddy bear.”
“What does that mean?”
“Well, you’re not a baby eh, you’re a grown woman with the weight of one.”
“Oh, my God, are you calling me fat, Blake?” I growled at him and sat up. “I can’t believe you would call me fat.”
“Maggie,” he sighed. “I’m not calling you fat. I’m just saying that you are not as light as a teddy bear or a feather. If I would have moved your body, I would have woken you up.”
“Sorry for not being stick-thin.”
Blake rolled his eyes and got out of the bed. “And here I thought I was being nice.”
“Yeah. ‘Wake up, fatty, you’re crushing my arm’ is a nice way to greet someone,” I shouted grumpily.
“Well, good morning to you, too, Maggie.” Blake stared at me and sighed. “I really don’t know what your problem is, Mags.”
“Maybe I’ll go to the gym and start a celery diet so you can have the princess you want.” I glared at him.
“What?” He looked at me like I was crazy, and for some reason, that set me off even more.
“Maybe, once I lose 100 pounds and look like a paperclip, you’ll decide you want to be my boyfriend and will ask me to model my sexy lingerie.” I jumped out of bed and ran to my suitcase and pulled out the sexy nightgowns I had bought. “Maybe you’ll want to be my man when I look like a string-bean in one of these?”
Blake started laughing, and I glared at him with all the venom I could muster. “What’s so funny?”
“The fact that you think I’d want to date a string bean.” He stopped laughing as he saw that I was furious. “What’s the problem now, Maggie? Did you just wake up on the wrong side of the bed again?”
“Why do you think I’m upset? I’m in some no-man’s land where I don’t know if my boyfriend still wants to be my boyfriend anymore.”
“It’s just a label, Maggie,” he sighed. “When did you become the crazy girlfriend?”
“I’m not crazy.”
“I don’t have time for this, Maggie. I don’t want to deal with this right now.”
“Well, I want an answer.” I pointed him in the chest. “Why is it always the girl waiting on the guy?”
“You want me to tell you right now if I want you to be my girlfriend?” Blake frowned. “Are you really sure you want me to make a decision now?”
“Yes.” I folded my arms across my chest and tried to ignore the rumbling in my stomach as I stared at his angry handsome face. “I want an answer now.”
“Then no, Maggie. I don’t want to be your boyfriend. I don’t think a relationship between us is right at this time.” He bit his lip. “And now I have to go get ready for work.”
I stared at him in shock. Even though I had pretended that I thought Blake was going to dump me, I really hadn’t thought that he would. Blake was my one. At least he was meant to be. We were meant to be together. I thought we were soul mates or whatever that person was for people like me. I thought he would tell me that nothing could ever break us apart, but here we were, not a few weeks after we had started dating, and we were over already. I turned my face away from him and made the bed.
“Maggie, are you okay?” He walked up to me and touched my shoulder. His words were soft and full of concern. As always, he was the perfect, caring man. And it made me hate him even more.
“I’m fine!” I shouted and jumped away from him. “I’ve got a Chanel bag and I’m going to go out.”
“What?” I heard confusion in his voice.
“Nothing.” I turned around and faced him as soon as I made sure no tears were going to fall from my eyes. “I’ve got a new Chanel bag and I’m going to work on my book today.” And hopefully Oliver will call, I thought to myself.
“I’m glad you’re going to work on your book.” He smiled at me kindly. “You know I don’t want to hurt you, Maggie.”
“Yeah.” Whatever!
“I won’t be as busy when we get to France.”
“We’re still going to France?” I frowned. “When?” I didn’t want to go to France now that I had met someone else in England.
“In about a week,” he grinned at me. “Aren’t you excited?”
“Not really.”
“Oh, Maggie.” He drew me towards me and rubbed my hair. “You’re incorrigible. Let’s talk later, okay?”
“Yeah. Sure,” I mumbled. I stood there obstinately not smiling and he looked at my face with a small smile before leaning in to kiss me. He paused and scratched his head before pulling back.
“Maggie, have a good day. We’ll talk later, okay?”
“Yeah. Bye.” I turned around and walked to the bathroom and slammed the door as Blake went back to his own room. I had no idea how he managed to make me feel this way. I was upset and hurt, but I was also starting to think that I was partially to blame for what had happened. Hadn’t I pushed him when he was upset and mad? Didn’t Cosmo always say that you should never push for a talk about your relationship when the guy was in a bad mood? I was pretty sure I had violated all the rules of relationships. And the mere fact that I had been soo concerned about being boyfriend and girlfriend. Hello, High School called and they wanted me back. I sighed as I stared at myself in the mirror. I was fated to always being pleasantly plump, completely overdramatic, and most probably single. I’d die with Lucy by my side (hopefully she lived that long), some frozen pizza in my freezer, a cupboard full of chocolate and cake mixes, and five started but unfinished books. To top it off, I’d be living in Gayle’s basement, and would have to listen to her and Ben making love all day and night. Oh, what an awful life I had in store for me.
I grabbed my toothbrush and sighed. Today was the day I’d start over with my diet. No more French fries for me. I’d make the healthy choice from now on – broccoli or spinach, all the way. Maybe I’d even get broccoli and spinach; that would show everyone. No longer would people look at me in horror when I ordered French fries with my cheeseburger, with a regular Coke, and chocolate cake for dessert. No longer would I think I’d hear them whispering about me and my choices. From here on out, I’d see the respect in their faces at my choices. Maybe I’d even become a vegetarian. And then Blake would be beggin
g me to get back together with him. He’d wish he hadn’t dumped me so unceremoniously then. I was going to lose all the weight once and for all, and I was going to show everyone that a new Maggie Lane was finally here: strong, smart, sassy, and thin. With a cool Chanel bag, to boot.
I walked back into my room after my shower with new verve and purpose and smiled when I saw the flashing light on the phone. I ran to it, thinking that perhaps George Clooney was on the line, wanting to take me on a hot date. Maybe he’d seen my photo in the paper and wanted to date me. It wasn’t George, but I was still pretty happy as I answered the phone and listened to the message. It was Oliver and he had explained the situation to his sister and she was going to issue a retraction. Yay! I wasn’t going to be sued. And the best part was he asked me out for lunch – today, if I was available. I just needed to call him back and let him know. I felt slightly guilty at my joy. Kinda like a slut. But it wasn’t like I was going to sleep with Oliver, and it wasn’t like it would be an issue if I did anyways. Blake had dumped me. Cruelly and coldly. He didn’t care about me. So why should I care about him?
It wasn’t like I wanted to be in his arms all day and all night. It wasn’t like he was the first person I called when I was sad, happy, or needed help. It wasn’t because when he laughed at my jokes, I felt like the funniest person in the world. I tried to ignore the feelings of guilt as I wrote down Oliver’s number so I could call him back. Blake had been the love of my life for so long that I wasn’t sure if I really loved him and wanted to be with him, or if I just loved the idea. Maybe we really weren’t made for each other. He had dumped me pretty easily and quickly. I mean, if he had really loved me, he would have stayed with me and we could have talked over our issues. I sighed and jumped back onto the bed and hugged his pillow to me. It smelled like Blake, and I inhaled deeply. I realized how much I missed him as I lay there. I just wanted my friend back, the one who was there to support me through thick and thin, no matter what happened. Maybe he had done us both a favor; maybe we should just go back to being best friends. Maybe we weren’t cut out for being more. Maybe Oliver was the one for me.
I had always fancied English men, and I knew all the words to Oliver Twist. Maybe that was a sign. Maybe we could sing songs together. And he could move to Los Angeles to see how the relationship went. I was starting to warm to the idea as I ignored the gnawing pain and stress in my stomach. And what was lunch? It was nothing. But at least I’d be able to see if we were meant to be.
12
Dear Diary,
Did you know that all English people don’t absolutely adore ‘Oliver Twist’? And that many of them haven’t met the Queen? I mean, I know I haven’t met President Obama, or President Bush or President Clinton, but still. I‘m talking about the Queen here. If I lived in England, I would try and make sure that I at least had tea and sandwiches with her. How fancy would that be? Twining’s tea with cute little cucumber sandwiches with the crusts cut off. I would likely have to go to McDonald’s afterwards because the sandwiches would be unlikely to fill me up, but what a story for me to tell while I was ordering my chicken nuggets and fries. They’d most probably be so impressed, that they would supersize me for free and ask to take a photo with me and stuff. I figure I’d make a better Englishman that most Englishmen. Oh, and Oliver is swoon-worthy.
So, I have to admit that I was only kind of excited to call Oliver back. I was happy to speak to him, but I was still feeling a bit bad about Blake. He had really hurt my feelings, but instead of doing the sensible thing and thinking over everything that had happened and asking for another conversation, I decided to jump right into another relationship. Okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration. One date with Oliver didn’t a relationship make, but I did have a guilty feeling when I dialed the numbers and agreed to meet him for lunch.
As I got dressed, the fat blues hit me, and I blamed it on karma. Nothing I tried on looked good. It just didn’t seem fair. Gayle could wear skinny jeans and look skinny. I wore skinny jeans and I still looked like I had thick thighs and biker calves. Even my normally slimming black V-top made me look and feel pudgy. I almost wanted to cancel the date or lunch or whatever we were calling it. As I put on my makeup, I pulled up YouTube on my iPad (thank you, Blake) and practiced singing different songs from Oliver Twist. “Consider yourself at home, consider yourself…” Damn, I thought to myself as I went to meet Oliver, I had already forgotten the words to the song I was going to say I loved the best. I guess I would just have to throw in a witty and cool way to say to the waiter, “Please, sir, may I have some more?” I was giggling to myself as I walked into the restaurant. And I have to admit, my heart was beating fast as I saw Oliver.
He turned towards me with a huge smile, and I walked towards him with as confident a walk as I could, feeling as dowdy as I did. He was wearing a blue and white rugby shirt, with faded blue jeans. His blond hair looked blonder than ever, and I wanted to ask him if he dyed it. I’d never thought a guy in England could get such golden tresses, with the lack of sunshine they had here.
“Hi, Maggie Lane.” He greeted me with a hug, and I hugged him back eagerly.
“Hello, Oliver Richards.” I smiled at him, while groaning inside. I thought it was a bit weird to be using last names in a greeting. “Good to see you.” I grinned, and we sat down. I looked around a little disappointed. It looked to me like we were in a health food store. Everyone was eating wraps and salads, and I couldn’t see any burgers or fries anywhere. I tried to keep my sigh to myself; I knew I was on a diet, but I figured I could have one last burger before I really said goodbye to all oily foods.
“Well, this looks like a great place to eat,” I lied.
“Thanks, it’s one of my favorites.” He smiled at me kindly. “I know how you Americans are into your healthy eating.”
“Uh, yeah.” Not me, I thought.
“They have great alfalfa and spinach sandwiches.”
“Ooh, sounds yummy.” I tried to fake a smile as a waitress brought over two menus.
“Would you two like to start off with our green juice today?” she asked us in a bored voice. Even she knew that this food sucked, I thought.
“Green juice?” I asked her inquiringly. Was that green because it was apple juice or because it was more alfalfa and spinach?
“Yes, ma’am. Our fresh juice has broccoli, lemon rinds, spinach, kale, and carrots.” She smiled at Oliver as he made a happy sound.
“That sounds delicious. I’d love one,” he grinned.
“Any other fresh juices today?” I asked, my voice weak. I could feel all hunger and thirst leaving me.
“We also have our carrot, orange, ginger, and celery juice.” She looked at me again, and I knew that she knew I had no interest in any of these healthy juices. There was no way that anyone who was a size 12 or higher was a health food nut. She knew it, and I knew it.
“I’ll have the green juice.” I smiled at her smarmily. Take that, bitch, I thought. “I only hope it’s as good as the ones I make before I go to the gym every day.” And another point for me, I thought.
I saw the waitress give me a look up and down, and I knew she was wondering what gym I went to, because it wasn’t doing a great job.
“And we’ll order in a minute, thanks.” Oliver dismissed her and turned towards me. “I guess you go to the gym a lot in the States, huh?”
I nodded, not wanting to actually speak a lie.
“That’s one of the things I love about you guys; you are all so health-conscious. Not like most of us Brits, who only want to eat sausages and chips.”
“Well, you know. It’s just something that happens when you live in LA.” I smiled. “And I only really started going to the gym recently.”
“You are so modest, Maggie.” He leaned forward. “This may sound funny because of how we met, but there is just something about you that makes me laugh.”
“Well, I’d do anything for you, dear, anything; for you mean everything to me.” I beamed and giggled.
Unfortunately, it didn’t seem as if Oliver recognized that song from Oliver Twist, because he looked at me like I was a bit off. “I’m just reciting a song from Oliver Twist,” I explained slowly.
“Uh, okay?”
“It’s a book written by Charles Dickens that was turned into a movie and a play.”
“I know who wrote Oliver Twist.” He laughed. “I’m just not sure why you chose to randomly recite the words to one of the songs.”
“Oh, it’s one of my favorites.”
“Okay.” He turned to his menu. “I think I know what I’m getting, what about you?”
I looked at the menu and tried to pretend that there were many items that looked appealing to me, as opposed to none. I didn’t want a vegetable sandwich or wrap. Not with a vegetable drink. I looked for the items on the menu that seemed like they would taste the least gross. It was between a cream cheese and Brussels sprout wrap and a mushroom and Brussels sprouts sandwich. Those were seriously the best choices. I honestly wanted to cry.
“I think I’m ready.” I smiled, hoping that the Brussels sprouts were at least well-seasoned and roasted so that they were of a more crispy texture.
“Want to share a seaweed salad?”
“Sure.” No. I sighed as we placed our orders and hoped that I would be able to keep the meal down.
“So what do you normally eat when you go out?”
“Uh, sandwiches.” I smiled at him widely, not wanting to tell him I was a weekly pizza eater who loved to go through Taco Bell, KFC, and McDonald’s drive-thrus, and sometimes in the same night.
“Ha, you Americans love sandwiches.”
“I guess it’s because we are all practicing for when we meet the Queen.”
“Which Queen?” Oliver looked at me with a frown. “I thought there was no monarchy in the States.”
“Queen Elizabeth.” I wanted to add duh, but thought maybe we shouldn’t get into an argument too soon. “So how many times have you met her?”