Big Girl (2010) (7 page)

At the end of the second interview, they thanked her for coming, told her they were seeing several other candidates, and would let her know. And after thanking them too, Victoria then found herself out on the street, looking up at the school, praying she would get the job. She had no idea if she would, and they had been so pleasant to her that it was hard to tell if they were just very polite or enthused about her. She didn't know. She walked west all the way to Fifth Avenue, and then north five blocks, to the Metropolitan Museum, where she saw a new wing of the Egyptian exhibit, and then had lunch in the cafeteria alone, before treating herself to a cab back to her hotel.

She sat in the backseat watching New York slide by and people swarm around like ants in the streets. All she could hope was that she would be part of it one day. She expected to hear back from Madison in a few weeks. And she realized that if she didn't get the job, she would have to start interviewing at other schools, in Chicago, and maybe even L.A., although the last thing she wanted to do was go home. But if nothing else turned up, she might not have any other choice. She dreaded the thought of living in L.A. again, and even worse, the possibility of living at home, and facing all the same problems she'd always had there. Living with her parents would be too depressing.

She packed her bag and took a cab to the airport. She had an hour to spare before her flight, and she was so anxious after the interview, wondering whether she had done well or not, that she went to the restaurant nearest her gate and ordered a cheeseburger and a hot fudge sundae, and devoured both. She felt stupid once she had. She hadn't needed it, or the french fries that came with it. But she had been starving and nervous, and the meal she'd eaten offered some comfort and relief from her terrors. What if she didn't get the job? She told herself that if she didn't, she'd find something else. But the Madison School was the one she wanted most, if they would just give her a chance. She knew how unlikely that was, fresh out of school.

When they called her flight, she got up, picked up her hand luggage, and headed for the gate. All she could do now was wait and go back to Northwestern. All things considered, for once it hadn't been a bad Valentine's Day. And it would be the best one of all if she actually got the job in the end. She was still nervous about it, when she got on the plane, even after the cheeseburger and hot fudge sundae. They hadn't helped. And she reminded herself as she put on her seat-belt that she would have to be serious about her diet again, and start jogging. Graduation was only three months away. But when she was offered a bag of nuts and another of pretzels, she couldn't refuse. She ate them absentmindedly as she thought about her interview, hoping she hadn't blown it in some way, and praying she'd get the job.

Chapter 7

Eric Walker, the head of the Madison School, made the call to Victoria himself in the first week of March. He said it had been a tough choice between her and several other teachers, but he was happy to tell her that she had the job, and she was thrilled. He said a contract had been sent to her by mail.

She was going to be the youngest member of the English department, and she would teach four classes, to sophomores, juniors, and seniors. She had to report for teachers' meetings on September 1st, and school would start the following week. In exactly six months, she was going to be teaching at the Madison School in New York. She could hardly believe it. And unable to keep the good news to herself, she called her parents that night.

"I was afraid you'd do something like that," her father said with a disapproving tone. He actually sounded disappointed in her, as though she'd been arrested for taking her clothes off in a supermarket and was in jail. As in
why did you go and do a dumb thing like that?
"You're never going to make a penny as a teacher, Victoria. You need to get a
real
job, in advertising or PR, or something in the communications field. There are lots of things you can do. You can work in the PR office of any major company. You can go to work at McDonald's and make more than you will as a teacher. It's a total waste of time. And why New York? Why not here?" He didn't even ask what kind of school it was, and gave her no credit for landing her first job, in a first-rate school, against stiff competition. All he had to say was that it was the wrong job in the wrong city, and she'd always be poor. But teaching was her chosen career, and it was one of the country's best private schools.

"I'm sorry, Dad," she said, apologizing for it, as though she had done something wrong. "It's a really great school."

"Really? How much are they paying you?" he asked bluntly. She didn't want to lie to him, so she told him the truth. And she knew too that it was going to be hard to live on, but it was worth the sacrifices to her, and she wasn't planning to take anything from him. "That's pathetic," he said, sounding disgusted, and handed the phone to her mother, who sounded worried the minute she got on the phone.

"What happened, dear?" her mother asked.

"Nothing. I just got a terrific job, teaching at a wonderful school in New York. Dad just thinks they're not paying me enough, that's all. But it's a real coup that they hired me at all."

"It's such a shame that you want to be a teacher," her mother said, echoing the party line, and managing to convey to Victoria, just as she always had, that she had failed, and was a disappointment to them. They took the fun out of everything for her, and always had, and any sense of accomplishment over what she had achieved. "You could make so much money doing something else."

"I think I'll really like the job, Mom. I love the school," she said, sounding young and hopeful, and trying to hold on to the excitement and enthusiasm and pride she had felt before she called.

"I suppose that's nice, dear. But you can't be a teacher forever. At some point you'll have to get a real job." When did teaching become not a "real" job? It was all about money to them, and how much you made. "Your sister just made fifty thousand dollars for a two-day shoot for a national campaign," her mother said. It was more than Victoria was going to make in a year. And Grace just did it for fun, and the college fund their parents had set up for her. To Gracie, modeling was like a game, for which she was highly paid, and she only did it occasionally. Victoria was going to be working hard for the money she made. The discrepancy and dichotomy were shocking to her. But it was no secret that teaching was not a highly paid job, and she had known that when she chose it as a career. She didn't have the modeling opportunities that Gracie did anyway. They were not an option for her. And teaching was her vocation, not just her work. She hoped that she'd be good at it. "Where are you going to live?" her mother asked her, sounding worried about that too. "Can you afford an apartment on a teacher's salary? New York is a very expensive city."

"I'll get something with roommates. I'll go back there in August and get settled before I start work."

"When are you coming home?"

"Right after graduation. I want to spend this summer with you." She wasn't planning to get a summer job this year. She wanted to take some short trips with Gracie, and spend time with them, before she officially moved to New York. She might never live in L.A. again, or have as much time to spend with them, although she would have summers off if she continued to teach. But she might have to take summer jobs to supplement her income. This was her last summer to be home and not working, and her parents were fine with it.

Victoria didn't go home for spring break--she took a job waiting on tables in a diner just off campus, to make some money to sock away. She was going to need every penny she could save for New York. But the meals they gave her for free at the diner got her off her diet again. She lived on meat loaf and mashed potatoes with gravy, and lemon meringue and apple pie a la mode for two weeks. It was tough to resist, especially the blueberry pancakes for breakfast at six
A.M
. when she started work. Her dream of losing weight by graduation was fading fast. And it was depressing always being on a diet, some new exercise program, and spending life on a treadmill to atone for her sins.

After killing herself at the gym all through April, and watching what she ate, she finally lost ten pounds. She was proud of herself. And she went to rent her cap and gown on the first of May. There was an endless line where they were handing them out, and when she finally got to the head of the line, the man assigning them looked at her to guess her correct size.

"Big girl, huh?" he said with a broad grin, and she had to fight back tears. She didn't answer, and didn't comment when he handed her an extra large that she didn't need. But she was tall enough to wear it, so she didn't complain. It was huge on her at least. She was planning to wear a short red skirt, high-heeled sandals, and a white blouse under it at graduation. The skirt was short, but no one would see it until she took the gown off. She loved the color, and her legs looked great.

She packed up all her things and sent them home two days before graduation, the day before her parents arrived. Gracie was coming with them, of course. And she was more beautiful than ever when Victoria saw her, wearing a white T-shirt and short shorts. She was fifteen now and, despite her diminutive size, looked eighteen. She could still do ads for children's clothes and often did. Victoria felt like an elephant standing next to her and her mother, but she loved Gracie anyway. The two sisters almost squeezed the air out of each other when they hugged, after they met her at the dorm.

They took Victoria out for dinner at a really nice restaurant that night, where several of the other graduates were having dinner too. Victoria had asked about bringing a few of her friends along, but her father had said they'd rather have dinner alone with her. And he felt the same about their celebratory lunch the next day too. He said they wanted Victoria to themselves, but what he was really saying, as he always did, was that he was not interested in meeting her friends. It was nothing new to Victoria. But she was happy to be with them anyway. And Gracie was constantly cuddling up to her. The two sisters were always inseparable when they were together. And Grace was starting to think about college too. She wanted to go to USC. And their parents were pleased because it was close to home. Her father said she was a real southern California girl, which made Victoria sound like a traitor for going to college in the Midwest, instead of congratulating her for her sense of adventure and going to a hard school.

The graduation ceremony of the Weinberg College of Arts and Sciences at Northwestern the next day was fraught with pomp, ceremony, and emotion. Christine was already crying when the procession began, and Jim was looking unusually proud with a damp eye as his daughter walked by him in her cap and gown, and Gracie snapped a picture and Victoria grinned, while trying to look solemn.

Just over a thousand students got their diplomas that day from Weinberg, in alphabetical order. Victoria shook hands with the dean who handed it to her. And she screamed as loud as everyone two hours later, when they threw their caps in the air and embraced each other. She had been solitary for much of her time at Northwestern, but she had nonetheless made some friends, and they had exchanged e-mail addresses and cell phone numbers, and they promised to stay in touch, even if that seemed unlikely. And then suddenly they were out in the world, as graduates, ready to take their place in their chosen careers.

Victoria had dinner with her family again that night at Jilly's Cafe, and it felt like a real celebration, as other graduates did the same at nearby tables. The next morning she and her family flew back to L.A. together. Victoria had spent the night at the Hotel Orrington with them, sharing a room with Gracie, as she had to give up her dorm room right after graduation. The two girls chatted late into the night, until they fell asleep next to each other. They were looking forward to spending the next three months together. Victoria hadn't told anyone, but she was planning to spend the summer following a serious weight-loss program so she could look her best when she started teaching at Madison in September. Her father had commented, when she took her gown off after graduation to return it, that she looked bigger than ever. As usual, he had said it with a broad smile. And then he complimented her on her long legs as he always did, but the first comment was far more powerful than the second. She never heard the compliment once he hit her with the insult.

She sat between her father and Grace on the flight home, and her mother was across the aisle reading a magazine. The two girls had wanted to sit together. They didn't even look related. And as she got older, Gracie was more and more the image of her mother. Victoria at every age was the image of no one.

Her father leaned over to speak to Victoria right after takeoff. She and Gracie had been talking softly, and were thinking of watching a movie.

"You know, you've got the time to look for a decent job when you get back to L.A. You can always tell that school in New York that you've changed your mind. Think about it," he said in a conspiratorial tone.

"I like the job in New York, Dad," Victoria insisted. "It's a great school, and if I back out now, my name would be dirt forever in the teaching community. I want the job."

"You don't want to be poor for the rest of your life, do you?" he said with a look of contempt. "You can't afford to be a teacher, and I'm not going to subsidize you forever," he commented bluntly.

"I'm not expecting you to, or even now, Dad. Other people live on teachers' salaries. So can I."

"Why should you have to? I can line up some interviews for you next week." He was dismissing her entire achievement in landing the job in New York. To him, it wasn't even a job. He kept telling her to get a "real" job for decent money.

"Thank you for the offer," she said politely, "but I want to stick with what I've got for now. I can always figure it out later if I really can't live on it. But I can always take a summer job and save the money."

"That's pathetic. It may seem all right to you at twenty-two, but trust me, it won't when you're thirty or forty. You can interview at the ad agency if you want to."

"I don't want to work in advertising," she said firmly. "I want to be a teacher." It was the thousandth time she'd said it to him. He shrugged in answer and looked annoyed, and after that she and Gracie put their headphones on and watched the movie. She was relieved not to have to talk to him about it anymore. Her parents were only interested in two things about her, her weight and how much money she was going to make at her job. And the third topic they brought up from time to time was her absence of a love life, which in both their opinions was a result of the first subject, her weight and size. Her father said, whenever the subject came up, that if she'd lose some weight, she'd find a boyfriend. She knew that wasn't necessarily the case, since plenty of girls who had perfect figures and were half her size couldn't find a boyfriend. And other girls who were overweight were happily married, engaged, or had significant others. Romance, she knew, wasn't directly tied to your weight, there were a lot of other factors. And her lack of self-esteem and their constantly picking on her and criticizing her didn't help her with that problem. They were never proud of her or satisfied with what she was doing, although both of her parents had said they were proud when she graduated from Northwestern. They just wished it had been UCLA or USC, and that she had found a different job than the one in New York, preferably one in L.A. in a different line of work. Whatever she did was never right or enough for them. And they never seemed to realize how painful their constant criticism was for her, or that it was why she no longer wanted to live in L.A. She wanted to put a whole country between them. That way she only had to see them at Thanksgiving and Christmas, and maybe one day she wouldn't go home for those either. But for now, she wanted to be with Gracie. Once Gracie left home, Victoria wasn't sure when she'd go home or how often. They had succeeded in driving her away and didn't even know it.

She and Gracie got in the back of the car on the way home from the airport. Their parents were talking in the front seat about what they were going to do for dinner. Jim offered to barbecue some steaks in the backyard, and he turned toward the backseat and winked at his older daughter. "I don't need to ask you, I know you're hungry. What about you, G, how do steaks sound for dinner?" he asked Gracie. Victoria stared out the window, looking like she'd been punched in the stomach. That was the reputation she had here, and the image they had of her, the one who was always hungry.

"Steaks sound fine, Dad," Gracie said vaguely. "We can order Chinese if you don't feel like making barbecue, or Victoria and I can go out for dinner if you and Mom are tired." They both would have preferred it but didn't want to insult their parents. And Jim insisted that he was happy to barbecue, as long as he and Victoria wouldn't be the only ones eating. It was the second shot he had taken at her in five minutes. It was going to be a long summer if this was how it started. It was a reminder to her that nothing had changed. Four years away at college, and a diploma, and they still treated her like the resident uncontrollable eater.