Love for Scale (7 page)

“About what? A holiday?” Rachel clutched tightly at the curtain, hoping it covered everything. Lily had always been exactly what Rachel was not: willowy and tall, popular with the boys. Rachel had even had the pleasure on several occasions to witness Lily reminding Aaron (always with a wink or a vulpine grin) just how lucky he had been to get her. Tact had never been her strong point.

Lily began to fidget. “No, not about a holiday. We’ve split up.”

Sheri’s eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything. She looked back at Rachel.

“What?” Rachel’s knees almost buckled.

“We’re getting a divorce.” Lily shifted her weight from her left to her right foot. “You know, your brother will just never grow up.”

Looking out over Lily’s shoulder, Rachel tried to think back to the last time Aaron was over at the house. He had shown up after work looking for a meal recently. Had there been any signs? He had said that Lily was away on business, but never anything about them breaking up or even that they were having problems.

“I’m sure he hasn’t told my parents. I’m sure I would have known.”

“Maybe he didn’t want to tell your parents because he’s a good for nothing man-child. And I guess even if he had, your mother would have just nagged him to death. ‘Oy Aaron, what has happened, my
bubbelah
! Here, have some
kugel
…’” She did a fair impression of Pearl.

Stepping back, Rachel was shocked at Lily’s outburst. She had always been outspoken at family dinners, but usually, it was to offer her opinion on fashions (and fashion
victims
) and why she never ate gluten. But never anything like this.

Sheri took a side step so she was standing between Rachel and Lily. “Excuse me, can you turn the volume down on the bitch just a smidge?”

Lily didn’t respond, except with a killer glare aimed right at Sheri. Neither woman’s eyes wavered as they battled wills, their eyes their only weapons.

Rachel looked from Lily to Sheri, putting her money on Lily for the winner if things got physical. Sheri was scrappy, but Lily taught self-defense at the Jewish Community Centre.

Rachel took it upon herself to break it up before it turned into a bona fide catfight. “Listen, I know what Aaron can be like, and I certainly know what my parents can be like, but are you sure it’s over? I mean have you tried counseling and everything?” Lily would not have been Rachel’s first choice of spouses for her brother but she knew he adored her. She couldn’t imagine what could have broken them up.

Lily nodded. “It’s so over. I’ve moved out.”

“When?” Rachel couldn’t believe Aaron had kept this secret.

Lily rolled her eyes. “Uh, like two months ago.”

“Oh my God,” Rachel said.

Lily shrugged and smiled. “Anyway, you never said what you thought of this bikini.”

* * *

Rachel ended up buying the first bathing suit she had tried on, not having the emotional strength to continue the torture for any longer than was absolutely necessary. Plus, she wanted to get away from Lily. They left her in the bathing suit store, still shopping for bikinis to take with her on her ‘newly single’ cruise to the Caribbean.

“It would have been so much cooler if she’d just turned lesbian,” Sheri said as they walked out of the store. “Although I just can’t see her wearing a lot of flannel…”

Rachel couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of Lily the fashionista in a plaid, flannel shirt. “Sher, this is my brother’s wife we’re talking about, not some sitcom chick.”       

“Whatever, he’ll get over it. She was always a bitch.”

No arguing with that.

“Are you going to tell your parents?” Sheri asked. “It doesn’t sound like Aaron has any intention of it. I mean two months…”

Rachel snorted, “Nope. I’m not going to be the one dropping
that
bomb! No way.”

“Can I? That would be fun.” Sheri smiled.

“I need something, let’s grab some food.” Turning around, Rachel began walking back the other way toward the noisy food court.

A step behind, Sheri skipped to catch up. “You sure? What about your diet?”

Rachel stopped short, a sigh escaping her lips. “Ugh. I forgot. Just a black coffee then, I guess. I need
something
.”

Chapter 9

“That’s great, you’ve lost four pounds!” the skinny girl whose name tag read ‘Candy’ (yes: how incredibly ironic) said excitedly. She smiled as she wrote it down in Rachel’s progress booklet.

Rachel felt like she’d just gotten an A in an advanced trigonometry class; trigonometry being her most challenging and dreaded subject in high school (next to dating, that is). She slipped her shoes back on and waited for Candy to finish recording the information so she could take her book and leave.

She was happy with her progress, although she wasn’t surprised to see a loss, having followed the program exactly for the past week. She had drunk every required glass of water and more, had counted every bite and had written it all down in her weekly journal.

Having so much control over her own life was strangely exhilarating, despite the restrictions.

“You’re staying for the meeting aren’t you?” Candy asked as she passed the booklet back to Rachel.

Glancing over at the meeting room she noticed rows of chairs set up, some already occupied by chatting women. Rachel hesitated. Her pantyhose were heating up and she was starving; she hadn’t eaten since her lunch break, having been cognizant that any snack could show up on the scale at weigh-in. She just wanted to get home. She bit her lip and turned back to Candy. “Is it required?”

Candy frowned. “Well, no, but you should go, it’s really helpful. I never would have lost all my forty pounds if it wasn’t for the meetings. Everyone is here to support you.” Her smile was encouragement personified.

The people who worked at the Weight Watchers office were all very nice, Rachel concluded. She was sure it was because they’d all been clients first. They could empathize, they’d all been there. Not like the emaciated models who worked at the plus size store: you could tell those women had never had a weight problem and although they acted nice, were probably judging their customers inside their heads. Sometimes it would even slip out: “
Oh, dear, I don’t know what they were thinking when they made these outfits, but you can’t wear stripes that go horizontally, only
vertical
stripes for
you.” Rachel, having learned her lesson, just shooed them away when they got so close as to begin to open their mouths for a comment. She hated those judgy skinny bitches.

Rachel looked back at the meeting room, realizing that she was holding up the line behind her by standing at the weigh-in station overly long. Feeling the several sets of eyes on her was enough. She took a deep breath and walked into the meeting room, choosing a seat on an aisle (in case she needed to bolt). She checked her watch and discreetly surveyed the people who were already seated.

“…and they’re only one point!” said a middle-aged woman in the front row who had turned to talk to another woman behind her.

“Get out, one point for a cheesecake?” said the other woman shaking her head in disbelief.

“It’s true, I swear. They’re made for diabetics.”

Rachel hoped that whatever cheesecake they were talking about at a scant point each, would be mentioned in the meeting. She didn’t have the nerve to go up and ask the ladies. Although, what did she have to lose? And it could mean a low point dessert…

“Is that seat taken?” a strangely familiar voice came from above and slightly behind her.

She looked up to see Finn, the unchosen speed dater from the week before, smiling down at her. She blinked several times before she realized that he was waiting for her to respond to his question. “Oh, uh no, go ahead.” She picked up her coat which she had draped over the chair beside her and tucked her legs under her as best she could as he squeezed by.
Maybe I should have scootched over a seat
, she thought, that would have been much easier. Still, she liked the idea of being able to make a clean getaway.

Looking straight ahead, trying to figure out the best way to amend the awkward situation, Rachel felt Finn’s eyes on her.

He had to know by now that she hadn’t picked him. It had been over a week since Rachel had gotten her results from the speed dating, so he must have gotten his too. She wondered if he too had been picked by no one; a humiliation even worse than going to the stupid event in the first place. At least the guys who hadn’t picked her weren’t sitting beside her at a fat people meeting, facing her and having to explain. Her face was hot and beet red, she was sure.

“So that speed dating thing was lame, huh?” Finn chuckled awkwardly, still trying to catch Rachel’s eye.

Rachel turned to look at him, but his eyes dropped the second she did. “Yeah. Listen, I’m really sorry…”

Finn shook his head. “You don’t need to explain. It’s okay.”

But she
did
need to explain. She’d had enough people treat her like trash to know she didn’t want Finn thinking she would do that, even if she weren't interested in him in
that
way.

“No, I just haven’t been in a really good place lately. I got roped into going to that thing by my mother, but I wasn’t really into it, you know?” She looked down at her hands, smoothing the fabric of the same skirt she had worn to speed dating. It was the one she abhorred: the biggest one she had, the last one that fit.

“Yeah.” Finn fidgeted his fingers obviously just as uncomfortable as she was.

“I’m really trying to make a change,” Rachel mumbled. “I guess that’s why I’m here.”

Finn just nodded.

Glancing at the clock, Rachel was relieved to see that the meeting was scheduled to start in only a few minutes. A few long, agonizing minutes if she didn’t come up with something to say.

“So what kind of name is Finn?” she asked. “It’s not your typical Jewish name.” She cocked her head. “Unless you’re not actually Jewish but…”

Finn smiled. A
real
smile. “No, I’m really Jewish. It’s a good story, actually,” he said.

Rachel nodded at him, encouraging him to continue.

“The original Finn was a friend of my grandfather’s. My grandfather lived in a poor part of town that was like a ghetto. Not like a ghetto today, but that’s what
he
called it. Anyway, him and Finn, Finnegan was his name actually, as is mine, used to play and go to school together. Well, one day they were swimming in a creek and my grandfather almost drowned, but as he went under, Finn pulled him out of the water and saved his life. A year later Finn died of pneumonia when he was just twelve. My grandfather swore he would name his firstborn son Finnegan.”

Intrigued by the story, Rachel couldn’t help but notice the discrepancy “But you’re not his son, you’re his grandson.”

Finn hunched over and shrugged, “Oy, I’m blessed with four
goils
,
vat
can I do?” his impression of anyone’s grandparents who had emigrated from the old country was right on.

Rachel giggled.

“Four daughters and enough brains not to call any of
them
Finnegan. So he made my mother and her sisters swear that the first one to have a boy would name him Finnegan. And here I am.”

“That
is
a great story.” Rachel smiled, wishing she had a namesake or even a cool name like Finnegan.

“AND WELCOME BACK TO WEIGHT WATCHERS EVERYBODY!” a woman bellowed from the front of the room so loud, Rachel nearly fell off her chair.

A series of hoots and hollers sounded from around the room. Wide-eyed, Rachel turned to Finn, who was unabashedly whooping it up with the rest of them.

“For anyone who’s new today, my name is Donna and I am your friendly neighborhood Weight Watchers leader. And how is everybody feeling today?” She paced back and forth in front of the full room, holding a roll of stickers in her hand. “Anybody feeling good?”

Is that woman on uppers?
Rachel wondered.

Finn looked at Rachel, a deep blush creeping up his neck. Almost reluctantly, but sporting a big grin, he lifted his hand.

He had been spotted. “Finnegan Schwartz, come on down. I KNOW you’re feelin’ good today.” Donna stood, staring at Finn as the whole room burst into encouraging applause.

Rachel slid her knees around into the aisle so Finn could get past her again. He walked up to the front of the room, the blush having migrated north to cover his entire face. When he got up there, the applause abruptly stopped.

“What have you got to tell us, Finnegan Schwartz?” Donna asked.

There was a buzz in the room that was almost palpable. Rachel looked around and heard whispers and twittering. All of the women and the few men in the room had huge smiles on their faces, staring forward at the spectacle. She was apparently the only one in the room who didn’t already know.

“I’m here for my one hundred pound ribbon,” Finn said almost inaudibly, looking at his feet.

Donna leaned in really close to Finn. “Excuse me, I didn’t quite hear you, you’re here for your WHAT?”

Finn looked up, the smile spreading like cream cheese on a hot bagel across his face. “I’m here for my one hundred pound ribbon!”

The room exploded into cheers and whistles, everyone on their feet clapping, including Rachel. The excitement was infectious. And she was stunned. Finn had lost one hundred pounds. Exactly what she needed to lose. She was so happy for him, for what it must feel like. She couldn’t even imagine what he was thinking, but the euphoric look on his face summed it all up.

She was just beginning her journey; he was well on his way.

As one, the entire room (except Rachel) broke into a song that only lasted a couple of moments but culminated in Donna pinning a ribbon on Finn’s chest and everyone bursting into cheers again. Finn was in tears, as were some of the people in the audience, Rachel noticed. But they were well-earned tears of joy; she could hardly blame them. Her heart was bursting with pride even though she hardly knew Finn; it was more that they shared something, something more intimate than a lame date at the synagogue. They both knew what it was like to be fat.