Moore To Love (7 page)

Shit! She’s right!
I still don’t get why Tatum cares so much, though, so I brush past her, chomping on the green stalk of not-so-yumminess. I plop down on the couch, cursing her under my breath for being right and for being so effortlessly skinny and for having to deal with this damn day without a tub of Rocky Road like the good old days.

She joins me, sans ice cream spoon, and grabs my shoulders. Pivoting me so we’re face to face, she demands, “Talk to me. What happened?”

I exhale, hoping to rid myself of the negative vibes, but when I sit straight up again my mood’s still as sour as can be. It would be nice to get on with our plans for the evening, so I decide to unleash and get this out of the way. “Well, besides being snubbed by the hot guy at the park—
again
—I just had one of those oh-woe-is-me days.”

“Elaborate.”

I fight back tears, recounting my day from hell. “The three bridesmaids were awful. Like Kardashian awful. Everything they did and said reminded me of my insecurities and struggles. If they weren’t paying me so well, I would have fucked up their makeup just to uglify them, but it wouldn’t have mattered. They were flawless from head to toe and they knew it. Then, the mother of the groom gushed on and on about how her son had met the most amazing girl. It was love at first sight and they’d only known each other two months before he popped the question because ‘you don’t let a beauty like that slip away.’

“As if that wasn’t enough sweetness to give me a toothache, Angie, my long time client, suspects she’s getting engaged tonight. The guy is super hot and beyond amazing from what she’s told me. I’m so happy for her because she’s a sweetheart herself, but . . .” I release it all like venom, spewing it out with jealousy.

“Okay.” Tatum interrupts before I can continue. “I get it, but this isn’t the first time you’ve done up a bridal party, Len. You’re around this all the time.”

“I know that, believe me, but it just hit home today. I want that. I want to be the beauty that some man can’t allow to slip away. I want the man, the ring, the happily ever after and the only thing stopping me is this!” I grab a large chunk of flesh from my middle and start to cry.

“No, honey,” Tatum cries along with me, kissing my tear stained cheek. “Your ridiculous image of yourself is stopping you. Only
you
can change that, babe. No matter how much I try to make you see how beautiful you are from the inside out, my words are weakened by your self doubt. It starts with you, Len. It’s all you.”

I cry for a few more minutes, wallowing in the struggle that’s overcome me.

I’ve heard it before, but this time it sinks in. The reason why? I’m ashamed to admit it, but the vision of Fancy Pants and Perfect Tits frolicking in the park today caused something to click and inspiration to strike. “I’m sorry I turned this night into Misery with Madeline,” I say as I sniffle and wipe away my tears.

Tatum uses her sleeve to help clean my face. “I’m your best friend. I’m here for you always, so no apologizing.”

“What would I do without you?” I ask, smiling through trembling lips.

“You would have eaten all the ice cream and cried all the tears, so thank fuck I’m here to tame your pitiful ass.”

Thank fuck is right. I never want to see another tub of Rocky Road again.

“GIRL! LOOK AT YOU GO!”

And go I did. “Shit, am I reading that right?” I stare at the numbers in astonishment. It’s been three months since I entered hell and now standing on this scale is a little slice of heaven.

“Hells yeah, you are! 1-8-3. Leni, this is amazing!” Mandy shouts as she pokes my arm. “You should be so proud of yourself!”

I am. I so am, but I’m still in shock. I haven’t been this weight since college. Since Alex. Not a happy memory. On the same token, I’m closer to my goal weight and in hindsight, it didn’t take much at all. I said
hindsight
. What’s the opposite of hindsight, because while I was going through it, it certainly didn’t
feel
easy?

“Say something, you fool! Did you lose your ability to speak with all those pounds, too?”

“I’m . . . I’m . . .” Tears erupt and I start to cry like a blubbering fool. “I’m so . . . happy.”

“Oh, baby. Then why are you crying?” Mandy helps me off the scale and pulls me into her arms where I unleash a river of tears into the crook of her neck.

It’s an overwhelming feeling. To some, this may sound ridiculous because there are so many greater accomplishments in life, but this is mine and I’m gonna ride the happy train for a while. “I just didn’t think I could do it. I haven’t cheated once by looking at the scale, just like you said, and part of it was because I was afraid I wasn’t making any progress.”

“My ass! Look at you! Your old clothes have to be falling off. You had to know you were losing, Len.”

“Yeah, but seeing the actual numbers make it real, you know?” I sniffle as I put my shoes back on and take another deep breath.
183.
What a beautiful number. Not perfect, but so much better than what I was before.

Mandy hands me my other shoe and lifts my chin with her finger so we’re eye to eye. “This doesn’t mean you go back to old habits. It piles back on a lot quicker than it melts away.”

As if she has to remind me. “I know the drill, Mandy. I’m not dense. But, sorry not sorry, I’m treating myself tonight.”

Her eyes go wide and her lips form a tight line.

Before she can scold me, I raise my hands in defense. “Calm your rock hard ass cheeks. I’m talking about a cocktail or two to accompany my grilled chicken and broccoli. Don’t worry. I’m not about to ruin the way this feels.” And oh, does it feel so damn good.

“That’s my girl!”

If I weren’t straight as a ruler I’d kiss her right on the mouth. As much as I wanted to kill her in the beginning, Mandy has become a hell of a friend. She’s talked me off eating benders and cooled my jets when I was on the verge of giving up. I owe her. “Hey, why don’t you and Jane join us for a night out? It’ll be fun, and I owe you a drink for putting up with me and getting me to this point.”

“Yeah? Who’s us? And when are we talking about?” A genuine, appreciative smile dons her lips.

“Tonight? Me, Ash, and my friend Tatum. Girls’ night. What do you say? Is it too last minute?”

Without much thought, Mandy nods her head and winks. “I think you’ve got yourself a date.”

“Should Jane be worried?” I joke.

She leans in closer and whispers, “Nah, honey, we like to share sometimes.”

My eyes pop to the size of double-stuffed Oreos.
Gulp.
I know I look good but this isn’t the type of attention I was going for.

Mandy’s laughter bellows throughout her office. She leans over, clutching her knees as she snorts. “I’m joking. Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Always the butt of the joke. That’s me. But not this time. Instead of letting her get the upper hand, I caress her arm in soft strides and arch a brow. “I’ve always wanted a little girl on girl action and with a little liquid courage and my new outlook on life, I might just be ready to cross an item off my bucket list and pull a Katy Perry—you do wear cherry Chapstick, right?”

It’s Mandy’s turn to gulp and my turn to snort at her open-mouthed disbelief. “Wh-what? Really? I’m flattered . . . but—”

“Gotcha!” I wink, pointing a not-so-pudgy-anymore finger in her face. “I’m all about that bass, babe, but it needs to have a drumstick, too. I’m just playing.”

She shakes her head and sighs. “Save your flirting for the
men
at the bar tonight, ’kay?”

I grab my purse from the hook behind the door as I open it to leave. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll text you and Jane the details later. Thanks for everything.”

“Anytime. Now go rejoice in your slenderness. You deserve it.”

I know I do. So instead of heading home to finish reading the rest of the book I started last night, I march my ass right to Fifth Avenue for some retail celebration. Mama needs a new pair of skinny jeans. I never thought I’d live to see the day!

“What about him over there?” Tatum nudges me and points to the model-like male sipping a martini. There’s no denying he’s hot, but I’m not quite ready to test that body of water just yet. I’m looking more for the down-to-earth dude with a beer and a concert tee. Not the enigmatic suit and tie stud. Besides, I don’t have to hold up my end of the bargain just yet.

“I haven’t reached my goal weight yet. You can’t force me to do anything.”

“Since when are you such a stickler for rules? Live a little, Skinny Minnie.”

“Yeah, I wish.” I roll my eyes and take another taste of my vodka tonic.

“If you roll your eyes one more time, I’m calling Mr. Martini over to slap your ass Christian Grey style,” Ashley warns me with a devious grin. She’s not joking. Remember what I told you about Vegas. Girl has balls for a dainty little goddess.

“I second that! I’m heading to the bar to grab Janie another drink. I don’t mind playing wing woman. Might as well make myself useful.” Mandy’s quick to chime in, fitting right in with my favorite gal pals.

“What is this, a jump on Leni party? I thought you were my friends.”

“We are your friends and we want to make this a
hump
on Leni party. Don’t you agree, girls?” Tatum rouses the table with cat calls and the rest of the bar ogles our way. Half the onlookers raise their glasses to toast our good time—Martini Man included—the rest just glower.

“I said girls’ night and I meant girls’ night. I’m not prepared for anything more.”

“Granny panties?” Ashley snickers.

“No!” I tsk. “Does your horny mind have no bounds?”

“I’m not horny, but you have to be! Your va-jay has to have cobwebs. When was the last time—”

“Ashley! Are you kidding? Not cool.”

“Not cool ‘cause it’s true or . . . ?” Jane seems rather curious. I wonder if there’s any truth to her wife’s comment about sharing other lovers.

“Oh my God, guys. I’m not talking about my nether regions.”

“Well, we should, because it’s been a while—I should know—and I’m calling my wax girl right now to get you an appointment.” Tatum whips out her phone and starts to swipe away but I snatch if from her before she has a chance to make said call to said wax girl.