Woman of Substance (14 page)

“I can tell,” he said.

She blushed. “Sorry, I should have had a shower. You’re company.”

“No. I just meant that you’re enjoying your food.” He bit through the layers of cheese, meat, and tangy tomato sauce.

She lifted her glass. “A toast to pizza,” she said.

He lifted his glass and smiled at Robbie and wondered at the coincidence that he’d arrived at her doorstep and she’d provided what he needed. “To pizza and serendipity.”

Her face was relaxed and her eyes mischievous as their glasses touched.

“Granddad mentioned that you knew Robin,” he said. “I’d like to get in touch with her.” He could use a friend right now. “You seem to know what I need. Are you a clairvoyant?” he asked.

“I did play with the Ouija board when I was young.” She seemed to like having him here in her kitchen. “Robin lives in the neighborhood. I might have her cell phone number.” She rushed on. “We chat when we see each other out and about. I’ll check after dinner or I can tell her to call you or Frank when I see her.”

“Thanks, I’d appreciate that,” he said.

“How’s your grandfather?” She needed to be casual. She wanted him to see her as empathetic as Robin, who shouldn’t be given all the credit for compassion.

She kept her knife and fork in her hands so she wouldn’t reach over and smooth the furrows from his forehead. “Want to talk about it?”

He was quiet while all of his concentration seemed to be focused on destroying the small pieces of hard-baked flour and water. “He’s old and he’s dying. If I had a father, I’d be looking forward to my father being a grandfather for my kids.”

She stopped her wine glass mid-point to her mouth and turned to face him. “You have children?”

He was piercing a soggy green pepper. “No. I’m speaking of the future. It should be my future right now. I should’ve brought a grandchild home for my grandfather. He was the best father a kid could have.”

Robbie sipped her wine. “Why haven’t you married, had kids?”

“Short answer, time,” he said.

She leaned her elbows on the table and turned toward him. “Long answer?”

“Family didn’t seem that important. I was an only child and friends were important while I focused on my career. I didn’t think about my grandparents. I thought about them but I just didn’t consider their age. My mother was dead before I knew her, my biological father was never in the picture, so I guess I only thought about myself.” His shoulders straightened against the back of the chair, his chin tipped upward.

“So you were seduced by fame and adventure. That’s not all bad.” She watched him over her glass.

He shifted in his chair so he looked directly at her. “You’re laughing at me.”

She shrugged and bit her lip. “No, I’m not. This is a tough time and the decisions of the past sometimes don’t feel great. But they were right when you made them.”

She tugged the neck of her sweatshirt, attempting to allow cool air to flow onto to her skin. She exaggerated a sniff at her underarms. “Sorry, I’m earthy right now.”

He tipped the last of his wine into his mouth. “Do you run often? You were out running last night, too.”

While she gathered up the plates and refrigerated the leftover pizza, she said, “Whenever I can. My dad says I was born running.”

Jake brought the wine glasses to the counter. “I run, too. Are there trails you’d recommend?”

“The city provides a great map. I’ll find it before you leave or you could just go on the website.”

He held up the bottle of wine. “Should we finish this?”

“Sure. Let’s finish it in the living room. The fire’s probably burned down.” Not that she needed heat. In fact, she wanted to take off her sweatshirt but underneath was only a black sports bra. The hot flash must be a reaction to the wine or it could be exhaustion. It wouldn’t be his long fingers cradling his wine glass. She flexed her toes in her runners recalling the time he knelt before her and slipped her loafers onto her feet.

She followed him and focused on the back of his head while he led the way into the living room. He placed his glass on the table next to the solitary chair and her glass next to the sofa.

“Should I put more logs in the fire?” he asked.

She felt the chill of separation. “Be my guest.” His sweater stretched across his back when he reached and placed logs in the grate.

Jake deliberately chose the chair. He needed a safe distance from her. He felt an intrinsic comfort with her. Even though his brain comprehended, his feet betrayed him when his toes strayed away from the heat of the fireplace and toward her. He shifted his legs and concentrated on the stem of the glass. “Maybe we can run together when I have more time and you’re no longer a student, perhaps after Christmas.” What was wrong with him? He should be saying
Run with me
tomorrow. Running wasn’t a date.

When he saw Robbie’s feet curled under her, appearing relaxed, he realized he would have liked her to curl up on his lap. He crossed his legs at his ankles and swallowed the last bit of wine. She was a master’s student and he was faculty. His position was precarious until the funding matter was resolved and he was cleared. He couldn’t take any chances for himself or Robbie. He wouldn’t let anything happen. He had more control and he would use it.

Chapter 11

Robbie watched Jake’s feet shift closer to the fire, further away from her. Everything about his body indicated that he created distance between them. Did she send off vibrations that she wanted to hug him and soothe away his worries? The other night, she was only being empathetic when she invited him home and she wanted to know what happened to Frank, didn’t she? There wasn’t anything between her and Jake, right?

She watched Jake move another inch away and acknowledged that lies and deceit have to create distance. If she could bring herself to be truthful with him about who she really was, then she could truly be a friend. But her research wasn’t just about her and this man who was in her home. It was also about the women who’d taken the time to answer her survey, the costume designer, Margaret and her love of clothes, Sharon and her fight for a promotion, Mavis and her need for a mortgage to buy her own bakery.

Robbie reminded herself that this was the same guy who had offered her cab fare when he thought she had taken advantage of an old man in the park and then was paying her good money to sit with his grandfather. This was also the same guy who was cared for and loved by a woman of size. Her relationship with him wasn’t personal. He was her research project because he was close to Frank. She couldn’t reveal anything. She was too close to her pass, her degree, her goal, her future.

She swallowed to calm her truths surging along her jangled nerves and cleared the word barricade at the back of her throat. “How’s your grandfather tonight?” she asked. The mention of his grandfather reminded her of the limited time she and Jake had with Frank by name and frank by nature. The logs crackled in the fireplace and the disc player changed to the next album. Diana Krall sang Christmas songs in the background. When Jake didn’t respond, she added, “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

His lips remained closed. A loud pop from a log seemed to open something in him and he started talking. “When I first returned home, I thought I could convince him to have treatments for his cancer. But he’d made up his mind. He’s ready to leave and be with the love of his life. He doesn’t want to be kept alive after his spirit is gone. I’m the only one he can count on to make sure death happens as he wishes.” He ran his fingers over his five o’clock shadow. “I’m not sure I have the strength to let him go. I’ve wasted so many years by not being around for him.”

She wished she knew whether she should invite Jake to sit beside her or if she should move over to his chair. What would happen if she moved to the floor and leaned against his legs? Would he feel the comfort of a friend, place his hand on her head, and talk without her having to ask questions? Or would he continue to stare into the fire? Perhaps talking about good times would make him feel better. “Did you and your grandparents have a good life together?” Jake stared at her for a long moment and then turned to stare back into the fire. “They loved each other and everyone around them. They gave people the benefit of their doubt. I was their gift, they said. Late in their lives when their friends were grandparents they were parents again after my mother died. I was surrounded by an abundance of everything. They saved her life insurance for me and I had the privilege of attending any university that I wanted. I chose to be away.”

Robbie watched him, waiting for an opportune time to speak. She ached to join him but she didn’t have the right. She was using Frank and Jake as part of her field research, trying to understand the life of a woman of size as a wife and mother.

A small smile flickered across his lips. “I never thought of my life as abundant before.”

“What was your life like with a grandmother who was older than your friend’s mothers?”

“It was tough. The kids used to call her old big butt. I fought in the playground and on the way home. Then my grandparents made me promise not to fight.”

She could imagine a tousled blond-haired boy, feet apart, fists swinging. “Did you keep that promise?”

“Most of the time I did. I read a lot. I graduated early. Left home for Ottawa and didn’t come back much. I offered them airplane tickets but they wouldn’t come to visit me.”

Robbie knew many reasons why they might not have traveled on a plane. Besides a fear of flying, she’d also read case studies and heard about the discrimination toward large people by the airlines, sometimes humiliating them, forcing them to buy an extra seat. “Did you ever ask them why they wouldn’t visit?”

He made a tent out of his fingers. “No. I assumed they didn’t come because they were old. I was busy studying, being successful, and time just moved so quickly. But lately, I’ve come to understand that Grandma missed me. I was her connection to her daughter, I see that now.”

“Studying and being successful isn’t always bad.”

“Yes, it is, if you don’t share it with the people who love you,” he said.

“I suppose you’re right.” She felt inexperienced in sorting through these deep feelings of grief. “My grandparents were independent until they passed on, and my parents are alive. My life is easy compared to your experiences.”

“It’s all part of life. I’m glad that I’m here now.” He drained his glass.

Robbie thought about the feelings the women in her research group expressed about loss of dreams, loss of relationships, opportunities, and their descriptions of anger, bewilderment, and bargaining seemed similar to this grief. All that happened to her was being accused of having no idea of how being fat feels. Were losses of dreams and the loss of life similar? How would she feel if her degree was denied? Jake hadn’t asked her what her thesis was about. Of course he hadn’t. He’s living his grief, while she only researched it and empathized with others’ disappointments and humiliations. Her experiences were miniscule by comparison. And while she’d experienced some pain while wearing her disguise, it was just that, not real life. Was this experiment callous selfishness when compared to losing someone you love? At least listening to him and not judging him might give him some consolation for a short while. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Marry me?” he asked her abruptly.

Her heart slammed against her ribs like a basketball against a backboard. “What?”

“Sorry, I’m brainstorming out loud. Granddad would like to see me married before he dies. The doctor says he won’t live until Christmas.”

Was he serious? Robbie glanced toward the fireplace mantle, where the photographs of Robbie in her disguise were tipped out of sight. Did his lips just quiver or was it the firelight reflecting on his skin? If he was asking anyone to marry him, it should be Robin. She had spent more time with both him and Frank, even though accumulated hours of being with someone wasn’t a reason to marry, but Robin did remind Frank of the love of his life.

Robbie took a deep breath. “From the little you’ve told me about their love, he wouldn’t want you to marry anyone just to make him happy.”

“I know. I was searching for a quick solution.” His face was red. “I’m sorry. Besides, you’re just starting on your career and then there’s Brad.”

She could be truthful about her relationship with Brad but she couldn’t break Brad’s confidence. She didn’t want another deception between her and Jake. “Brad and I have been friends for a long time, but we don’t love each other that way.”

“Grandma always said that the best marriages were between friends.”

“My parents put forward that theory as well. But believe me, Brad and I will only be friends.”

He rose and approached the sofa. “It’s time I went back to the hotel.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “Stay where you are. I can let myself out.”

She jumped as if someone had given her an electric charge. “I’ll get your coat.”

In the hall, she reached into the closet and grabbed his coat, sending the hanger ricocheting against the wall when she snapped the door closed.

Jake raised an eyebrow. “Do you have a body in there or something?” As he reached for his coat, their fingers brushed, sending a sliver of heat through her body.

“Or something.”

Without thinking, she placed her hand on his, ignoring the increasing warmth flowing through her and settling in places ignored for too long. “I don’t know what to say, except I’m here if you need me.”

Her eyes widened when she felt him raise her hand to his lips. She swayed toward him while her core flowed with slip-sliding anticipation. His brown eyes held hers while he kissed her fingers. “Thank you. Your eyes are an unusual ratio of green and hazel.”

She leaned away from him, even though every skin cell on her body rose like goose flesh, reaching toward his touch.

“One pair of genes didn’t win. My father tells me that’s why I can be determined.”

“Determination is a fine quality when you begin a career. What’s your major?”

“Human resources.”

“In anthropology, human resources are the key to many communities. We’ll talk about that some day.”

“Okay.”

After she closed the door, Robbie leaned against the cool metal and slid down to the floor with the weight of wanting more of him than he could give when his life was in chaos and she had the little problem of her other persona.

“Enough.” She stood and marched herself to her computer chair. Experimenting with a new identity added more depth to her conclusions than she would have imagined. When she was being Robin around Jake, he seemed more relaxed, a genuine friendship was being nurtured. She hoped that it was because his internal borders were down and he didn’t need to keep up the professor-student relationship, or perhaps because he associated Robin with a maternal love that had loved him unconditionally and it was easier to be friends.

She stared at the empty space where her final thesis copy used to be. She had dropped it into the office bright and early before many students and professors were roaming the halls. Nadine had date stamped it and carried it through to Professor Clinton’s office. Now all she had to do was wait.

The next morning, Robbie posed in front of her magnifying mirror and inserted her brown contacts. When she brushed on a plum eyeshade, she thought,
Robin, you have style.

Before her next field trip, grocery shopping, she wanted to relax and enjoy a few minutes to herself. So half an hour later she stepped up to the counter at her local Tim Horton’s. Her favorite server was behind the counter. She opened her purse. “Morning, Ryan, I’d like my usual, please.”

When Ryan didn’t move and tugged at his earring, a clear indication that he was stressed, she shrugged her shoulder. “Large coffee with double, double, please.”

When her neighborhood server didn’t recognize her, she knew the ancient art of illusion was working. She should be proud of her accomplishment rather than allowing Clifton’s subjective and nonacademic research remarks battle for room in her brain. She shivered and understood the old saying that someone had just walked over her grave. It was lonely knowing that
she
could disappear so completely.

“Coming right up,” Ryan said.

From a chair along the side, Robbie scanned the other clientele.

A little boy pulled at his mother’s leg. “Mommy, look at the fat lady!”

The mother in her dress slacks and high-heeled boots and long coat, bent and looked to where the boy was pointing. She smiled at Robbie and then spoke to the boy. “Yes, Owen, and over there is a tall man and over there a senior and right here”—she poked him in the tummy—“is a little boy.”

Robbie saluted the young mother and waved at the boy when they left the coffee house.

Robbie buttoned her coat and put on her mittens before she opened the coffee house doors. The parking lot was the only thing that separated her from her field trip to the grocery store. She watched a woman bend into the wind. She could easily wear a size zero. Robbie had an urge to catch up to this woman with red-tinged hair that sat on top of her head like a scrub pad and ask if she was ill. But her petite size could have to do with genetics, or stress, which she knew could affect the human body in many different ways.

Half an hour or so after, Robbie wound through the grocery store aisles, noticing the Christmas-themed plastic storage containers for cookies or cupcakes. Christmas was right around the corner. She hummed along to carols playing on the store’s communication system. She continued to shop, ignoring the fruitcake display, which tempted her. Ever since she tasted Mavis’s recipe, she’d acquired a taste for the dried-fruit studded Christmas tradition.

She approached the checkout cashier with her normal weekly fare, as well as sales specials that she usually shared with her parents. The clerk, a thin young blonde with an asymmetric hairstyle, scanned the groceries. “Did you find everything you needed?”

“Yes, thanks,” Robbie said.

The third box of barbeque potato chips caught the young woman’s attention. She stared openly at Robbie’s bulky body with a look that seemed to say,
No wonder you’re fat
.

Robbie’s face burned. “They’re for my parents,” Robbie said quickly and wiped her moist hands on her coat. She knew they weren’t on any food guide for healthy eating but she and her parents enjoyed them every once in a while. The clerk seemed to want to bag the boxes without touching them. “Good call. Have you read the fat content on these?” She swiveled, causing her tight little top to rise, and flashed a tiny navel piercing. The jewel seemed to wink at Robbie under the hard fluorescent lights.

“Sometimes we all need a little fat,” Robbie replied.

“Not for me, ever,” the clerk said while the total of Robbie’s purchases flashed on the cash register.

Robbie swiped her debit card and waited for the receipt.

“Good luck with that no fat thing,” Robbie called back to the clerk while steering her cart toward the exit.

Darn, Robbie thought ramming her cart through the snow. She’d fallen into the trap of justifying her potato chip purchase. The clerk had turned into the food police and she’d crumbled. Would she have done that if she weren’t dressed as Robin? No, she realized glumly. She’d failed her walk in the mile of someone else’s sensible shoes.

Shoes. She remembered how gently Jake had placed her shoes on her feet, like Prince Charming to Cinderella. But dressed as Robin, she was no Cinderella. How did he learn to look past the weight?

She pictured Jake as a little blond-haired boy holding onto his grandmother’s hand and hearing and seeing insidious incidents day in and day out. That had to have made an impact on such a young mind. How many women lived through humiliations like this every day? Maybe if there were enough men like Frank and Jake, the prejudices would cease to exist. Until then, she hoped they had a safe place to be themselves with people who loved them.