Conversations With the Fat Girl (14 page)

and he's not a stray I found on the side of the freeway, you know.?Kate

is walking into the girls' room. ?I know. So what did you do??I ask

quietly now in the presence of the girlies. ?What Mom saw was a work in

progress: the long hair, the loud music. He wasn't husband material . .

. at that time. But he had a good heart, and we adored each other. It

stops being about the loud music and it starts being about wanting not

to let go of what you now know is the best thing that's ever going to

happen in you. It has to start with you.?Kate calls to Emily and lets

her choose just one doll and one Matchbox car. She is satisfied and

proudly slings her backpack over her tiny wise shoulders.

114

Liza Palmer

?I wish I could bring Domenic anywhere, Jesus.? Bella begins to emerge

for her turn to choose. ?Are you guys talking about the Baby Jebus??she

asks. ?She calls Jesus, the Baby Jebus. Vincent and those Simpsons-he

thinks it's cute.?Kate shakes her head and opens Bella's backpack. Bella

chooses a diamond tiara and a hot pink feather boa. ?It's the Baby

Jesus, Bella. Mom, are we about ready to go?? Emily floats back into the

room. She has added a strand of carnival beads to the journey. Mom honks

out in front of Kate's house. The girlies rush out to greet her. Kate

and I follow behind. We all climb into Kate's minivan. The doors slam

behind us. The silence is deafening. ?I like a guy who buses tables at

Joe's and wants to be a sculptor,?I whisper. ?You like someone??Mom is

fiddling with her seat belt again and can't make out one word I'm

saying. My plan is working. Emily and Bella are quieter than they've

been in years. Kate adjusts the rearview mirror. I hear Bella whisper,

?What's a sculperr?? Emily shushes her, knowing that the grown-ups will

stop talking if they notice the little ones are on to them. ?His name is

Domenic and he works at Joe's.? ?Well, what's this Domenic's story??Mom

asks. ?He works at the coffeehouse and wants to be a sculptor.? Once

again, Bella whispers in the back to Emily, ?What's a sculperr??Emily

flounces in her chair in complete indignation. Bella whispers ?Gosh? and

begins combing her Molly doll's rat's nest of a head of hair. Emily

rolls her eyes. Kate lets out a laugh. ?What kind of sculptor??Kate

flips on her turn signal. ?It's the family business. They're actually

dollmakers. He works with his grandmother making the feet and hands in

porce-

115

109

lain. His mom sews the clothing. They're pretty famous. . . in the doll

world.? ?Well, it sounds like a good beginning,?Mom nudges. ?That sounds

fair.?I secretly fear that a good beginning is all any of my

relationships are. Bella whispers to Emily knowingly, ?Sculperrs make

dollies.? She leans proudly back in her kid seat, pointing at her Molly

doll. Emily sighs and flips open her diary I splurge a little and buy a

long brown leather skirt and a crisp white shirt. I also purchase what I

refer to as a ?tightener.? This is a magic undergarment that shoves your

entire body into a spandex casing and smooths out where there were once

rolls. I get a small. My thought process: If I buy a small, I will

become a small. When I finally writhe my way into the tightener, my

middle is now a ?small.?Even if in the end, I look like a slug caught in

a straw.

116

There's Always an Erin

I've been on so many diets, I've forgotten what eating without a

calculator and judge and jury in my head feels like. Whether for comfort

or out of boredom, I reach for food rather than a brisk walk or a long

hot bath. When I am not overeating, I ruthlessly deprive myself of food.

I've never looked at food as nourishment or fuel. Instead, I look at it

as a savior or a taboo. Maybe I'm feeding some other hunger. Getting

ready for Peregrine's party, I brush out my hair. I keep it down,

instead of going for my usual ponytail. I stand back and look. Nice

hair. Nice ?exotic?eyes. Must close the mouth so as not to unleash the

Chiclet teeth. The V-neck of the crisp white shirt draws the eye to the

cleavage. The leather skirt is oddly slimming. It is around ten o'clock

as I park outside the Pasadena Museum of California Art. Looking in the

rearview mirror, I try to pull myself together. I want to go home

already. Every second I'm here is just one second I'm not at home wit K

my dog in my black terry-cloth pants and gray men's tank top As I'm

getting out of my car, I notice Cole walking toward the museum, too.

117 Conversations with the Fat Girl 111

There is a large sign announcing that Peregrine's birthday party is on

the roof. Cole and I climb the stairs together. ?You two together??the

bouncer growls, stamping the back of Cole's hand to ensure there will be

alcohol consumption tonight. ?Hell no, brother.?Cole physically moves

away from me and huffs off. The bouncer stamps the back of my hand and

waves me through. Great start. The Pasadena Museum of California Art is

situated one block east of the Pasadena City Hall. As 1 walk into the

event, the number of people here strikes me. There must be close to free

hundred partiers on this roof-all in costume and all waiting for the

birthday girl to spend a little time with them. There is a DJ over in

the corner playing all-retro hits as people crowd the dance floor. There

are hot pink and black lanterns dotting the entire roof along with an

open bar complete with bartenders in Ronald Reagan masks. I make a

beeline for the bar. ?What will you have, young lady??ex-President

Reagan yells. I'm not that big a drinker, but I am a genetically thirsty

person. ?Can I have an Amaretto Sour??I try to make my voice sound high

and feminine. The bartender waddles off. I stare at the back of the bar.

I don't want to see Domenic yet. ?There you go, young lady.? I leave him

a two-dollar tip and begin to scan the room for a familiar face.

?Maggie!?I whip around to see Peregrine in a kid's party hat and an

early-1980s pale blue sateen prom dress, complete with tacky wrist

corsage. Her blue-black hair is up in a snazzy chignon updo with pale

blue carnations dotting her hair. Her makeup is all hot pinks and blue

eye shadow. ?Happy birthday!?I kiss her on the cheek and hand her the

card I made earlier in the day.

118

Liza Palmer

?Your boy is here. Brought some bitch named Erin or Errol. Should have

been named Acne. She's got issues with the complexee-own, if you catch

my drift. Inez is here. She's been dying to meet you!? Peregrine hugs

and air-kisses a group of people who have just arrived. I can't breathe.

He brought someone? Why would he bring someone? And her name is frigging

Errol? For once I want Peregrine to be right. She is still excitedly

talking. ?Your party bag is in the back room, there's a raffle later on

for a day shopping with me. Presents are being opened at midnight-oh,

and I got a male stripper to pop out of the cake, don't tell, okay Oh!

Here's your hat!?Domenic brought someone? That's it. I'm officially in

the pits of hell. The group of well-wishers is still huddled around

Peregrine. They tell her she looks fabulous, and she twirls for them.

I'm now feeling claustrophobic. This hat is trying to suffocate me.

Peregrine directs them to the bar and gives them a rundown of the

evening's activities. We then noisily begin chatting about the stripper

when Peregrine's girlfriend walks up. ?Inez, this is my

Maggie.?Peregrine downs her drink, smearing her hot pink lipstick. Inez

Dawson is a smallish woman with long, wavy black hair. She is dressed in

an exact replica of the dress Molly Ringwald wore to her prom in Pretty

in Pink. I know Peregrine made it for her to wear tonight-that's all

she's been talking about for the last three weeks. Well, that and

humming the theme song nonstop. Inez looks stunning. I notice only then

that Inez has a bit of a potbelly And it's not a little belly, either.

But it's sexy Peregrine can't stop staring at her. Shit, I can't stop

staring at her. What does Inez have that I don't? She got a belly I got

a belly She got a lover. I got a belly I take her hand and shake it, but

I get thrown off when Peregrine bunches us all up in a

119

113

group hug. I begin to panic realizing how liquored up Peregrine is.

Where is Domenic and how can I get out of this hell? This is not what I

meant by having fun with people. ?There, there, sport. Enough of that,

you crazy birthday girl.?Cole is the only one big enough to break up

Peregrine's ruckus. After being mistaken for his girlfriend, I'm

surprised Cole allows himself to touch me, let alone be seen in the same

room with me. ?Aw, Coley but this is my Maggie!?Peregrine wraps her arm

around me and snuggles tightly. She is greeted once more by a pack of

admirers. They say she looks fabulous. She twirls for them as well. Cole

continues. ?I know. I know. She just needs to put her purse down and

maybe get herself another drink so she can catch up.' Cole whisks me

away to a table in the corner of the museum's roof. Cole and I walk

silently over to the table. And then I see her. I now suspect

Peregrine's antics were a distraction technique. This is classic

Peregrine: the ultimate hostess. She must have wanted me to be in a

great mood when I saw the man I love and the girl he brought with him. I

turn back around and see Peregrine. She is fighting every urge to throw

herself between this girl and me. I make some kind of face that conveys

I will be fine, or at least that's what I hope I'm conveying. Peregrine

smiles and mouths that she's sorry Birthday guests engulf her once more.

I turn back around. The girl is pale and thin with thick brown hair. She

does have bad skin. Even drunk, Peregrine can nail down a flaw. Domenic

is speaking with Dre, the distractingly tall busboy and doesn't even

look up as we approach. ?Maggie, these are Christina's friends. This is

Erin,?Cole says. She looks up at me. Her eyes are flat. Nothing about me

registers with her. It's as though one look at my Area calms every

120 114 Liza Palmer woman down. I am no threat to her man. Erin doesn't

bother to smile or even extend a hand. I loathe her even more now. Cole

continues, ?And this is?? He stops at the next girl. She is alarmingly

beautiful in a Los Angeles Exotic Dancer kind of way. ?Cheyenne,?she

says, sipping her beer. Well, then?she was destined to be a stripper

from birth. Poor dear. ?Oh, yes. Cheyenne,?Cole slurs. I can't stop

myself from looking down at his crotch to see if he is becoming aroused.

Unfortunately, during my covert operations I am caught by the entire

table checking out Cole's package. Domenic is' staring right at me.

?Hey, there, partner, see anything you like??Cole has his hand on my

shoulder. He jokes with me like a couple of guys about to smack a high

five in celebration of Cheyene's ample breasts. I'd like to remind him

that according to the bouncer, I am his fat, possessive girlfriend. ?You

know I can't see anything.? I swing my purse off my shoulder and decide

to head back to the bar. The large table is alive with drunken

conversations and explosions of laughter. I leave the gaiety and march

back to the bar for another drink. Domenic has yet to say word one to

me. This, Peregrine, this is what I'm fucking afraid of. I return and

sit at the end of the table closest to Cole and farthest from Domenic.

Peregrine and Inez have their purses there. I figure I'll just wait

until they come sit down, and then I'll be able to look enticingly fun.

I pull the maraschino cherry from my drink and drop it into my mouth

?You clean up good,?Cole says. ?Don't try to be nice.?I drink my second

Amaretto Sour of the night. ?I'm not. I feel a little bad about

before.?I can smell Cole's breath.

121 Conversations with the Fat Girl 115 ?Good, you should.? ?That

rhymes,?Cole says, trying to smile. ?So does Fuck off.? I am beginning

to slur. ?No, it doesn't,?Cole says. ?Really? How about you do it

anyway,?I say ?Fine. Fine. Just let me apologize.?Cole slams his beer on

the table. The whole table turns toward Cole and me. ?Maggie??Domenic

says, leaning over Cole. ?Hey,?I mumble. I can barely look at him. ?I'm

glad you made it.?Why? So you could make sure I know you see me as just

a friend? Yeah, I got it. ?Do you get the one with the big ones??Cole

asks Domenic in a forced stage whisper. ?What??Domenic looks over to see

if any of Christina's friends heard what Cole said. They didn't. But

they might notice Cole miming a girl with huge breasts. ?She's a Stone

Cold Fox, D. Brown!?Cole high-fives me. ?I'm all aglow with pride,

Cole,? Domenic says and leans hack, rejoining the conversation with Dre,

the distractingly tall busboy. I begin to hatch a plan to maim Christina

and all who walk with her. I'm sure at some point I will remember this