Conversations With the Fat Girl (34 page)

are going off and little eruptions of joy detonate from random craps

tables throughout the casino. Gwen methodically walks behind me, never

attempting to catch up.

I push open the bathroom door and walk through to an open stall. I

quietly go to the bathroom. I come up to the sinks first and begin

washing my hands. Gwen flushes and approaches the sink, straightening

her waistband.

"So dinner and then this bar?" I talk to Gwen through the mirror like

she's a hairstylist cutting my hair.

"Sounds great," Gwen says.

I look down at my hands and wash them as if my life depended on it.

"Thanks for planning this whole high tea thing. It was charming," Gwen says.

"You're welcome. I hope Olivia liked it," I say, wondering why Gwen is

thanking me.

"I feel bad that we were so late. We just got caught up, you know?" Gwen

pulls out some paper towels.

"Caught up?" I ask.

276 270Liza Palmer

"You know, with the makeup and then with the whole spa day" Gwen is

rummaging through her purse and finds a tube of

lipstick.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." You fucking bitch. I want to throttle this

woman. But it's not Gwen's fault. I should be getting angry with Olivia.

"I know we missed your martini thing, but the tea really was darling,"

Gwen adds.

"No problem. We should be getting back," I bite out. "Wouldn't want to

be late again." Gwen pats my shoulder.

277

It is a Big Hat, Kate

W ho is the person that these women have come to know? What anecdotes

does Olivia tell as she sits with friends? When she gets upset about

something, does she make up a history to show that this has happened

before? Or is this the same fantasy she and I used to play out driving

around in that Chevy Chevette all those years ago? Except now, instead

of fantasizing about our future-she looks back and creates her perfect

history out of whole cloth. A history that doesn't include gastric

bypass surgeries and crushes on starting quarterbacks who knew you only

as Orca. When we were little girls, we'd invent scenarios where perfect

men toasted us with perfect flutes of champagne. But most girls begin to

see these fantasies as silly and unrealistic when they get older. Where

does that leave Olivia? Is she still a little girl locked in her pink

room playing with Barbies, unable to come out and play in the real

world? And, if so where does that leave me?

278 272Liza Palmer

We plan to meet at Prime at seven thirty and then move to the Ghostbar

in The Palms resort hotel. Gwen has put our names on the VIP list and

assures us it will be a great time.

I have two and a half hours to think about Gwen and Olivia shopping,

giggling, sitting in baths of rose petals, waving off our martini date

and the bridal shower, while they run around trying on tiny clothing and

changing in the same dressing room showing off their equally tiny

bodies. The only part that gives me some sense of satisfaction is

knowing that Olivia felt threatened enough by Shawna Moss and her Gossip

Brigade to lie about her past. Olivia has not only never had a

boyfriend-she wouldn't know "The One" if it bit her on the ass. And

biting her on the ass is certainly not something I imagine the good Dr.

Adam Farrell would be up for. I feel a sense of power and don't even

care if it's a slippery slope. Olivia lied to Shawna. Who else has she

lied to?

Dinner at Prime is amazing. The food is fresh and cooked perfectly. I've

decided to wear something a little flashy: a low-cut chiffon tank top

with a vintage brown corduroy coat paired with black pants and a pair of

1940s-style heels. Both items fit better than they did when I tried them

on at the department store. With my heels on, I stand a head taller than

any woman in our party I put my long brown hair in two braids that

extend down my back. I brought a cowboy hat for later. A real Stetson. I

bought it one year as a New Year's resolution, but I've never really

worn it out in public. It seemed like too much, somehow. And yet

something about that hat makes me confident. Maybe it's the height. I

don't know But whatever it does for me, I need it now more than ever for

the Ghostbar outing.

After dinner, we stand in the queue waiting for the next cab. Gwen is at

the front of the group with Panchali. They are commiserating on how many

cabs we will need. They keep looking

279 Conversations with the Fat Girl273

back at Kate and me. Shawna is reapplying her lipstick as Hannah tries

to put in her two cents. Olivia, Kate, and I stand at the back of the

group. Olivia is getting more and more drunk as the night proceeds. I

begin to question why I don't join her. It would be so much easier if I

was just flat-out drunk through all of this. Gwen summons us to the cab.

Olivia stumbles over to her, giggling something about "Prime Meat." This

has been a constant joke of the night. Gwen puts Olivia in the cab and

shoves Panchali in next to her. She waves us to the cab behind them as

she shuts the door behind her. The three of them drive off. Kate,

Hannah, Shawna, and I pile into the SUV cab that approaches. I feel like

we've just boarded the short bus on our way to the "special school."

Olivia, Gwen, and Panchali are waiting in front of The Palms. It was a

long drive, and the cab ride was not cheap. This weekend is getting more

and more expensive. I'm cutting into next month's budget. I decide I

won't drink tonight as much as I ache for oblivion. We walk through the

hotel lobby, and the familiar bells and whistles of a Las Vegas casino

ring out. Hannah finds the elevator and presses the button repeatedly as

we wait for its instant arrival. I'm the last in the elevator. I am

holding my cowboy hat in my hands. I'll put it on once I enter the bar.

I'll need the confidence then. I look to Kate. She is drunker than she

was this afternoon. I begin to envy her. She has the right idea.

Survival, not temperance. The elevator doors open, and we're hit with

the silver-blue haze of the Ghostbar.

Even with my experience in Los Angeles bars, the people here are

unnervingly good-looking. My cowboy hat seems silly now I hold it

tighter as we ease into the crowd. Kate has her hand on my back, and we

both eye the same empty table. Gwen makes a beeline to the bar. She is

magnetic. Everyone watches as she passes. I see at least one man follow

her to the bar and ask

280 274Liza Palmer

if he can buy her a drink. Kate and I sit and wait for the cocktail

waitress to get to us. Panchali, Shawna, and Hannah follow our lead and

start pulling chairs over.

"Where's Gwen?" Olivia slurs.

"At the bar," Panchali answers.

"Do you want something?" Shawna asks.

"I don't think she needs another drink," Hannah says. "Ifs her party,"

Shawna snaps.

"I'm just saying she seems a little-" Hannah stops and mouths drunk.

"Let her live it up a little," Shawna whispers back.

"Where's Gwen?" Olivia is teetering but not sitting. "She's at the bar,

Olivia," I say in my strongest voice. "At the bar? Go get her," she says.

"Go get her?" I say

"Go get her." Olivia points.

"She's coming over here, I'm not going to go get her." I feel like I'm

speaking to a toddler in a toy store.

"Where do I sit?" Olivia focuses back on the table.

"Pull up a chair," Kate yells over the music.

"What?" Olivia asks.

"Pull up a chair and sit down." Kate is the perennial troop leader.

Olivia stands, gazing around at the empty chairs. One hand is on her

chest; in the other, she holds her purse like an old Victorian woman.

"Oh, for God's sake," Hannah says, dragging a chair over from an

adjacent table.

"Get one for Gwen." Olivia points at Hannah.

"What?" Hannah asks.

"Get another chair for Gwen." Olivia is hooking her purse

281

over the arm of her chair and staring at the bar in search of her

beloved Gwen.

Hannah doesn't say anything. She quietly gets up and asks a group of

people a few tables over if an empty chair is taken. The crowd says it

is. Hannah goes to three more tables until she finally finds an unused

chair that has been vacated by a now fully enthralled couple. She drags

the chair back over to our table and sits. She checks her watch and

stares at the bar. I feel dirty. I should have gotten the chair. No, I

should have told Olivia to fuck off about innumerable things this

evening, Gwen's chair being the least of my problems. But I didn't. I

just sat there.

"I need a drink," Kate says.

"Get me one," Olivia blurts.

"Get it yourself." Kate walks away

"What's her problem?" Olivia turns to me.

I get up and walk to the bar with Kate, the cowboy hat hot in my hands.

Kate is at the bar trying to get the bartender's attention. Gwen stands

next to her where two of her drinks are congregating. She seems to be

waiting for more.

"You okay?" I yell over the music.

"I've had enough. Barking orders. Dragging chairs. This is ridiculous."

Kate waves the bartender down.

"I know. I know," I say

"Do you need something?" Gwen turns to me.

"No, we're fine," Kate interrupts.

"More room, maybe?" Gwen balances the new third drink with the other

two, smirks at Kate and me, and walks toward the table.

"That's it. That's just . . . that's enough." Kate turns and follows Gwen.

282 276Liza Palmer

Gwen is angling for the chair with my purse over the arm; the chair

Hannah worked so hard to get is sitting vacant. She is staring at it.

"What did you just say to her?" Kate says, turning Gwen around with the

anger in her voice.

"I'm sorry?" Gwen is setting drinks down for Panchali and Olivia. Olivia

swirls her tongue around until she finds the little red straw and sips.

"What did you say to her? At the bar? You said something and I am asking

you to repeat it," Kate demands.

"I didn't say anything to you," Gwen specifies as she sits and crosses

her legs. Kate is standing over her. The table of people who refused

Hannah's chair request are now staring. At her full height, Kate stands

about five feet tall. Now she has her hands on her hips and looks a bit

like Tinkerbell.

"What?" Kate is flustered.

"I was asking Ms. Maggie if she needed more room at the bar. You know,

with that hat and all." Gwen cradles her martini glass and looks at

Panchali. Panchali sniffs. Shawna is now looking so feverishly in her

purse for something that she has caused most of the contents to spill on

the floor. Hannah stares at the vacant chair as Olivia looks on and sips.

"The hat?" I ask.

"You know, it is a big hat. You'll probably need extra room for it. You

need to factor that in," Gwen says, smirking. I stare at her. Kate is

still in the same position: hands on her hips, face crimson red, and

standing over Gwen. I quickly glance at Olivia. Is she watching? Is she

seeing this? The bride is sipping her drink and looking into the ice cubes.

"I just never put it on. I shouldn't have brought it," I say, looking

from face to face to face. Everyone is staring at me. They know she's

not talking about the fucking hat. Is this where she

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passes me the gordita's soda? How much weight do you fucking have to

lose before you're no longer considered overweight? Should I even bother

with Gabriel and five cardios a week? Or has Gwen just zeroed in on

every woman's Achilles' heel? How can Olivia not say something? How can

I fucking not say something? I shouldn't have brought it-what kind of

goddamn comeback is that?

"Probably not." Gwen sips.

Kate looks Olivia straight in the face. "You're going to sit there and

not say anything?" Kate yells. I swear she is going to rip the straw

right out of Olivia's overly made-up mouth.

"Hm?" Olivia looks up at Kate.

"Hm? Did you just say hm?" Kate is now openly spitting.

"Look, I think we've all kind of gotten a little tipsy and . . . Shawna

finally comes up from her purse. I am paralyzed. I am in control. I was

in control. There were going to be no surprises this weekend. This