Diary of a Mad Fat Girl (7 page)

She glares at me and her porky face is blood
red.

“
What are you gonna do, Mrs.
Hilliard?” I ask with all the sarcasm I can muster. “Write me up
for drinking a beer and hanging out with my friends? I mean, while
drinking beer is considered a mortal sin by you fine upstanding
hypocrites over at the First Self-Righteous Church, people with a
good dose of common sense know that we’re not going to hell for it,
regardless of what your personal opinion is.”

“
I will get rid of you,” she says.
“That I promise. You
and
that
slutty little friend of yours.”

“
What?” I yell.

“
And I will have you know that my
grandchildren, my
grand
children were having dinner on the patio of
Pier 57 and heard
every
word
you said and you will
not
get
away with making fun of
me
in
public places. Especially in front of my
grand
children.”

“
If I’d known they were listening, I
would’ve given them a little shout out about overcoming childhood
obesity because, you know, gluttony
is
right up there with drunkenness as a big ol’
no-no according to the Bible,” I say and smile and she presses her
lips together and sucks a long breath of air through those pig
nostrils, “and I will start recording all of our conversations from
here on out
and
I’ll contact
the Mississippi Association of Educators and let them know all
about your big plans to fire me for personal reasons.”

“
You call whoever you want. It’s not
going to make any difference,” she says and leans toward me and I’m
afraid for a second that she’s going to bite me. “You are an
embarrassment to the teaching profession, Miss Jones.”

“
And you are a scab on the ass of
humanity, Mrs. Hilliard.” I smile at her.

“
Be in my office at lunch time,” she
says and stomps toward the door.

“
I’ll probably be on the phone with my
attorney during lunch.”

“
Really,” she says, spinning around to
face me, “I thought things didn’t work out very well for you and
your
attorney.
Terrible mess
from what I heard. You moving to Florida and thinking he was going
to marry you when he had another woman all along.
Tragic.
”
She turns around and
walks toward the door.

“
That’s not exactly right,” I stammer,
a little shell-shocked from the brutal honesty, “but what do you
care about what’s right? Self-service is your only
concern.”

“
Miss Jones,” she says as she reaches
for the doorknob, “have you ever heard the phrase
Quit while you’re behind?
You might
want to consider that.”

She jerks the door open and nearly bulldozes
Logan Hatter.

“
Excuse me, Mrs. Hilliard,” he says
politely and holds out his hand, “come on out.”

“
Out of my way, Hatter!” she shouts
and stomps past him, beige pumps bulging.

Coach Hatter comes in my classroom with wide
eyes and a questioning look.

“
I’m really startin’ not to like her,”
he says with boyish innocence. “I have never been anything but nice
and respectful to that woman and she talks to me like I stole
something out of her back yard.”

“
You’re guilty by association,
Hatter,” I tell him. “Find some friends that she likes and she will
certainly shower you with approval. Heck, you might even get to
knock off a piece.”

He makes a gagging sound and the bell rings
and I decide right then and there to take Friday off. I’ve had all
the fun I can stand for one week.

14

Thursday night, I hang out with Buster Loo,
eat left over pizza and a bag of potato chips for supper, and watch
everything I have recorded on the DVR.

It’s times like this, when I feel my life
starting to crumble, that I miss my parents the most. I would give
anything if I had somebody, hell, anybody here to tell me that it’s
okay, that I’m okay, and that everything it going to be just fine.
My Mamaw Essie was that person, but last summer I lost the luxury
of her presence here on Earth. I have no brothers or sisters, no
aunts or uncles or cousins. I’m the only child of only children and
that makes for an awful lonely existence sometimes. Especially when
the old metaphorical train jumps off the tracks.

My only family is my friends and thanks to
Lilly, I’m down one of those now. I’d like to think that Lilly
wouldn’t do me like it looks like she’s done me, but Drake Driskall
sitting half naked in her house is fairly hard evidence that she
has. And I know Lilly Lane well enough to know that she is, in
reality, an incredibly spoiled and self-centered soul.

This whole mess makes me feel sick.

I hate living in Bugtussle, Mississippi.
There are so many folks here that I can’t stand the sight of and
every time I leave the house, I see at least ten people that I want
to punch in the face. Lilly is always telling me that people are
basically the same no matter where you go, but I don’t buy into
that way of thinking. I’ve traveled around quite a bit and I’m
relatively certain that Bugtussle has a surplus of idiots and
assholes, most of which are pious fanatics who love to bash you
over the head with their religion. They have their socially
acceptable sins like gluttony, fornication, and adultery to which
they easily turn a blind eye to, but if you drink beer or happen to
be gay, then the wrath of the fat fornicators and judgmental
adulterers will descend upon you like fire from the pits of a
twisted hell.

These are the people that I want to punch in
the face. Repeatedly. And almost all of them go to church with
Catherine Hilliard over at the First Self-Righteous Church of
Bugtussle.

I’d like to pick up and move away from here,
but the problem is that I don’t have anywhere to go and that makes
me miss my family even worse than already I do. And as bad as I
hate to admit it, I miss Mason McKenzie more and more with each
passing day and even though I haven’t seen him in over three years,
his absence weighs on me like a Mack truck. In a way, it seems like
only a few hours have passed since I packed up all my stuff and
left him standing in the garage of his three story house. In
another way, it seems like an eternity has passed.

And the questions, they never go away. What
if I was wrong about him? What if he was telling me the truth? What
if he does love me? Could I be so lucky? Does he really want to
have babies and grow old with me? Did I walk away from my only
chance of ever being happy? Of ever being loved? Or ever having a
family again?

I look over at my phone. No one has called
or texted me all day long.

I pull Buster Loo up a little closer to me,
snuggle down into the sofa, and pray for sleep to come quickly.

15

Friday morning, Chloe calls and I gladly
accept her invitation to come over for a visit. After picking up a
nice bouquet, I head over to her place, nervous as a cat.

I get a dreadful feeling when I think about
seeing her face to face and end up driving past her house twice
before parking on the street and getting out. I have knots in my
stomach as I walk up the driveway and by the time I ring the door
bell, I feel like I’m going to hurl.

When she opens the door, she’s wearing a
scarf around her head and a pair of gigantic sunshades. Even with
bruises showing through her make-up, she still somehow manages to
look glamorous.

“
Well, hello, Ace,” she says sweetly,
but I can tell she’s nervous, “come on in.”

“
For you, my love,” I say dramatically
and present the flowers to her with such flourish that she starts
to giggle.

I take a seat in her lavish living room and
she goes into the kitchen and brings me a glass of ginger ale.

“
To help settle your tummy,” she says
with a half-hearted smile.

“
You know me too well, my friend,” I
say as she arranges the flowers in an expensive looking crystal
vase.

“
Well, it’s the least I can do for
someone nice enough to bring me such a lovely bouquet.”

I try to think of something to say, but
nothing comes to mind, so I just sit there looking like I’ve lapsed
into some kind of idiotic stupor. The doorbell rings just as I’m
starting to feel super awkward and I notice that Chloe doesn’t look
particularly surprised. She hops up and scurries into the foyer and
I hear her whispering with whoever is at the door. She returns to
the living room, followed by Lilly Lane and at that very moment, I
realize I’ve been ambushed.

“
I wanted to speak with both of you so
I hope it’s alright that I invited Lilly over,” Chloe says sweetly
and looks at me with those big round puppy dog eyes.

“
That’s fine, Chloe,” I say and give
Lilly the evil eye. “What’s on your mind?”

“
I’m pretty sure Richard is cheating
on me,” she begins slowly and I want to roll my eyes and snort, but
I don’t, “and I think it’s with more than one person and I think
it’s been going on for a while.” She holds up both hands like she’s
surrendering to something, “I know y’all have suspected such for a
long time, but I’m asking you to be patient with me as I try to
work my way through this.” She looks down at the floor. “I’m ready
to do something and I can’t do it without y’all, but it has to be
done on my terms.”

“
Okay,” we say in unison.

“
First of all, I want you guys to hug
and make up.”

“
What?!” I yell. “Chloe,
seriously?”

“
Very seriously,” she says, “I need
you both to help me and I won’t tell you what I found until you hug
Lilly and tell her y’all are friends again.”

“
Oh, good word,” I say and this time I
do roll my eyes.

“
Am I that bad, Ace?” Lilly snorts
like a real smart ass.

“
Don’t start with me,” I fire
back.

“
Please, y’all don’t do this,” Chloe
says, “or I promise I won’t give you the passwords to Richard’s
email accounts.”

That got my attention. “Where did you get
those?” I ask.

“
Hug Lilly and I’ll tell
you.”

Lilly gets up, smiling like the kid who
deserved the spanking but didn’t get it. I stand up and give her a
quick hug. At least Chloe didn’t ask me to help her out the bind
she’s screwed herself into. I guess Lilly warned her that I could
only go so far.

“
Lilly,” I say, drilling her with the
evil eye, “we are officially friends again, but only because I am
committed to helping Chloe do whatever she needs done.” I look at
Chloe. “Is that good enough? I hope so because it’s really all I
can manage right now.”

“
I guess,” Chloe says, smiling. “Now
let’s go to Richard’s office.”

I spend the next thirty minutes downloading
all kinds of names and addresses and phone numbers and emails from
Richard Stacks’ personal computer. The creep has six different
email accounts and Chloe found the user names and passwords written
on the bottom of his mouse pad. There is so much information and
it’s so random that it’s impossible to link one woman to one phone
number or physical address, but knowing their names and having
their email addresses is a good starting point.

“
I’m going to take this list and cross
reference it with the little black book he keeps in his briefcase
and try to put some names together with a phone number or an
address or, if I’m lucky, both.”

“
He doesn’t keep his brief case
locked?” Lilly asks.

“
No,” she says, “I guess he thinks I’m
too dumb and/or scared to pilfer through his things, but I’m here
to tell you girls,” she gets a faraway look in her eye, “those days
are over.”

“
Hell, yeah!” I say and give her a
very gentle hug.

“
Chloe,” Lilly says, “we will do
anything and everything we can.”

“
I know,” Chloe peeps, “and I know
y’all love me enough to do this together.” She goes to the closet
and brings out a box. “Here, use this. It’s a $1400 camera that I
got for Christmas and I’ve never used it so y’all will have to
figure it out,” she hands it to me. “Get me some proof. I know
y’all are seasoned stalkers.”

“
That we are,” I say, nodding my head
in agreement, “that we are.”

“
Okay, so do what you can with what
you have there and I’ll email you the list of addresses in a day or
two.”

Before either of us have time to respond,
the doorbell rings and this time, Chloe looks surprised and becomes
visibly nervous. So nervous, in fact, that she starts to shake.

“
What is it, Chloe?” I ask. “Do you
want me to get the door?”

“
No,” she says, “I’ll get it. Just go
through there and wait in the sun room if you don’t
mind.”

Lilly and I hustle into the sun room like
scalded dogs. After what seems like an eternity, Chloe comes back,
smiling.

“
It’s Brother Berkin,” she says,
looking more than a little embarrassed, “sorry about
that.”

“
Not a problem,” I say.

“
No problem at all,” Lilly chimes
in.

“
Okay,” she whispers, “do we have a
plan?”