Hungry for Love (27 page)

With evangelical fervor
,
Chrissy continued
,
pacing
,
stopping
,
glaring
,
and gazing into eyes that began to mist over
,
eyes that held an occasional tear
,
or a newly felt rage. 
“
Do you want to look like beached whales for the rest of your lives
?”
  Chrissy snapped her fingers toward the fattest person in the circle and continued
,
“
You think you
’
ll get love that way
?
  You think you
’
ll get
sex
that way
?”
  She made a gesture of questionable taste then continued
,
marching with increased vigor and glaring even more deeply at her clients. 
“
Your husbands—and wives—are probably too scared to have sex with you.  Afraid you
’
ll roll over on them.  SPLAT!
”
  She clapped her hands together for emphasis.

Glenda and Jean rose at that moment and attempted to flee. 

Her supervisor coughed
,
then spoke up
,
“
Excuse me
,
Chrissy
,
could I see you for a minute
?
  Take a short break everyone
,
won
’
t you.  We have some great pamphlets right over there.
”
  Gently
,
Elise led Glenda and Jean back to their seats.

Chrissy
,
excited about her imminent promotion
,
followed Elise toward the back
,
where the offices were. In the background sh
e could hear the conversation.
Jean
,
grown foolishly bold without Chrissy there to keep her in line
,
said
,
“
This is worse than EST.
”

Lou
,
sounding less gruff and more tremulous
,
said
,
“
The army was kinder.
”

But so what.  Chrissy would whip them into shape in no time.  This was like a calling—she had been led here and now she would rock it.

The people in the sharing circle sat and watched the drama through the window into the back office.  Chrissy seemed to be shaking her fist at Elise. 

“
I hope she doesn
’
t kill her
,”
said Glenda. 
“
We
’
ll never get out alive otherwise.
”

Chrissy was enraged.  That moron Elise who was supposed to fawn all over her and offer a promotion was instead firing her.  This place was for losers. 
“
Yeah
,”
said Chrissy
,
“
Well I hope you gain fifty pounds and your implants burst!
”
 

She stormed out the door as Elise looked down quizzically at her b-cup.

Livid
,
Chrissy slammed an exercise duffel bag into the trunk then kicked the car a few times but it made her feel no better.  How was she going to do anything if the world was filled with morons
?
  Didn
’
t it seem lately that she met more and more morons
?
  They were taking over the planet.  She entered the car and slammed the door
,
speeding away
,
seething and thinking about morons.

Bill did what he often did after work.  When most other men were out for drinks with colleagues
,
dashing off for a quickie with a mistress
,
or even hastening home to a beloved wife
,
Bill meandered through the supermarket.  He could cook—after a fashion—well he could almost cook
,
that
’
s what he
’
d say if anyone asked.  He could read a package and he could probably follow a recipe
,
but he didn
’
t try that often.  He could cook hamburger and add sauce and make spaghetti.  He could add stuff to packaged salads.  He could grill
,
of course
,
because grilling was a man
’
s birthright
,
a result of having evolved from cave dwellers.  It wasn
’
t about cooking
,
however
,
it was about the meander
,
the stroll through the market
,
the aisles with all the boxes
,
the sense that here lay life and sustenance.  In the mornings he visited JoEllen and longed for the life they shared.  In the evenings he visited the market. 

He
’
d felt better about himself and about life in general since he began making breakfasts and dinners for the kids.  Yes
,
he had to deal with Chrissy
’
s intolerance of anything not in the category of lettuce
,
but all he had to do was speak sternly and she would back off.  That was odd
,
wasn
’
t it
?
  Did she seem different
?
  He wondered
,
but he seldom stopped long enough to ponder the question seriously.  He suspected there was much about Chrissy and her current odd behavior that he could unravel with a little prodding but it was his desire lately not to explore
,
not to question
,
just to drift.  It seemed so much less taxing.

Tonight he would grill some steaks.  Recently he discovered that you could grill vegetables such as peppers and even—amazingly—potatoes.  You couldn
’
t put potatoes on the grill raw—that was where he
’
d made his mistake before.  But if you microwaved them
,
let them cool a bit
,
and then sliced them
,
a little slather of oil and they could go on the grill with some thickly sliced onions and the whole meal was right there on the fire.

In his basket were the items for tonight
’
s grill and he thought
,
what if he added some other things
,
that was what a mixed grill was
,
wasn
’
t it
?
  But what to add
?
  Shrimp would be good but wouldn
’
t it fall through the grill
?
  As he pondered this
,
he bumped baskets with his neighbor
,
Sophie Gold.  He knew she was a regular visitor to his kitchen and he was grateful for all the goodies she constantly brought over for the kids because they needed that sense of security.

“
Dr. M!
”
she said excitedly
,
“
How are you
?
I haven
’
t seen you in a while.
”

He smiled at her with genuine appreciation. 
“
I can
’
t apologize enough
,”
he said. 
“
I
’
ve been meaning to knock on your door
,
bring you some wine or at least some ice cream.  You
’
ve been so wonderful to bring so many delicious goodies over.  Candy says she
’
s adopted you.
”

Mrs. G laughed
,
“
Well
,
we adopted each other.  And you know I love to cook.  Just don
’
t want Bert eating every bite I cook
,
wonky ticker.  Trying to keep the old man around a little longer.  Fifty years you know—in three months.
”

Bill sighed and looked at Mrs. G
,
“
Fifty years.  A whole lifetime.  That
’
s a lot of memories
,
wonderful memories for sure.  I expected….
”

Sophie patted Bill on the arm
,
“
I know you did
,
I know.  We all did.  Listen—why don
’
t you come over tonight and we
’
ll have dinner together instead of me slipping over to drop off stuff so Chrissy doesn
’
t starve those kids.
”
  She gulped
,
thought better of what she
’
d just said
,
not wanting to be too critical
,
then added
,
“
Though I know she
’
s been better lately.
”