Hungry for Love (33 page)

Chrissy had taken refuge in the one place where her life always made sense—Zero Tolerance.  Happily noting the collection of air purifiers placed in virtually every corner
,
prominently placed in fact
,
Chrissy was determined to work off all her aggravation and frustration.  Spinning.  It was her secret source of serenity.  Her legs pumped speedily and smoothly and she took several deep
,
cleansing breaths.  And then her eyes snapped open and her head started to pound again.  Her jaw clenched.

“
Dammit
,”
she said rather loudly
,
“
I still smell it.  Doesn
’
t reek any more but I smell it.
”
  She looked up quizzically to those around her who had suddenly turned to stare in her direction.  Instead of wondering why she was speaking out loud to no one
,
maybe they should have been wondering what to do about this invasion of odor.  She waved her arm toward the door as though that gesture made it all clear
,
but by then everyone had resumed working out and focusing only on themselves.

Gathering up her stuff without even showering
,
Chrissy was determined to deal with this smelly situation.  The gym had done their part.  There was nowhere left to install an additional air purifier.  Short of wearing an oxygen mask
,
Chrissy would have to confront this horrid deli and stop the intrusion into her sanctum of serenity.

She strode down the street with confidence and purpose—nobody could stop her now.  Except something did stop her
,
Bill and Laura
,
on one of their dates
,
inside the deli
,
laughing and smiling.  She could even hear their voices if she strained.

“
So we
’
re all set
,”
said Laura happily.  That smug bitch.

Bill smiled at Laura like she was the only woman on earth.  When had he last smiled at Chrissy that way
?
  Even his lovemaking had grown sluggish. 
“
I can
’
t wait for the weekend
,”
he said.

“
It
’
s gonna be fantastic in every way
,”
said the deli girl improbably. 
“
Food and fun.
”

Chrissy felt a dagger plunge deeply into her heart.  This was no treadmill injury—this was the real thing—piercing emotional pain.  She stood there
,
pressed against the side of the building to remain unseen
,
but twisting and squirming in agony
,
attempting to decide what steps she should take.  Should she maybe just stride in there
,
young
,
aglow and alive and confront Bill
?
  She wrapped her arms around her head
,
trying to squeeze an answer out of her brain.

But then there were Bill and Laura
,
calmly walking down the street away from the deli as though nothing at all were wrong.  Where was the guilt—that was what Chrissy wanted to know.  The man had no shame and she was hitching her wagon to his horse
?
  What had she been thinking
?
  But really it all made sense.  Look at the way he so cavalierly ate ice cream and sandwiches and virtually everything she couldn
’
t
,
right in front of her.  Look at the way
,
night after night
,
he came home with bags full of food.  Look at how every night he was either cooking or wanting to go out to eat.  The man was a
,
was a
,
what was the word for someone who cared about nothing but food
?
  Son of a bitch
,
that was the word.  No wonder he constantly refused to get her the Koush Koush
,
a drug she desperately needed.  Then she
’
d be thin and he
’
d be a big fat burger slurping cow.  Chrissy was seething and grew more livid the longer she pondered this betrayal. 

Gulping
,
Chrissy strode into the deli like a boxer about to climb into the ring and pulverize a long-time nemesis.  She glared at the deli girl with absolute hatred and rage.  Her words poured out in an unstoppable stream
,
“
We can smell this place inside the gym.  Nobody can work out because of you.  You
’
re going to have to keep the kitchen door and windows tightly shut.  It
’
s the only decent thing to do.
”

Angie examined the clearly hysterical girl in front of her
,
considering what reply would make most sense
,
but ultimately all she could do was just be honest and reasonable and hope that she
’
d calm down a little. 
“
It gets hot in there. I have assistants.  They need to breathe.
”

“
They
’
re kitchen workers
,”
said Chrissy
,
becoming more and more distraught
,
“
They
’
re used to the heat.
”
Then she burst into tears and cried with so much rage and force that Angie was afraid she
’
d bring on a stroke. 
“
My whole life is falling apart
,”
Chrissy bleated
,
“
I don
’
t need this shit now too.
”

“
Oh you poor thing
,”
said Angie sympathetically. 
“
Come and sit down and have a cookie.
”

Chrissy
’
s voice cracked and she croaked
,
“
A cookie!  A cookie
?
  What are you—Satan
?”

Angie had calmed Chrissy down a little and had got her seated at a table
,
drinking mineral water and eating an undressed salad.  As they shared a plate of colorful sorbets
,
Angie spoke calmly
,
“
It
’
s scary to think someone you love might be leaving you
,
but maybe it
’
s all in your imagination.  You gotta have faith sometimes.  There
’
s this doctor I
’
m in love with.  He
’
s taken but I know that
’
s ending.  He all but told me we
’
re gonna be together. I
’
m seeing him this weekend.
”

Chrissy gasped
,
leapt from the table
,
knocking over her chair
,
and ran out of the deli as Angie watched in surprise.

Ben felt that in a way it was a good thing his most deeply disturbed client called him before he was due to go on a date.  At least the hour he
’
d spend calming her down would help take his mind off the fact that he
’
d agreed to capitulate.   Clint had been right and his offer to set Ben up with a nice sweet girl made sense.  It was clear that to Angie he was completely invisible.  He
’
d loved her virtually all his life and she
’
d never even noticed.  To her he was a friend
,
and for all he knew
,
someone she considered a gay best friend
,
not the man she was meant to spend a lifetime loving.  It was tragic
,
but it would have been more tragic if he had lingered in limbo
,
loving Angie and drifting all alone toward what would ultimately become senility.  So he said yes
,
and this nice sweet girl was coming over and then they were going to dinner.  Clint was out
,
allowing Ben to have the place to himself.

But at the moment he was busy placating this client who
’
d initially come to him to work through some of her food issues and by now had sunk into paranoia so deep that Ben wondered would he have to refer her to a psychiatrist who could install her in a hospital on twenty-four hour watch.  She didn
’
t seem suicidal
,
although she sounded a little homicidal
,
but Ben was pretty sure it was mostly rhetoric.  He didn
’
t stop to question whether he in any way was to blame for someone who at the beginning of therapy had seemed normal
,
a bit addicted to sweets
,
but coherent
,
and now sounded like a raving lunatic.  Sometimes it took a while for the issues under the surface to emerge.

Chrissy was ranting
,
and this was the third time she had said the very same thing
,
her words punctuated with sniffles and deep sobs
,
“
Him and two other women.  And one is….
”
Here she took a big slobbering sob and continued
,
“
Younger.  And there
’
s…
”
and here her voice grew more enraged
,
more filled with disgust
,
as she gasped
,
“
Food play too.
”
  She stopped for a moment
,
just to sob
,
and then continued
,
“
A fucking orgy.
”
  Then from her mouth came several guttural sounds as though she were bringing up a hair ball
,
and she said
,
enraged
,
“
I
’
m going to get him.  I
’
d like to shove a Malomar in his mouth and tape it shut.  He
’
d love that though.  Not as though there isn
’
t one in his mouth every minute of the day.  Um Malomars I mean
,
not tape.
”