I Want Candy (28 page)

Salt and pepper to spice it up

1/3 cup of paper stock – a 20-page legal contract

3 tbsp of unsalted butter, softened

1/2 tbsp of finely chopped “Get the hell out of my life and stay out!”

1/2 tbsp of minced feelings and regrets

1/2 small garlic clove to fight off the vampire urge to return and feast on your dead relationship.

* * *

Candy sighed as she slammed down her diary. “Thank God this is almost over. How foolish I was,” she said as she flipped through the last pages. She left her bedroom and looked at the clock in the kitchen as she poured herself a glass of wine – 2:13AM.

“I can’t believe I’ve been up this late.” She shook her head. Something was compelling her to finish the journal. Jogging back up the steps, she snuggled under the sheets, stroked her cat’s soft fur, and picked up the diary where she left off.

* * *

“Why are you callin’ me?” Candy asked as she wrapped herself in her burgundy terry cloth robe and put down the enormous slice of gooey, cherry pie on the kitchen island. The billow of whipped cream toppled over, covering the shiny silver fork.

“So because we’re divorced, I can’t call you?” Eric huffed as he walked swiftly down the loud, busy street, gripping his cell phone tightly.

“I know you want something. Every time you call me lately, you want something. Ever since I saw you in court, you’ve been asking for things. You even tried to get alimony. What is it now?” Candy asked as she licked her fingertips.

“I honestly was just callin’ to say ‘hi,’ but I do wish you’d stop talkin’ to my mother,” Eric added as he raced across the street to the work crew, placing his hard hat on.

“What? Eric, she’s the one callin’ me apologizin’ for her son’s pathetic behavior. She knows you lost a good one and…”

“Well, she’s
my
mother, and I don’t need you bad-mouthing me to her. Talk to your own mom!” he yelled.

“I do talk to my mother, but she travels a lot now that she no longer owns the beauty shop and has her new gig. Besides, your mother’s like a second mom to me. Just because I divorced
you
doesn’t mean I divorced
her
!” Candy hung up abruptly. Her nerves were once again riled. Quickly, she retrieved the ivory plate and placed a forkful of the warm pie in her mouth. The sweet, sticky, red deliciousness swirled in her mouth. She closed her eyes as she swallowed. Bit by bit, the entire serving was devoured. Reaching back into the refrigerator, she retrieved the rest of the pie. By midnight, the entire thing was gone, minus a few buttery crumbs. Candy rubbed her aching stomach as she slumbered on the couch. In and out of consciousness, she experienced bizarre dreams. One was of a lime-green kangaroo chasing her down a long, winding, black-and-white marble hallway. There was a baby in her pouch, but it wasn’t a joey. It was a tiny girl with a big, yellow bow in her curly hair. She had no eyes, but a tiny nose and large, full lips. Candy’s eyes flew open as the kangaroo cornered her.

“What kinda nonsense was that?” she asked herself, short of breath. Her body lay stiff under the thick quilt. On the television were back-to-back infomercials. She lazily rose and walked up the steps to her bedroom. She went into the bathroom and sat down on the toilet as she watched her cat nudge the door open. She laughed. “I can’t even take a shit without you comin’ around, huh?” She flushed the toilet, and out of the corner of her eye, noticed the scales shoved behind the golden Pier 1 trashcan. She hesitated then walked over. She stood on it, watching the digital numbers finally rest. She breathed heavily. Tears welled in her eyes until finally they coated her cheeks with understanding. She turned suddenly away and looked in the mirror. Opening her robe, she exposed her swollen, nude body. Her stomach jutted out. Her breasts, almost two times their normal size, reminded her of fake breasts, only hers were no longer perky. Rows of stretch marks went up the sides of her thighs and breasts, none due to pregnancy. She turned around, looking over her shoulder and shuddered as she viewed the newest dimples to populate her once-smooth derriere.

“Is this who I am?” she asked out loud. She suddenly felt sick to her stomach and rushed towards the toilet, vomiting the dessert she had just consumed. With her robe hanging half off her body and her hair tucked behind her ears, she shook, feeling like a shell of her once-vibrant self. “This can’t go on,” she uttered as she slumped over next to the toilet.

LOST-INSIDE-OF-YOURSELF FRIED RICE

3 green-eyed devils (envy of others that have what you believe you should have)

2 large egos (one for your inner self and one for the outer you)

1 tsp salt

Hot peppers (sliced thin)

4 tbsp of self-pity

4 cups of cooked self-destruction

1 tsp of self-doubt that will grow to the size of a mountain if you let it.

* * *

Candy read the last few pages of her diary. She closed the journal and looked aimlessly out her window. Thoughts swirled in her head like clouds of smoke. They were painful and coming so fast, she could not get out of her own way. She held herself tightly, sobbing deeply as the pain rushed through her body, taking her over from head to toe. The thoughts were coming like contractions giving birth to a hideous truth. She momentarily gained her composure and sat in the darkness of the cool, beautifully decorated bedroom. All she could hear was her cat’s purring and the wind ruffling leaves outside every so often. She opened her mouth and gasped.

“I’m ready to let this go,” she said as the pain continued to riddle her soul with pulsating accusations and realities. “I’m ready!” she yelled, causing Enchanted to leap off the bed. She cried heavily as she clenched her knees, cradling them close to her chest. Something – someone, was holding her. It was invisible, but there. The pureness of a divine rescue was in her midst. The room felt lighter, and her body seemed weightless. Her heartbeat slowed, the tears subsided, and a newness of love shone through the crevices of her emotional well being. A glow emanated from her spirit, causing laughter and release. The grimace that had covered her face in a scowl of self-hatred was replaced with freedom and joy. Years of torment were being dissolved. Her heart was not indeed irreparable.

“You’ve got work to do,” Candy whispered as she rose from the bed and opened her nightstand drawer. She looked at the cookies, chips, and candies stored within. Swiftly walking over to the trashcan, she discarded them all. The loud clunk they made as they hit the bottom gave her a sense of relief. For the first time in a long time, she felt hope.

SESAME GINGER TUNA KEBABS

1 lb. tuna fillet, cut into 16 cubes

16 mushrooms

16 cherry tomatoes

1/2 cup light Asian dressing

8 scallions, trimmed and cut into 2" pieces

The first of many delicious, fat-buster recipes to come!

* * *

CHAPTER 11

“So what does that have to do with you cancelling on me?” Gabriel asked as he grinned mischievously. “I’m on vacation. And besides, I’m an adult, and so are you. We can be friends outside the office.” Gabriel lifted his wine glass and looked at Candy with inquiring eyes. Candy squirmed in her chair. The restaurant was mysteriously dark, sweet cello music was playing, and the meal before her probably cost more than she made in one day.

“Look, Mr. Justice, I accepted your dinner invitation because – well, we’re friends, but then you asked about another outing for breakfast, and I said ‘yes,’ but…I know it’s inappropriate. I just don’t feel…comfortable,” Candy explained as she tried to ignore the glimmer in his eyes.

“How is having brunch with a friend a bad thing?” Gabriel asked, his left eyebrow raised in confusion.

“Because I don’t date people I work with.” Candy looked around the restaurant, feeling self-conscious. She rubbed her arms as if she were cold and bit her bottom lip. The recent loss of twenty-six pounds had done her a world of good, but she hardly noticed. Instead, she dove headfirst into her work and a new gym membership.

“I see,” Gabriel said before taking another sip of his wine. “We’ve been out several times, and now you’re finding objection. I find that, well, puzzling and slightly offensive. I mean, honestly, for years we’ve had lunch on and off, and you never said these things. So what if lunch is now brunch? Is it because I’m white?” he asked as he crossed his ankles.

Candy’s eyes widened. She looked around again nervously.

“Lower your voice!” she whispered. “No! Of course not.”

“OK. Well, now that I’ve shown interest in you as more than an employee and friend over the course of the last two months, why is it a problem?” Gabriel asked.

“As I said, Mr. Justice, I don’t date coworkers.” Candy grimaced.

“Then why is it that for the past two months you’ve been flirting back to me?” Candy’s body became hot all over. Embarrassment crept up her spine and claimed her as a laughing stock.

“Back the bus up!” Candy said before downing the rest of her wine to build up nerve. “I’m not aware of any flirting on my part or yours. I was going out with you because you said it would do me good,” Candy halfheartedly explained.

“You can’t get off the hook that easily. You know what’s been going on. I never put this meal or any recent one we’ve shared under the guise of business. I made it clear when we were out for business. I told you specifically what the meeting topic was. I haven’t said any such thing lately. I never said I wanted to discuss the budget with you. I asked you out to dinner, as I would any woman I was interested in. When you and your husband first split over a year ago, I was genuine in wanting to help you. I waited this entire year for you to get yourself emotionally together. For this entire year, your confidence has grown. You’re smiling again. Your work has even improved over your already excellent performance. You’re jovial and content. Enough of that though, let me cut to the chase. Ever since you began working for me, Candy, I’ve enjoyed you as a person. I honestly admit that I wasn’t in any way, shape, or form thinking of you romantically after you were hired. Besides, I was…”

“Married,” Candy finished his sentence.

“Yes, exactly. I’m a lot of things, but a cheater isn’t one of them. After my divorce, you were so kind to me, and I was truly surprised that you knew what was going on. I’m a private person as I’ve told you before, but I did need someone to talk to, someone objective. I’m a single father sharing custody with my ex-wife. My career’s both challenging and demanding as you know. I sometimes don’t have enough time in the day to even eat, yet I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t a hopeless romantic. I still believe in love, in romance, in dreams coming true. I’ve never dated a coworker or subordinate. I’ve never dated anyone I worked with, but for you, I’ll make an exception. I care about you, Candy. I’ve known you for years, and we’ve talked about everything under the sun. I really enjoy you.”