Love for Scale (3 page)

She rubbed the card with her thumb. Suddenly she heard footsteps behind her. Not daring to turn and see who it was, she quickly dropped the card in the slot. Stepping away from the table, she glanced back to see Jacob, the arrogant Mercedes-driving doctor.

Rachel quickly turned away, avoiding awkward eye contact, and headed for the door.

Chapter 3

God, I wish I had my own place
, Rachel thought as she pulled up into the driveway of her parents’ house.

It was no surprise that Pearl was waiting up at the kitchen table, her steaming mug of hot water and lemon tucked neatly in her palm when Rachel arrived home. What was shocking was that her father was there also, a goofy look on his face; he wanted to know how it went but didn’t look like he was in for any of the gory details.

Rachel grabbed the leftover cheesecake out of the fridge and placed it on the table while she got plates and forks for herself and her parents. She cut three slices giving herself the biggest one; after an evening like that, she deserved some extra comfort in the form of turtle swirl cheesecake.

Once she was done handing out the slices, she took her seat and dug in.

“So?” Pearl raised her eyebrows, waiting.

“That sucked.” Rachel looked up from her cake and glared at her mother. It wasn’t totally true, it was still better than sitting at home watching
Schindler’s List
or
Yentl
(again—her mother had a thing for Mandy Patinkin) with her parents. She just thought it was necessary to put a negative spin on the evening so her parents wouldn’t get it in their heads to sign her up for another one of these events without her consent.

“Oh, Rachel.” Pearl shook her head, “How was the rabbi? Was he one of your speed daters?”

Rachel snorted. “Yeah, he talked about you the whole time.” She turned to her father, “Dad I think you might have some competition there.”

Pearl twittered. Rachel and Harry both stared at her, incredulous.

“He’s a nice boy, you could do worse!” Pearl shifted the focus from herself.

“Oh believe me, mother, you’ve got that right. I learned tonight I
could
do worse. A lot worse.” Rachel sighed as she finished the last bite of cheesecake. She got up and stacked her plate and fork in the sink. “Oh well, I’m off to bed. G’night.”

“Wait Rachel. You didn’t say if you met anyone nice?” Pearl obviously hadn’t gotten the hint that Rachel was done talking about her evening.

Rachel sighed, reluctant to rehash the evening. She felt a brief summary was in order. “There were a couple of decent guys, but you have to leave a card to say you picked them, and then the organizers tally it up. If someone you picked also picked you, then you get their e-mail or phone number. I won’t know until tomorrow or Tuesday.”

“Oh, so no one asked you out?” Pearl seemed to be missing the concept.

“No, not yet, Ma.”

“Maybe if you had more of a positive attitude,” Pearl clucked.

Rachel began her count to ten.

“Pearl, leave her alone.” Harry spoke for the first time. The women both looked at him. He stared directly at Pearl. “Rachel isn’t the one that wanted to sign up for this. You made her go, you made me pay for it, and she went. How can you ask for more than that?”

Rachel wanted to cheer. Her dad was a man of few words, but leave it to him to stick up for her. She looked at him and smiled. “Thanks, Dad.”

He nodded. “Go to bed, I’ll handle your mother.” He winked at Rachel.

Wide-eyed, Pearl had yet to speak. It wasn’t often that she had nothing to say, but Rachel took advantage of the rare occasion and slipped out of the kitchen.

She closed the door behind her and threw her purse onto her chair.

“What a disaster,” she said aloud.

She looked at herself in the big mirrored closet door. “Would
I
pick me?”

No, of course not. She thought of Finn, the chubby guy who had seemed interested in her. Sure, because she was in his league. But was that the only way she would ever get a guy? Because they were both big? What about her personality? What about her intelligence? Was she destined to end up with a guy who wasn’t into looks because he didn’t have them himself?

Was she any better?

Rachel realized she had been a total hypocrite when she had turned Finn down. Who was she to turn down someone based on his looks? He probably would have been a nice person if she’d given him a chance.

Rachel fought tears as she slipped her nightgown over her head and slid in between the sheets. As an afterthought, she listened to her voicemail.

“Rach, I’m SO sorry I didn’t call you today. Brian took me out yesterday and we went to see the show, which was fabulous by the way, and then he took me to dinner and back to his place for the night. I’ll call you later, but call me when you get in, okay?”

Rachel erased the voicemail, sighing and allowing the thick green coat of envy to envelop her. She would never say anything out loud, but she hated that Sheri could always get guys and this one especially. This one might have been at speed dating if Sheri hadn’t snatched him up first. And what did Sheri need with a Jewish guy anyway? It’s not like she would give up Christmas and convert. Rachel stared at the ceiling, allowing her mind to wander.

Revised Tally Sheet:

YES:
Brian. Cute, Wall Street type who owns a dog (very trustworthy) and his own home. Laughs and tells jokes constantly. Would charm the pants off my mother and father. Oh, and probably hates fat girls.

Her stomach lurched. Okay, so much for Brian, maybe he wasn’t really meant for her. She shook off the self-pity and picked up the phone, hitting speed dial button one.

“Hey,” she said with as much enthusiasm as a McDonald’s clerk asking if you want fries with your Quarter Pounder.

“Rach. How’d it go?” Sheri sounded like she’d been sleeping and Rachel heard rustling.

“It was okay. Not something I’d want to do regularly, but I guess it was better than twenty whole blind dates.”

“Any potentials?” Sheri sounded far off, like she was holding the phone away from her face.

“Well, I said
yes
to two guys. One was an accountant, I don’t know what the other guy did, but he was pretty cute, I guess.”

“That’s cool, Rach. But I’ve gotta run…” Her voice got far away again. “Hold on a second, Brian.” More rustling and then, “I’ll be right back, hon,” Sheri purred.

Rachel felt her throat get tight and couldn’t wait to get off the phone. “Yeah, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Wait, Rach, I just wanted to ask you. Brian has this friend who we think would like to meet you.”

Rachel blinked at her reflection in the mirror. “Uh, I don’t think so.”

“Aw, c’mon, we could double. Hold on Brian, just… oh, stop that!” Sheri giggled.

Rachel, not normally predisposed to violence had a sudden urge to throw the phone at the wall. “I’ll pass.”

“Hold on, Rach,” Sheri said. The rustling got louder and then Rachel could hear movement. “Okay, sorry. Anyway, forget about the speed dating thing. Seriously, I really want you to meet this guy. He works in Brian’s office and I’ve met him, he’s nice.”

“How does he feel about fat girls?” Rachel spat, surprising even herself.

“What?” Sheri sounded genuinely shocked.

“I’m not your charity case, Sheri.” She was crying, the tears dripping down the sides of her face into her pillow.

“Oh my God, Rachel, I didn’t mean that. I have
never
thought of you that way. You’re my best friend.” She paused, sounding like she was fighting tears herself. “Jesus, Rach, if it came out sounding that way, I’m sorry, but I never,
ever
meant it like that. I just want you to be happy and find someone.”

Racked with full out sobs, Rachel began to have trouble breathing. “How…am I ever going to find…someone? I’m huge and fat and ugly.” She punctuated her point with a painful hiccup.

“Don’t say that, Rachel. Please…” Sheri sobbed.

Suddenly racked with guilt over making her best friend cry, Rachel sniffed. “Well, it’s true.”

“Listen. What time are you working tomorrow?” Sheri asked.

“I’m in at ten.” Rachel reached for a Kleenex.

“Okay, why don’t you come over at eight thirty and we’ll hash this out. We’ll have a strategy meeting. Let’s really do this, Rachel. I don’t want you beating yourself up anymore.”

Rachel sniffled into the Kleenex.

“Rach?”

“Yeah.”

“We’re gonna do this okay? I’m serious, come over in the morning and we’ll get a game plan.”

“Okay.” Rachel nodded even though Sheri couldn’t see her. “I’ll bring coffee.”

“You okay?” Sheri asked.

“I will be.”

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

Rachel hung up the phone and got out of bed. She turned on the light and looked in the mirror again. She looked at herself, trying to see what she
really
looked like. She didn’t just want to see what she normally saw when she put on make-up; she wanted to see what strangers saw when they looked at her, what the men at speed dating saw.

She saw fat, and she saw sad. She faked a smile, like the smile she had pasted on her face every four minutes when a new man had sat down across from her. It wasn’t very convincing. To get rid of the sad, she would have to get rid of the fat. Taking a deep breath, she looked at herself again and put on her bravest, strongest, most determined face. To get rid of the fat, she had to be strong. Really strong. She had lost many a fight to a small but feisty fifty-two gram opponent. Made of flour, eggs, and shortening, known as the Krispy Kreme original glazed donut, it was one of her worst enemies (not that she ever ate just
one
). But she had to be stronger than a donut, stronger than the bacon and eggs, stronger even than nachos and chicken wings.

She looked at herself again. What plate of nachos had ever been worth this? She had bought every moment of sadness one fatty mouthful at a time. She did this to herself and now it was time to undo it.

“I’m gonna do it. I really am this time,” Rachel told herself.

Now the strong face was there of its own accord, she didn’t even have to fake it.

Chapter 4

Coffee just wasn’t going to be the same without a side of donut, Rachel thought as she lumbered up the stairs to Sheri’s second-floor apartment.
Maybe I’ll start smoking. No doubt that will help me lose weight; I can substitute cigarettes for food.

Rachel thought back to the one time in high school when she and Sheri had hidden out in the girl’s washroom, each with a cigarette stolen fresh that morning from Sheri’s mom’s purse back when all the Hadassah ladies, Pearl included, smoked. Sheri had lit the match and held it out for Rachel to light her own cigarette, her hand trembling as she held the flame. Rachel sucked on the filter to help it light. And like a champ, she had hacked until she thought she would throw up.

“Not so much! Just suck a little; you’re not giving it a blow job!” Sheri had said, always full of pithy advice.

Maybe that’s a no on the smoking. Or maybe I could develop a crack habit. That’s one thing you never see on TV: a fat crack addict.

Rachel stood in front of Sheri’s door for several moments, catching her breath after the big flight of stairs left her gasping. Between being out of shape and her weight, if she acquired any sort of unhealthy habit, be it smoking or crack, she would be lighting the fuse on the time bomb called cardiac arrest.

Finally, once she stopped puffing and her heart returned to a normal pace, holding the tray of coffees with her right hand and her purse with her left, Rachel contemplated bending down and pressing the doorbell with her nose. She reconsidered and kicked the door lightly with her foot, waiting patiently for her friend to come and let her in.

She heard the turn and click of the deadbolt and was greeted by Sunny the Chihuahua. Less welcome than the yipping little dog was Sheri’s
‘only been up for two minutes’
face. No smile, eyes barely open.

“Hey,” Sheri grunted, pulling the door open and turning back toward the living room. Clearly, the tail-wagging Sunny was going to be much better company than his owner.

Rachel kicked the door closed behind her. “You coulda taken the coffee from me, sheesh.” She kicked off her shoes and dropped her purse on the floor.

“Sorry,” Sheri said, already replanted on the couch. “Did you get me a muffin?”

“Uh, no, I thought I was here so we could talk about a new diet?” If Rachel had to suffer, so did Sheri. Rachel took Sheri’s coffee out of the cardboard tray and placed it in front of her on the coffee table and then grabbed her own, flipping open the plastic tab.

Instantly the sweet, chocolaty aroma of her mochaccino wafted up from the five dollar beverage, making a beeline for Rachel’s nose. Sitting down, she closed her eyes and breathed in its calming bouquet; it was like a spa moment for her soul.

“Is that a mochaccino?” Sheri asked, opening her cup of good old java (“There is no way I’m spending five bucks for a drink that doesn’t even have booze in it,” she was known to say).

“Yeah.” Rachel took a sip, savoring the chocolaty mocha taste before she put the cup down on the table, wary of Sunny’s location and innate propensity to spill drinks.

Sheri bored her eyes into Rachel. “Isn’t that like a million calories?”

Rachel blinked and looked down at her mochaccino as though it had betrayed her. “I don’t know…”

“I’ll bet it is, what’s in it? Like, chocolate syrup and did you get it with caramel sauce in it too?”

Rachel didn’t like where this line of questioning was going. Sheri had an edge to her voice that made her sound like a scolding teacher. “Yeah, just a little…”

“And whipped cream?” She didn’t wait for Rachel’s answer, continuing after she sipped guiltlessly at her coffee. “Well, you know, if we’re going to be watching our diets, I think you’ve got to say goodbye to the mochaccinos.” She had an apologetic look on her face, but the words were just cruel.