She
stepped quickly off that light grey scale—and looked at the flashing number
again. Could she really be reading
that right? No way had she gained
7 pounds in 3 weeks? Honestly, who
does that? That little App was meant to track and calculate every morsel. Two points for a slice of toast. Four points for a latte with
sugar. Seven points for a small
slice. It was brutal, but the
reality was worse.
No
longer a sexy size 6, but rather a curvy size 14. It wasn’t the end of the world, but it certainly was nearing
the end of her “till death do us part”.
“When I married you, you were hot,” he boasted. How come all of your friends are back
in their skinny jeans?”
Man,
you just can’t make that sort of thing up. Was he the problem? The hold back? The second slice of cake?
The secretive TWIX bar in the car?
Probably, but sometimes you have to man up and take responsibility.
So
busy she was kept. Two small
children. The lovely home. The
business. The emails.
Life
was occupied and lonely all at once.
If
she jumped back to 2001, she was happy, engaged in graduate school and the picture
of happiness. Sort of. Four months earlier, she’d left her
West Village walk up and opted for a share of a condo in Toronto. It was a big move, but there was the
promise of a graduate degree at the end of the two-year term. On paper it was better than waitressing
in a new city, and so she dove in headfirst. Heart last.
School
was a struggle. Calculators,
spreadsheets, nerds galore. Clearly
she didn’t fit in with the rest of them.
Lola was what she was nicknamed, because after all, “whatever LOLA
wants, LOLA gets’. The name was
appropriate and she lived up to it.
No male teacher could turn her away, or even give her a bad mark.
It was still a grind. A $50,000 grind. Stats class made her queasy, economics
gave her the chills and it was accounting that could actually make her hurl.
With
God’s grace and a lot of tears, she received the degree in June and walked down
the aisle two weeks later. A
radiant bride complete with cathedral veil and fairytale wedding. It was a dream. Not her dream, but a dream nonetheless…
Her
ex made a bet that she’d be miserable within 7 years. She wasn’t so sure.
Frankly, she may have been miserable already. But the music played on, and so did she.
The
honeymoon was over the top.
Luxury, extravagance and whatever else came with a new marriage. Turquoise string bikinis, cut off
shorts, and very long nights.
Back
in the city, life kept going. Work
was fulfilling and time consuming.
The paycheck was better than a kick in the head. Hours were long, but appreciated. Anything was better than coming
home. Home was boring and
unbearable. At least at work there
was a laugh or two to be had?
Trips
back and forth to NYC helped ease the monotony of married life. All her married friends were bored,
right? Face book was good for a smile or two every night. Funny how face book helped solidify the
fact that life in the past was sweet.
Sure there were countless photos of the wedding, but that didn’t hold a
candle to the prom pix and party pictures of years past. Guys were constantly coming out of the
woodwork, and it was always the same.
How are you? What are you up to? You married? You happy? Do you want to text me? It was easy. It was fun.
Satisfying? Not usually. It
was all good clean fun, but it was not all that fulfilling. Seemed nothing ever was, save for the
pizza and fries.
In
all honesty, he was a good guy. Actually the best guy she’d ever meet. Smart, successful,
handsome enough. He wasn’t
exceptionally fun or warm, but he was solid. Thin and solid.
She was everything he wasn’t.
Funny, warm, loving, and a heck of a lot of fun. He needed her for the contact buzz just
as she chose him for the stability in life.
Three
months after a sweet trip to NYC and a weekend stay at the PALACE, she found
out she was pregnant. What a
dream. The answer to her
questions. Finally she knew she’d
be whole. They were actually thrilled.
