I Was Here All Along (7 page)

Chapter 16

Breathless

“Just have a fling,” Drew says.  We’re running through the park and we’ve just reached the final part of the trail that winds through scrub oak and blueberry bushes.  “I mean, you’re twenty one, you’ve only been with one guy and it was a really long relationship.  You don’t want to jump into something serious this fast do you?”

“I would be completely… satisfied with a fling…but I don’t think Rio wants one…I told you…he keeps shutting down…all my attempts at seduction.”  Drew is a much better runner than me, and it’s all I can do to keep up with him, much less carry on a conversation and still breathe.

“That seems strange to me,” he says.  “You must not be trying hard enough.  The guy obviously likes women.”—I’d told Drew about all Rio’s fuck buddies—“What are you doing to seduce him?”

“I don’t know…pushing my boobs out and stuff… he knows I’m a sure thing…just from what I’ve said.”

“Then you should find someone else who’s
interested.  You look great Ember.  And you’re every guy’s dream come true—a gorgeous girl who’s spent her whole life overweight so she developed an awesome personality and stayed completely down to earth.  You’re not going to have to look very far to find someone who would give his left nut to...”

“To what?” I grin and shoot him a look, feeling giddy that he just called me gorgeous and awesome.

“To help you get your groove back, baby.” He elbows me as we run past the lake.  Our feet crunch over fallen leaves as we forge ahead.  This is the hardest stretch because there’s a steep incline, but once the ground levels out, it means we’ve completed two and a half miles.

I love running with Drew.  He’s become like a gay male friend to me.  Because he’s totally off limits, I can be completely myself around him without having to worry about what he thinks, and he gives me excellent insight into the male mind. 

Drew has seen me at my lowest and he knows just how hard I’ve been pushing myself these past few months.  He’s never been anything but patient and supportive, cheering me on every step of the way.  Even pretending I wasn’t slowing him down when we first started running together, which I totally was.

“I’m not sure…what I’m going to do yet…but I’m not finished with Rio…not by a long shot…Even if he doesn’t want…to get up in this…I’m at least… going to have some fun with him.”

“Hey, speaking of getting up in that, are you hanging out with April again tonight?  Wait, that came out weird. “

I laugh, but in the back of my mind, I try to figure out what he’s talking about.  “Why?” I ask.

“You guys hung out the last two nights so I was hoping to see my girlfriend tonight, if you know what I’m saying.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” I say noncommittally.

As we run, my mind is churning a hundred miles an hour.  The truth is, I haven’t hung out with April the past two nights, but I have a pretty good idea what she’s been up to.

There’s something I haven’t mentioned about my sister yet, and even now, it hurts me to say it because it doesn’t reflect well on her, and I don’t want anyone to hold it against her because April has so many other incredible qualities. 

But here it is, the honest to God truth about my sister: April has cheated on every boyfriend she’s ever had.  So I think it’s safe to assume that she’s now doing the same to Drew. 

See, April’s relationships generally last three to seven months.  There’s never a break between them, and she has yet to reach the one year mark with anyone.  When she gets tired of one guy or wants to break it off for whatever reason, she immediately finds another guy to replace the last one.  Sometimes the two relationships even overlap, and by “sometimes”, I mean every relationship she’s ever been in. 

Even the one guy who’s ever dumped her, leading to the meltdown that led her not to be my maid of honor.  That was brought about when he looked at her phone and found fifty million texts and emails from some other dude. 

My sister can’t help herself—she’s a free spirit.  It’s just who she is.  Back in high school, I remember our dad desperately trying to talk her out of going to art school, but she wouldn’t be deterred.  It was her dream, she pleaded tearfully over and over again until he finally relented.  He hated the idea of spending money on such an impractical degree, but she was so earnest, so sure of what she wanted.

Then halfway through her freshman year, she dropped out of college and ran off to Europe to live in youth hostels.  While there, she got engaged to a French guy she’d been dating for all of two weeks.  She even invited dad and I to the wedding, but before anything was planned, she broke it off to fly back home because she was homesick.

When she got here, she flitted from job to job, and for the time being, she takes people’s portraits at a photography studio.  She’s extremely talented and just got a huge raise and a promotion, which means she’ll probably tire of it soon and move on to something else.  And when she does, she’ll land on her feet and find something new that she’s just as good at.

Things just have a way of working out for her like that. And the whole time she’s flitting from guy to guy, job to job, home to home, she leaves a bloody swath of broken hearts in her wake.  I know because I’ve spent many nights on our shared home phone consoling these poor, miserable saps when she dumps them and runs off with the next in line to catch her interest. 

I decided long ago not to get attached to anyone in her life.  But then Drew came along, and I made an exception.  He’s someone special, and I truly hoped April was finally growing up and settling down, and that all her declarations of love for Drew actually meant something.

I feel an ache in my chest, and I’m not sure if it’s from running, or if I’m just really, really sad for Drew.  I stop on the trail and see him slow down, then stop and run in place ahead of me.  “Come on, Ember.  We’re almost there.  Finish strong.”

I hold up a hand to indicate that I need to stop for a minute, then lean over to catch my breath, wrapping an arm over my stomach and staring down at my sneakers.

Drew saunters back to me and holds out his water bottle.  “Here.”

“That’s okay…I still have some,” I say.

“You alright?  You look like something’s wrong.”

“I’m fine…Just a little pain in my heart, that’s all.”

Chapter 17

Transformation

I do something I’ve never done in my entire life.  I accrue a balance on my credit card that I won’t be able to pay off at the end of the month, something my fiscally responsible father drilled into me never, ever to do on penalty of crushing debt and eventual bankruptcy.

But it’s worth the risk, because I just dropped the money on a bunch of lingerie to celebrate the fact that for the first time ever, I love the way I look naked. 

I’m sure some women out there lose a bunch of weight and then fixate on something else they don’t like about themselves, but not me.  I’ve always despised being fat—it‘s the one thing I’ve always deeply and truly hated about myself.  And now that’s it’s gone, I finally feel free in a way I’ve never felt before.

I could admire myself in the mirror for hours, and I do.  Hey, after all the years I’ve spent hating myself and all the suffering I’ve done at the gym for the past five months, I’m allowed to be a little vain.  Plus I can’t eat anything delicious anymore, so I might as well enjoy the upside.

I expected my boobs to shrink, which they did.  But I still overflow a C cup, and my butt hasn’t gone anywhere either.  

Since April has always been a skinny waif, I figured that when I lost weight, I’d look the same way. But it turns out we have totally different body types, and while the rest of me has shrunk down to a size 8 and all my unacceptable bulges are smaller and sleeker, I still have curves, and I imagine I still will when I shed another two sizes and reach my final goal.

In the meantime, I buy sexy lingerie for the first time.  A lot of it, even if it’s not going to fit for much longer.  I simply can’t resist.  I pick out a lacy red bra and panty set, a delicate pink bra and thong and several slip nighties in various colors. They’re nothing like the nighties Brian used to buy me.  They’re completely sheer and leave nothing to the imagination.  But my piece de resistance is a black bra and thong set with a matching garter belt, which looks like something a gorgeous celebrity would wear in a movie.  I have no idea who will end up being my first fling after Brian, but he’s a lucky man with a lot of boners in his future.

And I’m ready for him.  Beyond ready.  I haven’t had sex forever, and even though my sessions with Rio have left me constantly hot and bothered, I can’t get any relief. 

Lately I’ve been exaggerating my stretches, lunges and forward bends to show off my new figure during our sessions, but he’s completely tuned me out. The other day I was putting my butt in the air provocatively while stretching my calves, and when I looked over to see if he was sneaking a peek, he was sniffing his armpit. 

***

Rio and I are on the mat working on planks when the gym manager comes over.  He knows me well since I’m a regular fixture here, though he started paying a lot more attention to me once I dropped below a size ten. 

“Looking good, Ember!” he says.  “Hey, I have something to ask you.  Can we put a before and after shot of you on the
Total Impact
website?”

I come up from my plank and wipe my forehead with a gym towel.  “Sorry but I’d rather not.  I’m kind of shy about having my picture plastered all over the place.”

“Aw, but it’ll be such good motivation for other people!”

And good advertising for the gym at the expense of my dignity.
  “I don’t want people looking at my fat picture and thinking about how shitty I used to look.  And what if I gain the weight back and look shitty again—that would be even more embarrassing.”

“Then don’t gain the weight back,” Rio says.

“You know what I mean,” I say.

Rio shrugs.  “I have my picture on the site.  What’s the harm?”

“What if someone I know sees it?”

“So?” Rio says.  “They’ll think, ‘Wow, there’s December Snowe looking hot as hell.’ What’s wrong with that?”

“I just don’t like to be the center of attention, so I’d rather not have a picture of me made so public.  Sorry.”

“It’s not like you’ll be on the home page,” says the manager. “It’s on a little side tab with a hundred other before and after shots.”

“And my name will be listed next to your picture,” Rio chimes in.  “So anyone who sees it will know I’m your trainer and can contact me. You’re an example of my best work.”

“Come on Ember,” says the manager.  “Help Rio here make a living.  The guy has bills to pay.”

“Ugh, fine!  But I want a month free at the gym so I get something out of this.  I have bills to pay too, you know.”

“Deal,” says the manager.  “Rio, make sure you get a before picture of her soon before she changes her mind.”

Chapter 18

Photo Op

I’ve had many fantasies about bringing Rio back to my place.  But in none of them did he come over to retrieve one of my old fat pictures so he could post it on a website to get business. 

“Come on,” I sigh as I lead Rio into my apartment, making no attempt to hide my annoyance.  “I’m not even sure I have a good fat picture.  I was always careful to take pictures at flattering angles.  If I looked fat in a picture, I’d destroy it immediately.”

“I’m sure you can find something,” Rio says as he sits down on my couch and rests his ankle on his knee.  Looking at his large body taking up half my couch cheers me up a little, and I pull out my laptop and sit beside him. I scroll through some poorly organized files of pictures, tilting the laptop so he can see the screen.

I click on a folder, and of course the first picture that pops up is Brian and I at our high school prom. 
 

“Who’s that joker?” Rio asks, and I laugh in spite of myself.

“That’s my ex-husband,” I say.  And taking a page from him, I don’t elaborate.
 

More prom pictures come up.  There’s a whole series of Brian and I at an after-party sitting on a ratty couch in someone’s basement drinking beer out of red Solo cups.

“So this guy was your prom date?”

“Yeah, and my ex-husband—I wasn’t kidding about that.  See?”  I pull up another folder entitled “Engagement party” and bring up a picture of Brian and I standing under a banner that declares, CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR ENGAGEMENT!

“You were married? How do I not know about this?  You’ve been holding out on me, December.  Here I thought you were this sweet innocent girl, and you’re…a jaded divorcee?”

“Actually the marriage never went though so technically, I didn’t get divorced.  We got married and changed our minds before the paperwork was filed.  But I have been married before, so it counts in a way.”

“I think you need to explain how this happened,” Rio says, taking over the computer and flipping through my photos. 
 

I tell him the whole sordid tale of Brian dumping me at the altar while Rio clicks through countless photos with rapt attention.  I even include the part about April upstaging me with her tiffany blue dress, and how my goal to be a size four is so that I can fit into it.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t marry this twerp, December.  You’re a late bloomer.  Now that you’ve bloomed, you can do much better than this guy.  He probably doesn’t have a single muscle in his entire body.”

I cut my eyes over to Rio, who’s staring at a picture of Brian and I at the beach with disgust.  I wonder if he’s jealous and find myself hoping he is. 

“That was such a romantic day,” I tell him. “It was the Fourth of July and we hung out on the beach all afternoon, then watched fireworks that night. We kept kissing each other during the grand finale.”

He grimaces. “I don’t know what could be enjoyable about having one of those skinny, noodle arms wrapped around you, but hey. Not my business.”

I giggle inwardly, loving that this big, beautiful man is jealous of dorky old Brian. 

“How about this one?” he asks, stopping at a full body shot of me at the boardwalk wearing a yellow sundress.  “For the website.”

I don’t look particularly hideous in it, and my face looks pretty enough, so I agree and send it to his phone.

“Now let’s get an after picture,” he says, standing up and fiddling with his phone. “Do you want to take it over there?” He points to the far wall.

“You can’t take my after picture with a phone camera,” I say,” “It’ll come out all grainy.  If you’re going to put the picture up in public, at least make sure it’s good.  Let me get my digital camera and we can make sure the settings are right.”

I locate my camera and then check myself in the mirror, but I’m unhappy with the way I’m dressed.  I’m wearing workout clothes, no makeup and a pony tail.

I’ve worked hard for this picture, and suddenly I want to make it count.

I look around my room for something better to wear.  My eyes settle on a Victoria’s Secret bag in the corner, and I get a crazy idea.