Woman of Substance (18 page)

After coffee, Jake drove back to the manor and walked into Room 214. It was just another room now, the bed stripped and smelling of antiseptic wash. The pictures had been removed from the wall and placed in a box. Frank’s clothes were neatly piled on the shelves in the closet and his books lay beside them. Jake’s hands trembled as he picked up the suitcase and packed the remainder of a life into it.

At the desk, the clerk said, “We’re going to miss him. He was a real gentleman.”

The manager of housekeeping said, “We’re sorry for your loss.” She handed Jake a metal suitcase, which had been kept in storage at Frank’s request. Jake remembered seeing it in the back of his grandparents’ closet all the years he was growing up. His fingers moved along the scars around the lock, which Jake had created one day in his youth when he had attempted to pick the lock open with the aid of a fingernail file and a flashlight.

He put the suitcases and box into the trunk of the Mustang. Jake looked around the parking spaces on the street for Robin’s sedan. It was past the time that she usually visited Frank. She hadn’t missed visiting in the late morning or early afternoon since they met. With one last glance down the street, he drove to the university, hoping she was okay. He couldn’t take losing another special person in his life.

Chapter 14

On Monday evening, Robbie’s decision was final. She would not appear in her disguise when she defended her thesis and her relief was immediate because she knew when to step out of someone else’s oxfords and back into her own loafers.

But she woke up Tuesday morning, with her defense only a few hours away, and knew she had to change her plan. Robbie disguised as Robin needed to be seen when she shared her passionate social commentary and self-revelation. She would honor all of the women and men who had answered her questions and shared their fears and joys. She would also honor Frank and Mabel one last time.

Robbie knew from the thesis defense routine that a ten-minute break was scheduled before the second round of questions. It was not enough time to become Robin but it was enough time to remove the glasses, the contacts, the wig, and the foam body suit. She packed a suitcase that could hold the body suit after she changed from it back into a matching gray business suit and white blouse that she wore during the first half of the defense, a brush for her hair, and some deodorant. Who knew how much she’d perspire during the first round? She was confident in her material but the committee would now be in control of her future.

Robbie buttoned her coat, slung her briefcase over her shoulder, and wheeled the suitcase into the garage. After she got into the car, she moved the seat back to make room for her belly.
This must be like what women who are in the latter stages of pregnancy have to do. No time for those thoughts. Stay focused
. This time she splurged and filled a parking meter close to the Humanities building. She needed to look fresh and in control.

Just before one o’clock, the examining room was filled with bright blue, winter light. Despite the butterflies in her stomach, she practiced her opening remarks to the empty chairs behind the committee members’ table, then sat on one of the chairs placed along the wall for observers and friends. She raised her hand to welcome Brad and Sam, then quickly dropped it before they noticed her. She was pleased that they came together to support her. Sharon, Mavis, and Margaret sat near the exit. Mavis’s bracelets jingled when she gave a thumbs-up before poking Sharon and Margaret. Each opened their eyes wide, signaling their obvious approval of Robbie’s choice. Another Women’s Studies student arrived and claimed the middle seat. No one else recognized her.

The committee took their places. Dr. Parker, the chair, sat in the center of the board table. Dr. Leddy, the external examiner, Dr. Grainger, Dr. Ross, and finally Dr. Clifton arranged their copies of Robbie’s manuscript with pages flagged in various colors. They each glanced expectantly at the door and their watches while they chatted. The chair reserved for the student remained empty.

Dr. Parker looked over his glasses at Dr. Clifton. “Ms. Smith is attending, is she not?”

“Yes.” Dr. Clifton continued texting a message on her cell phone.

When the second hand on the clock passed the twelve, Robbie stood up. “Good afternoon, Dr. Parker and examination committee members. Although I appear different, I assure you that under this costume, I am Robin Mary Smith, ready to defend my research and conclusions. I have taken the liberty of appearing before this committee in the disguise that I have worn in public for the last few weeks to gain a new perspective for my thesis research. I feel that I have learned in the shape of this body what I could not learn through research alone.”

Dr. Parker leaned over the desk and squinted through his glasses. “This is highly unusual. Please take your seat.” He turned to Clifton. “Dr. Clifton, you are this student’s advisor.”

Clifton tucked her cell phone under her papers. “Dr. Parker, I advised this student not to include this subjective research.”

“But can you assure us that this is her?”

“Not by appearance.” Clifton’s lips pursed.

Robbie turned and straightened her shoulders. “I must inform the panel that even though my advisor suggested that my project would be tainted by subjective information, Dr. Clifton continued to assist me with her thorough knowledge of all issues related to women in our society. I continued this experiment without her knowledge. I must beg her pardon.”

“What would you suggest?” Dr. Parker looked down the table at the rest of the panel.

Robbie raised her hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think it would cause an identity question. I see so many similarities when I look in the mirror. May I tell you that at the break I intend to remove the costume and you will recognize me from my university ID card. I can show you my student card now. If that is not sufficient, I would ask permission to break now and change.”

“How do we know that the real Robin Smith won’t be hiding in the restroom and return to finish the questioning?” Dr. Grainger asked.

“We could have a security guard accompany her to the area and search the bathroom and escort her back,” one of the members said.

“Good idea, Dr. Leddy. Let us proceed. We have a very tight schedule,” Dr. Parker said.

“Thank you.” Robbie let out the breath that she hadn’t realized she was holding.

Dr. Parker invited Robbie to present her opening remarks.

“As you have read in my manuscript, there are reports that state that body size does not make a difference in hiring qualified people for positions, or wait lists for surgery, or even life insurance premiums. However, in my research group of women-of-size, I found that these situations do occur.”

Robbie felt the air change and heard the door close. She wondered if Brad and Sam had left. Jean straightened her jacket and smiled at the back of the room over Robbie’s head.

“What has been your most important discovery, Ms. Smith?”

Robbie stood. “Dr. Leddy, a woman who is not obese has advantages in our world that are not extended to other women if they are viewed as fat. My control group and research indicate that fat women are considered less intelligent upon first impression because it appears as if they can’t control their food intake and their energy expenditure. That belief extends to their competency in the rest of their lives. How could they be the accountant, the doctor, the nutritionist, a fitness trainer, and a mother? I tested the employment statistic where I used my identical credentials for an interview in a human resource department with a food company named in my endnotes. When I appeared dressed as I am now”—she gestured to her business suit— “I was given a keyboard proficiency test, a psychological test, and had an interview where my ability to sample only one small brownie was challenged. I was told that I’d be contacted at a future date. I was not. When I appeared the following day without the body suit, I was escorted directly into the human resources manager’s office and the first questions were the same. However, I was also commended on my physique and exercise program. I was told that I was a definite candidate and could be trusted to represent their line of sweet treats with probable promotion opportunities.”

“What have you learned about women when they are considered fat in our society?” Dr. Grainger asked.

“Women have waged wars on fat. They abolish fat out of their diets, and surgically remove fat from their bodies as they engage in skirmishes against thighs, stomachs, and buttocks. They battle the connection between thin, young, and vivacious while being bombarded with messages that fat is old, sluggish, and irresponsible.”

“You can’t mean that everyone you met projected this opinion?” Dr. Ross interjected.

Robbie felt a smile form. She nodded while she spoke and used her hands for expression, careful to keep them below her chin, so the committee could see her face clearly. “On one of my excursions, a young boy pointed to me and told his mother that I was a Fat Lady. He was right. But his mother also pointed out other members of our society, the elderly, the thin, and the young. She showed respect for me as a person and passed it on to her son.”

The next hour and a half were grueling, but Robbie knew her answers had depth and passion because she had experienced some of the same emotions that women who live with obesity everyday of their lives experienced in their roles as mothers, wives, and employees.

“But you must admit that our population has an obesity crisis. It is all over the news.” Dr. Leddy looked out across the small audience.

Robbie shifted her weight and centered her stance. “Yes, and the practice of telling people to lose weight in order to improve their health isn’t working.”

“What would you suggest?” Dr. Parker asked as he scanned a page of her manuscript.

“Because my study focuses on women, I believe that women will make things happen by examining the reason we are uncomfortable with our weight and reclaim our bodies making them our personal business and not society’s business. When we accept a realistic evaluation of our body, we can build an accurate sense of self. We will address the false stereotypes that fat women are ugly, lazy, and stupid, which are now used to oppress and discriminate against them.”

Robbie heard Sharon’s quiet “yes” from the audience.

“That’s idealistic. Perhaps your field study research is anecdotal.” Dr. Parker’s knee bounced up and down under the table.

“Yes, you may consider my field study as anecdotal because I discovered that I cannot walk in another person’s body. I do not have the day-to-day, hour-to-hour challenges that the women in my research group have faced over their lifetime.” Robbie put her hand on her heart. “I can share that I met a man who loved his wife, whose body type was considered obese. He loved her everyday of their lives until they were separated by death. I can only hope that one day I will be mature enough to also experience unconditional love and acceptance of who I am. I would not have discovered this man without this research. It has been my most prized experience.”

“Thank you, Ms. Smith. We’ll take our ten-minute break now,” Dr. Parker announced. “I’m sorry, Ms. Smith, but you’ll have to be escorted to the restroom that you wish to use to change. Purely for security reasons, we can’t have anyone suggesting that this defense was not performed by the qualified student.”

“I understand. I’ll get my bag.” Robbie turned around and was met by a cold, dark, lava-rock stare. She gripped her belly. Jake. He’d been there the whole time. She swallowed past bile in her throat. She breathed deeply, determined to finish what she had started. With her head held high, she licked her dry lips and nodded to him.

“It
was
you.” Jean Clifton stood from behind the committee table and peered over her glasses at Robbie and Jake.

Dr. Parker struck his gavel on the table. “Dr. Clifton?”

Robbie held her breath. She stood alone, sweating in the foam body, with all of her years and investment ready to flow down some invisible tunnel never to be retrieved again.

Dr. Clifton sat back into her chair, tapped her pen against her teeth, and a slow, thin, smile slid into place. “Go and change.”

Robbie’s knees buckled and she reached toward Jake, sitting straight-backed in the chair. The planes of his face filled with deep shadows. He didn’t offer assistance. She teetered. Her suitcase provided the support she needed. His hard brown eyes started at the top of her head and traveled down her body and back again to her face. The man who’d accused her of attempted theft on the first day they met was back. She knew she had played a dangerous game when she continued to become friends with Frank and Jake even though only her outer shell had been a lie.

“Jake, I’m sorry. I’ll explain later.”

He looked past her to the door held open by a familiar security man.

“Don’t tell Frank. I’ll tell him. I promise.” Her wheeled suitcase followed her out the door. Brad gave her a high-five and Sam gripped her hand and kissed her cheek when she passed their seats. Mavis blew her nose into a tissue. Sharon reached out and touched Robbie’s hand.

“You did it,” Margaret whispered. “I thought you weren’t going to antagonize the committee by dressing up.”

Robbie shrugged. “It felt right to be here in this shape. But I haven’t passed yet. I still had questions to answer.”

“Good luck,” Margaret said. “We’re here for you, no matter what happens.”

“I know.” Robbie followed the security guard to a staff washroom. He unlocked the door.

The restroom was filled with bright florescent light. She leaned against the wall and balanced up against the sink. While Robbie emerged out from under the foam body, the makeup, the glasses and wig, her thoughts were on Jake and Frank. She felt uneasy even when she argued with herself that Jake researched all of the time so he should be used to the many different approaches to a subject. While her heart jumped from normal to double-time just thinking about him and their fledgling friendship, she knew instinctively that she had to hide those feelings from Clifton if she was going to accomplish her goal and receive her degree.

When she emerged from the restroom, the security guard whistled. She accepted his much-needed boost to her confidence. She knew that she could still be failed and that a pass depended on the committee’s ability to accept her demonstration as well as her research.

When she opened the door to the examination room, the committee members nodded. Except Clifton, who seemed preoccupied but stretched her lips into a thin straight line. She averted her gaze from the back of the room. She couldn’t risk seeing Jake, allowing any regret to deter her from her goal.

Robbie produced her official student identification with her photograph.

“Excellent. Excellent,” Dr. Parker said. “Dr. Clifton?”

“Continue.” Jean Clifton tapped her pen and leaned back in her chair.

Robbie felt humbled by the personality that easily emerged. She smiled more readily and she moved with ease. When she was fat Robin, she worked harder to be accepted before she was heard and valued.

During the last minutes of a defense, it was tradition that the advisor would ask a question showcasing the student’s intellect and possibly sealing the passing grade.

Jean Clifton cleared her throat. “How do you think your field study has helped you understand society’s bias against size diversity when you can so easily remove the very thing that your research concludes that society is prejudiced against?” Jean paused for effect while she turned her focus to the male members of the committee. “Many women will never be the size our grad student, Ms. Smith, is right now.”