My Big Fat Low-Fat Wedding

chapter 16



The next day I’ve stuck to my promise to my fiancé. I’m not reading any more self-help diet books. I am, however, going to continue to do the diet and exercise thing my way. I figure this morning is a good a time as any to get started, so I strap on my ankle and wrist weights before walking to the cafe.

I don’t even care that I have to dress a bit like Brenda (i.e. someone who’s always ready to workout at the drop of a hat). I’ve donned my trainers complete with sports socks. They’re not my sports socks. I’d borrowed them from Callum’s sock drawer. I think they might even be his former school PE socks. They are quite long and they stretch all the way up to my knees. Combined with the shorts and t-shirt I’m wearing, I look like an older woman who’s trying to personify her school days youth.

Oh well. I really don’t care what people might think I look like in public. I’m determined to look good on my wedding day, not every day leading up to it.

As I leave our terraced dwelling I’m feeling pumped. I stretch my limbs and take off walking. I’m so cheerful as I pound the pavement, not even the bloke who just drove past yelling out his car window, “nice socks,” can bring me down today.

Yesterday was a disaster. I can fully admit that to myself now. It’s as though this uphill canter I’m doing is clearing my mind. I can actually picture in my head how lame I’d behaved yesterday. I cringe inwardly remembering my determination at following such drivel that was written in that stupid book.

I mean, what kind of person buys into useless crap like that? I feel like such a freak and a big dummy head. Why can’t I just be normal? Everyone else in this town is perfectly normal…

I stop walking, realising that my thoughts of normality have suddenly been obliterated by the sight before me.

There’s an old man at the corner of Graham Road and Church Street. Only he’s not just standing there like any normal person would do. He’s sitting, but not in a normal way either.

Perhaps it is possible that I’m not the only abnormal person in this town.

The old man is sitting high atop a big green metal electricity control box. I’m not normally one to pry, but I just can’t seem to keep myself from being nosy today.

“Excuse me.” Shielding the sun from my eyes with a raised arm in front of my face, I look up and approach the ancient one. He’s got a long white beard and equally as long white hair. I’d say this guy resembles Gandalf from Lord of the Rings, but the only resemblance to that wizardy character stops at his head.

He’s dressed in a brown tweed suit and has on brown shoes. His entire ensemble looks like it’s been in his possession since the 1920s, which it probably has, if I’m judging his age correctly.

“How on earth did you get up there?”

The man removes the smoking pipe from betwixt his lips. Yes, that’s right, I said pipe. He’s actually smoking a pipe as though to complete the cranial look of a wizard. I swear the man’s eyes twinkle at me as he looks down.

“That’s a magical secret, my dear.” He winks and smiles. His voice is as old and craggy as I thought it would be.

I don’t assume he’s being rude by his expectancy that I believe he magically floated up onto his metal box perch. I don’t even care if his answer was a tactic at getting me to bugger off, because I continue with my questioning.

“Okay,” I say, changing tactics. “If you won’t say how you really got up there, then can you tell me why you’re up there?”

And that does it. The guy definitely didn’t want me to bugger off. As it turns out, I get the distinct feeling he was just waiting for me to ask the right question. I discover that he used to be a London traffic cop. These days, well into retirement at the age of seventy, he likes to watch the intersection to make sure everyone drives safely. He tells me his name is Rolland and I introduce myself as Emily. When he drops a bomb of information I’m not even fazed. After all, just because some pipe smoking, wizard looking man sitting atop an electric metal box says he’s got a two year old daughter from his new Thai wife, doesn’t mean I’m inclined to believe him.

Although, judging by Rolland’s eccentric personality, I’d say anything goes with this particular gentleman.

“I’m not hurting anyone sitting up here.”

Oh my. Does he think that’s why I confronted him. “Oh no, you’re fine.” I smile cheerily up at him. “In fact, I’d say you’re doing everyone at these traffic lights a favour by looking out for their safety. You’ve gotten loads of car horn beeps and hand waves just while I’ve been standing here.”

Rolland the 1920s wizard returns a cheery grin. “Actually, my dear, I’m quite sure they’re not beeping their horns at me.” He glances down at my lower legs. “Those are awfully nice socks you’re wearing.”

He winks and I have to laugh. Okay so maybe he’s right. I should have honestly thought twice about walking out in public wearing such ridiculous socks. Oh well, it’s too late to change my apparel now, besides, I’m already near the cafe anyway. I think I can endure a few more beeps of embarrassment as I head up the road.

“Thanks for sharing!” I wave to Rolland the Wiz as I walk away. He sticks his pipe back between his lips and starts puffing. As I trot up the pavement I turn back for one last look at the strange, yet kind man. From this side of his electrical box I can plainly see a small set of concrete steps leading right up to the top of the box he’s sat on.

What a cheeky old man he is telling me he got up there by means of magic.

***

“What a convivial woman you are, boss lady.” Anika accosts me with her big words the moment I step through the door of the cafe with a large grin on my face. “Did you’re serpentine journey to work boost your spirits this fine day?”

“Serpentine?”

Anika nods. “Yes, I am thinking you walked to work along winding roads this morning, no?”

“Yes.” I nod too. “I did indeed walk because I need to lose weight for my wedding day.”

“You do not need to be losing weight, boss lady.” My wonderful assistant sets down the tray she’s been holding. “You do not have, how do you say vissza mell?” When she utters her Hungarian words, she pinches her upper back with both hands. “You know?” She adds. “The breasts upon the back.”

My jaw drops open in astonishment. “Anika!” I gape at her. “Are you making a joke about back-boobs?”

“Yes!” She pinches her back some more. “I have these horrible back-boobs like you do not!”

“Pah!” I snort a laugh. “Don’t be silly, you don’t have back-boobs at all.”

“I do, boss lady!” She starts doing some arm pulling motions up and down. “I need to bonk some iron at the gym!”

Smiling, I shake my head and pick up the tray she put down. “I think you mean pump iron, and no you don’t need to do any sort of weight lifting.” Back-boobs, I think to myself whilst snickering on my way to the kitchen. As if skinny Anika has even an ounce of fat on her back. Though she makes me thoughtful. I suppose every woman has hang-ups about certain areas of their bodies. I’m certainly no different. I’ve got many body parts about which I complain to myself mentally over every moment of the day, it seems.

Are we women honest with each other truly though? I know I do tell the truth to anyone who’s skinny that tells me they’re fat. I simply tell them they aren’t. Although, I do have a few female friends who are a bit chunkier than me and I have been known to bend the truth if they ever ask me how they look in a certain outfit. I’m reminded of a telly advert I saw once where the woman says to her friend that her dress doesn’t make her look fat, it’s her fat that makes her look fat.

I cringe inwardly and set down the tray. It’s obvious we don’t tell our friends the honest truth about body size. I’m convinced Anika is just telling me I don’t need to lose weight, out of kindness. Well, as much as I appreciate her being nice, that’s not really the sort of encouragement I need to exercise and shed a few pounds. I think I’ll carry on with the aerobics I intend to do from now on.

“Phone for you, boss lady!” Anika bellows from the office.

“Stop calling me boss lady,” I whisper, taking the handset off her.

“No.” She says matter-of-factly before walking away.

“Hello?” I say into the phone.

“Hi, Em, it’s me.” It’s Lara. “Your dresses have come in but you don’t have to try them on today if you don’t want to—”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes!”

“Wait, Emily!”

“Yes?” I was nearly about to hang up, but I pause.

“I just…” Lara seems anxious. “I was just going to say that you don’t need to rush to try these dresses on or anything—”

“Are you crazy, Lolz? My wedding is right around the corner! I need to find a dress straight away!” Without another word, I hang up the call. I don’t have a clue as to why Lara sounded like she was actually trying to put me off trying on gowns that will most definitely be needed quite soon. I mean, she’s got to have time to do sewing alterations on whatever dress I chose. It’s not like there’s loads of time left until my big day, as it is!

I say tah-rah to Anika just as Fiona arrives to help with the lunch shift. My good mood is heightened from my morning walk. I’ve still got my wrist and ankle weights on and I’m not even feeling any muscle burn yet. I’ve got energy to spare it seems. It’s about time I felt this good really. I haven’t been the most jovial of brides-to-be lately. It’s just been one miserable stressor after the next. I’m so pleased I’m finally getting that bridal glow about me.

Wait. Is that a pregnancy thing? Well I don’t care. I’m in such a good mood that I’m determined to make bridal-glow a new thing. I can see my reflection in store windows as I walk past them, I really do think my skin is glowing with happiness that I’ll soon be wed to my soul mate. And I really think I’ll be able to lose enough weight in time for our big day. I swear this positive wedding attitude is capable of pumping happy blood into my facial features. That must be the rosy glow to my cheeks that I’m seeing and feeling.

I suppose I was right about not caring what people think of my long socks either. I’m still getting a few beeps from people driving by in their cars, and some passers-by do look down at my socks. They also look up to my face though, so I’m pretty sure they too are witnessing my bridal-glow. Surely they know I’m a bride-to-be. There isn’t a woman on this street who’s happier than me at this very moment, I’d say. And just imagine how thrilled I’m going to be on my actual wedding day.

With a hop and a skip I carry on down the pavement. This pulls my hamstring slightly as the weight upon my ankles kicks in. I’ll get enough exercise by simply walking, so I decide not to skip at all for the rest of the day. I wouldn’t want to cause myself muscle injury before my big day!

There’s someone I owe thanks to for lifting my spirits greatly this morning. I fully intend on saying hi to Rolland —the electric box sitting wizard— as I round the corner. But as I do I discover the top of the green box is empty. My spirits are briefly dashed now. I was quite looking forward to seeing him perched up there. Ah well, he’s old, I don’t suppose he can sit up there for too long without feeling some butt-hurt from the hard metal box beneath his bony old bum. Come to think of it, at the rate I’m exercising lately, I wouldn’t be surprised if I end up with a bony bum of my own soon.

Thoughts of smaller hips cheers me up again, but only for a few seconds. As I round the next corner my happiness almost turns into pure rage.

I swear I just saw Thomas duck away into a shop just now.

***

“Did you see that boy?” I step into Lara’s bridal shop and immediately hide around the inner wall.

“Boy?” Lara hurries over to me. “I didn’t see anything. No point in hanging about out here, let’s get you into the fitting area, shall we?” She crooks her elbow into mine and leads me away.

“Oh f*ck.” Lara curses and draws us both to a halt. Her bell shaped bridal robot comes floating out of the back room. “Nothing to help with here!” Lara exclaims loudly before lowering her voice and mumbling through her teeth. “You stupid little piece of shit.”

“What was that?” I’m whisked away past the lace covered bot. “Now you see what I’ve been trying to tell you, Lolz? Those things are a menace.”

Sighing loudly, Lara directs me into the changing room. “Don’t be silly, Emily!” Her voice has gone loud again. If I didn’t know better I’d swear she’s intent on the robot overhearing her praises. For praising the blasted thing is exactly what she does. “My robot is such a wonderful little helper!” She scowls at me with the bot out of sight. “It isn’t really.”

I look at her, dumbfounded. “What are you on about?”

“Oh nothing. Never mind. You just try on these dresses and give us a shout when you’re finished.”

When I’m finished? “But what about helping me tie them up?” I shout after Lara, but she’s already vanished back into the front rooms. Well, that was weird.

Turning towards the mirror in the big room, I notice one wall is lined with a selection of gowns. That’s okay then, I suppose. It looks as though Lara really has gone all out on ordering dresses for me. Bless her, she’s the one who’s bound to know what style will best suit me. What’s even more amazing is that it looks like each and every bridal gown she’s ordered requires not a single bit of corset tying up the backs. Every dress before me comes with zippers or hooks.

“Well that’s convenient.” What’s also mightily easy is that fact that I don’t see a stitch of control underwear in sight. “Hooray!” I burst out exuberantly.

“Everything all right in there?” I hear Lara shout from far off.

“Yeah, fine!” I bellow back and get started on dress fittings all by myself.

Unstrapping my wrist weight first, I’m surprised to find a lot more sweat build up underneath than I’d anticipated. “Ew.” I complain, dropping the one-pounder onto the floor to dry out. As I remove my second wrist weight, it too is completely sodden with perspiration on one side. Thankfully, when I remove my ankle weights I find they’re dry. So much for those who mocked my socks on the streets! By having worn my ankle weights over my socks, the weights themselves had remained dry.

“Hooray!” I shout again. When Lara yells back at me to keep it down I promise not to get so excited over such simple things anymore. I just can’t help it. I’m in such good spirits today.

That feeling of elation is quickly doused once I try on my first dress. It’s a strapless number that zips up easily enough, but the thing is way too big for me. I harrumph loudly and slump my shoulders. My reflection in the mirror shows one scowly-faced looking wannabe bride. “Well this won’t do at all.” I mutter angrily. I really do need Lara in here to help me. I mean, isn’t it her job to fit these dresses onto me properly?

Oh. Hang on a second. She can’t just sew up the dress while it’s on me. Not each and every gown I try on. I realise her robot could sew me up whilst dress-wearing, but I think Lara and I both don’t want that to happen.

Shuddering, I remember the last time I’d let her bot administer stitchings while I’d been wearing a bridal gown. The blasted little machine had sewn me up into the dress! With the ease of unzipping the gown I’m currently wearing, I feel a sense of claustrophobia being released. In comparison with that dress sewing fiasco, these zip dresses are easy-peasy to get in and out of.

My good mood returns after slipping out of the gown. I’m just so damn chuffed that I’m not suffocating right now. I know I would be finding it really hard to breath if I had control underwear upon my personage. I’m grateful to Lara for remembering how much I’d hated being sucked in too tightly by skin coloured spandex fabric. It’s much easier trying on dresses without having to stand stiff as a statue. I don’t know how I would have sat down at my own wedding if I’d been forced to don control underwear.

Although, the dresses I’ve been trying on do seem a little big in size. I’m starting to get the impression that perhaps Lara hadn’t really thought my gowns through before ordering them. But she wouldn’t do that to me? Would she? I am her best friend after all, and it is my wedding.

Flicking through the rack of dresses, I’m becoming increasingly worried about the suitability of these gowns. They’re all quite pretty, but they are also either way too big or much too small.

Then, I spot something very unusual.

Unusual, but nice. It’s a short white dress with simple narrow straps. There’s no billowing fabric or train on this gown. In fact, the thing is so simple in design I might not think it was made for a bride at all if it weren’t for the fact that its bodice is clearly exquisitely inlaid with white-opal beading.

Oh my, this is lovely. I pull the knee-length dress from its hanger and try it on.

“This is perfect!” I twirl and spin in front of the mirror as Lara enters the changing area. I’ve left the door open.

“How did that get in there?” She frowns and stomps forward. After flicking quickly, and to be honest pretty angrily through the row of dresses, I’m told to take off the dress I’m wearing. “That dress is for an older woman who’s getting married on a beach next month, Em. Sorry. You don’t want something so simple for your big day anyway—”

“I like it though.” I have to cut off her talking. She’s rambling again and insisting I leave already. “But I just got here!” I add, fully pouting about the fact that I can’t have the flipping dress I want.

“You can come back tomorrow and…” Lara’s eyes bulge as her bell shaped bot floats into the room. “Just go, please, Em.” She backs away, pushing the bot out with her.

“Fine! I’ll go!” I shout throughout the bridal shop. “But I don’t actually think I’ll come back tomorrow you know, Lolz!” I think I’m being serious too. She’s been so rude with me. I might actually cry right now because I don’t understand her insistence that I leave. I don’t mind getting out of the store to avoid her robot, but seriously, there are priorities that need dealing with. I don’t think I’m ever going to find the right dress in time. Not at this rate anyway. Not when my best friend won’t even let me stay a decent amount of time at her bridal shop.

“For f*ck sake.” I complain while getting dressed into my shorts and t-shirt. I’m so irritated now that I can’t even be bothered to put on Callum’s stupid long socks that I was so determined to wear this morning. Instead of strapping on my ankle and wrist weights, I shove them one by one into the socks. When the fabric starts to stretch from the weight, I double up the socks. As I depart the changing room, sock-bag of weights in hand, my good mood might be gone forever.

“I don’t know if I’ll come back tomorrow!” I bellow as I open the front door of the shop. There’s no reply from Lara and I don’t see her anywhere in the front rooms. “Whatever.” I step out of the shop and I’m tempted to honestly vow never to return.

***



Oh who am I kidding? Of course I’m coming back to Lara’s bridal shop tomorrow. I’ve got a wedding coming up and I don’t have a dress to wear for it. I’m not going to walk down the aisle wearing nothing, now am I? Besides, Lara is probably just on her period or something. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen her act like this. She’s been angry with things before, quite often actually. That’s just who she is. My best friend is easily annoyed by things. Although, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her being so strangely irritated. It’s something to do with that robot of hers, I’m sure of it—

My thoughts are abruptly halted as I round the street corner and run smack into Thomas. “I knew it!” I scream in his face. The lad gets a look of terror on his features, turns, and attempts to bolt.

“What is wrong with you?” I shout at him. Before I even know what’s happening next, the sock-bag of weights I’m holding has somehow flown out of my hand. Did I throw that? I’m not sure but however the long thing became airborne, it’s doing a great job of sailing through the air like a fat-headed sock-snake.

Splat!

The sock-bag makes contact with Thomas’ blonde head of hair. He goes down screaming and plants it face first into the hard pavement.

“Oh my god!” A woman shouts.

“Oh shit.” I mumble and move forward. “Thomas? Are you all right?”

The boy sits up and I notice there’s blood on his lower lip. “I’m fine!” He yells and jumps to his feet. “Will you go out on a date with me for lunch now?”

“What? No!” Bloody hell. This kid is insane.

“Are you sure you’re all right, lad?” This from the woman who’d shouted earlier. She seems to be checking Thomas over like a worried grandmother. “I saw what she did to you.” The woman looks up at me.

“All that she’s done to me is to steal my heart.”

Splatting my face into my palm I decide I’ve had enough of this. I bend and pick up my sock-bag full of weights. “This is the last time I’m going to tell you this, Thomas. If I see you again it’s going to be a bat to the head instead.”

The worried woman gasps at my threat. Thomas smiles as though I’ve just said something nice, which I haven’t, but in his mind god only knows what he’s capable of twisting my words into mentally.

As I turn on my heel and stomp off angrily up the street I’m even cursing the blank electric box as I walk on by. Why couldn’t Rolland the Wizard be sitting up there watching out for pavement traffic right now? Maybe he could have stopped the crazy lady that is me from chucking a sock full of weights at an innocent boy’s head.

Why is it that no matter how positive my days begin lately, they nearly always end in tears?