My Big Fat Low-Fat Wedding

chapter 6



Pain is me. That is all I am. Suffering is all I know.

“Argh, ohhh.” I awake nearly screaming. “My legs!”

“Over did it last night at the gym, did you?” Callum rolls over, smacks my bare bum and hops out of bed.

“Cal!” I rage at him. “That bloody hurt!”

“So have your revenge.” He flexes his fuzzy arse at me one butt cheek at a time. I’m in no mood for his shenanigans though and when I fail to give him a playful slap, he turns so that I’m now having to look directly up at his morning glory. “You’re really suffering, my darling?” Finally, he leans forward and kisses my forehead. “I’ll get you some paracetamol.”

And with that he whisks himself out of the bedroom.

The time it takes him to bring back a glass of water and painkillers seems like ages. I stare out the glass doors that lead out to the first floor balcony. The sky is clear, so it’s probably going to be a lovely sunshiny day. And it’s definitely going to be a blue sky day that I’m going to miss. There is absolutely no way I can get out of bed when I’m in this much pain.

“Here you go, my love.” Callum hands me a glass of water and two pills. Somehow, I manage to swallow them while lying on my side. “Wow,” my fiancé’s eyes go wide. “That was impressive.”

“What was?” I moan.

“Taking medicine while lying down, of course.” He sits on the edge of the bed and pushes my blonde hair back. “Another day off work for you today then.”

Finally, his words make me feel something other the agony that is my lower extremities. My bottom lip protrudes outwards and I frown. Damn Callum and his considerable nature. His sympathy always makes me feel worse.

“I really did overdo it at the gym last night.” My voice comes out very wobbly and if I don’t stop this self-pity-party right now I’m going to burst into tears like a baby. “I can’t leave the cafe to Anika and Fiona again though.”

“They’ll be fine, honey.” Callum kisses me on the forehead to avoid my morning breath. “Now get some rest and I’ll phone the cafe for you.”

I take his advice, sort of. I’m staying in bed but I’m not getting any rest. If the painkillers I took don’t kick in soon I’m never going to be able to sleep. And sleep is what I definitely need right now if my shredded leg muscles are ever going to heal.

Callum goes to work and I’m left staring out the window doors once again.

It’s only now that I realise I need to go for a wee. Due to indescribably painful leg trauma, I must have been unable to notice the pressure in my bladder until now that it’s positively bursting.

With many moans and groans I sit up. Latching my hands onto the top of the headboard, I pull myself upwards. Daring to move a muscle I shift one of my legs ever so slightly.

“Oohhh!” Ouch, that hurt.

I’m now in a very awkward position so I steel myself and push off the headboard.

“Eeeeee!” I wince in agony as the pain in my legs increases tenfold. I’m not going to lay back down though, if I do I’ll wet the bed.

Gritting my teeth harder than the woman at the gym did last night, I slide one sore leg out of bed. My foot hits the carpeted floor with a thunk, sending shockwaves of pain up through my leg as though it’s made of jelly.

Slowly, but agonizingly, I stand and creep towards the en-suite bathroom. Every step I take is sheer torture on my legs. It feels like I’ve done a lot more damage than just shredding the hell out of my muscles. I just know I must have torn some ligaments beneath my skin somewhere!

Gasping, I take a final step and cling to the bathroom doorframe. Only a few more steps and I’ll make it to the toilet. I can do this! I have to do this! I will not stand here and pee all down my own legs, even if I have heard that peeing in the shower is a terrific muscle relaxer!

With the last of my resolve I make it to the toilet and relieve my bladder of its liquid pressure. I end up going for such a hard wee that it hits the inner bowl and sounds like someone’s hosing down and elephant.

After wiping thoroughly I bend forward and tip myself off the toilet seat. I crawl back towards the bed and climb painfully onto the mattress. As I slide underneath the duvet I think the painkillers are finally starting to kick in. The pain in my legs subsides enough to allow me some sleep. As I doze off I can’t help wishing I’d just stayed in Kirsten’s Zumba class. At this point in my painful existence I’d welcome electrocution rather than the agony that’s caused from cycle shredding.

***



When I wake for the second time in the same day, it’s due to the fact that the painkillers have worn off. My legs are once again in full blown agony.

I’m tempted to ring up Callum and tell him to come home immediately so that he can take care of me. Actually, I’m tempted to saw my own legs off if it means relief from this burning pain!

The rest of my day goes on like this. I’m one big ball of suffering. I don’t dare move. Maybe this is what I deserve. This is what I get for thinking that I could just do a shred gym class randomly like that. Honestly! I think the universe is against me! Every time I try to do something in attempts at losing weight, it blows up in my face. Or in this case, blown up in my legs.

Finally, Callum comes home to find me a gasping heap of a messy woman. “Paracetamol now!” Is the first thing I shout at him as he enters the bedroom.

“Did you start your period while I was away?” Laughing, Callum heads back out of the room.

“How can you laugh at my pain?” I grumble at him when he returns. Swiping the two pills out of his hand I swallow them sideways again.

Cough!

The medicine is stuck in my chest!

“Damn it, Em,” Callum grabs the glass of water off the nightstand. “At least have some water with those pills.”

Banging my chest with a fist I’m trying to get the medicine to go down my oesophagus. I’m determined to never sit up again if it means my legs won’t scream with pain!

“Oh f*ck it.” I’m going to have to drink some water.

Callum kneels and helps me to sit up at least at a tolerable angle. I gulp down the contents of the entire glass that my fiancé tips to my lips. Crashing back down onto my pillow I sigh with momentary relief.

“I’m calling the GP.”

Callum stands up and fishes through the pocket of his trousers. His hand comes away with a phone in it and he starts dialling. After a heated conversation with the medical receptionist, all of her words of which I can hear, Callum finally explodes. “Look.” He grumbles down the phone line. “My fiancé can barely move and I demand a doctor visits her here immediately!”

“If you’re sure she can’t make it into the surgery.” I hear the receptionist’s whiney voice.

“Of course I’m sure!” Callum shouts. “I’ve been sure throughout this entirely useless conversation!”

I’d tell him to calm down, but I’m quite enjoying his chivalry.

Eventually, a doctor does come out to see me, but it’s at the end of a very painful day. He confirms that I’ve torn a muscle near my hamstring in my right leg and that I’ll need bed rest to heal.

Well, I could have guessed that. It’s not like I’m in any hurry to jump out of bed anyway.

The doctor leaves me with some faster acting painkillers that I’m grateful for.

“You heard the man, Em.” Callum sits beside me on the bed. “You get some rest, my love.”

The only words I can reply are mumbled sounds. “Mmmmm hmmmm.” My eyelids flutter closed. The doc did say the medicine I took could make me drowsy. I’m feeling so drowsy in fact that I barely notice when Callum slips out of bed.

Finally, I drift off into dreamland without an ounce of pain.

***



Days fly by. I think. I don’t know because I’m depressed. I think my legs are gradually on the mend, each time I wake, but I am one with pain now, so I prefer to dwell in my misery.

The nights all blend together as I sleep and wake. I’m pretty sure Callum helps me to the bathroom time after time. He also gets me to eat a bit when I can stomach the thought of food. I’m just so angry at my legs for failing me so catastrophically. I dread to think how much weight I’ll put on from having to lie around in bed!

I think a few days go by and I wake feeling okay in the legs. “Did I recently take some painkillers?” I mumble to Callum. It’s a bright Monday morning and he’s doing up his tie before heading to work.

“You ran out of pain medication days ago, honey.” He says. “Why, are your legs feeling better?”

What do I say to that? If Callum is being serious then it means my legs are indeed feeling a lot better. There’s barely a dull ache near my hamstring.

“You’ve been in bed for a week. I should think that’s enough time to heal.”

Now what did he just say? “I beg your pardon?”

Callum sniffs the air. “It’s okay love, I can’t smell your fart.”

“Oh you!” Sitting up all on my own I throw a pillow at him. “I didn’t ask for your pardon because I farted… which I didn’t! I asked you how long I’ve been in bed for.”

“A week!” Callum smiles, drops his tie and comes towards me. “And I’d say it was all the time you needed to mend your sexy legs.”

A week. I’ve been bed ridden for an entire week. “But I thought I’d just slept through the weekend.”

Callum sits next to me and wraps his arms around me. “You may not have farted just now, but you’ve definitely not had a bath in at least a week, love.”

I’m tempted to positively smother my fiancé with the last remaining pillow on the bed.

Unfortunately, he’s right. I reek.

Callum leaves for work and I phone Anika at the cafe. After she’s finished using big words from the English dictionary, she finally relents and decides to let me come back to work at my own cafe. Not before I’ve reassured her that my legs are much better though. Callum must have really expressed the pain I was in when he’d spoken to Anika during my bed ridden week.

I get the same idea when I look at all the text messages on my phone. Scrolling back in time I find the original text my darling fiancé sent to all my friends and family…

THIS IS CALLUM TEXTING FROM EMILY’S PHONE IN REQUEST THAT SHE NOT BE DISTURBED DURING HER ROAD TO RECOVERY, UPON PAIN OF DEATH.

Oh that’s just terrific. Apparently my betrothed had threatened to kill anyone who decided to bother me during my epic leg hurt week. That didn’t stop the text messages from rolling in though. There are about a million and one texts from Lara telling me I have to come back in for a dress fitting immediately!

That was a message from two days ago. They get more shouty in text the more recently I scroll up the timeline until Lara’s words screech at me in capital letters, just like Callum’s original threatening outgoing message.

I suppose Lara’s right. I do have an impending wedding to attend in just a matter of weeks. Why, I’m getting married to the most wonderfully caring man anyone could ever hope to be engaged to. I’m getting married. I’m having a wedding. I’ve been laid up for an entire week and I’m going to a bride soon.

So much time has wasted away so that my legs could heal!

Well, that’s all about to change. I’m determined to make up for lost time now. I’ve got so much to do. I’m getting married!

Whisking the duvet off my legs I’m stunned at the sight of them. My pins look amazing! So the trick to losing excess weight involves hard core exercise and then a week long sabbatical from life in bed. Somehow, I don’t think even seeing my legs looking slimmer is enough to convince me to ever again take a shred class.

Hopping out of bed isn’t perfect. I do wobble a bit, but at least there’s no pain involved on my walk to the bathroom.

Two hours later I’m out of the house and walking down the road. It took me quite some time to get myself and my bedroom tidied up after spending a solid week in its confines.

I’m refreshed and ready to go now though! Nothing’s going to stop me prepping everything that needs doing before my wedding day arrives.

***



Nothing will stop me walking down the aisle either. Not even the fact that I can’t seem to find a suitable dress at Lara’s bridal shop. I’ve been here for two hours already and I’ve probably tried on every dress in the store. I just can’t seem to find one that I like. All of the dresses are smooth and lovely, and I’m wearing some less uncomfortable control underwear, yet I still think I look odd when I stare at myself in the mirror.

“Now this has to be the one for you.” Lara gushes at me like a good dress sales lady. She’s been saying the same thing about every gown I’ve tried on though. I think she’s getting as fed up as I am.

“Oh, I don’t know.”

“Oh for god’s sake, Em!”

Yep. She’s definitely fed up. “What’s the problem this time?”

Frowning, I tilt my chin down. “I’m practically choking on my cleavage and this dress makes my hips look huge.” I don’t like the way I’m overly cinched in at the waist, it exacerbates my hourglass figure, and not in a good way.

“Right, that’s it then.” Lara heads out of the fitting area. “You stay right there and we’ll sort out a dress for you once and for all.”

When she returns her wedding bell shaped robot is floating behind her. “Keep that thing away from me.”

“Oh relax.” Lara presses the face of her phone and I presume she’s giving her robot some app instructions. “We’re not near any great bodies of water.”

She’s right. I don’t think there’s any chance of accidental electrocution. I’m still cautious though when Lara guides the robot towards me. “I’m just going to do some alterations.”

“With me in the dress?”

Lara nods and a funny looking sewing machine pops out of the bridal robot. It angles it’s dangerous looking device towards me and starts sewing and snipping away.

“Isn’t this great?” Lara seems excited. I, however, am not. I don’t see why she can’t wait until I’ve taken this bloody dress off to do the stitching bits on it.

The front door bell tinkles. “I’ll be right back.” Lara heads out of the room.

“You can’t just leave me alone with this machine, Lolz!”

“You’ll be fine,” she replies with a wave of her hand upon leaving.

Fantastic. Now I’m left with one of these horrible robots as it zips and whirrs all around the dress I’m wearing. I feel tugging around the skirt area and when the robot’s sewing mechanism rises up onto the bodice of my gown, I start to quiver with fear. Lifting my arms I watch in the mirror as the lace covered bot sews in stitches on the upper corset part of my dress. I’m holding as still as I can. The robot’s sewing device contains sharp needles and small blades for cutting away string and fabric.

Why oh why did I agree to let this thing near me? Any minute now it’s probably going to malfunction and stab me to death! I’m going to die by accidental slicing this time and I think I’d much prefer gentle electrocution by drowning!

“There we go, all done.”

Lara has returned and the robot is gently hovering by her side. All signs of torture device looking sewing apparatus have disappeared back into its bell surface.

“It’s finished?”

“It certainly is. What do you think, Em?”

Looking up, I glance into the mirrors that line the walls of the fitting room. “It’s a bit better…”

I’m about to say more when Lara practically rages at me. “Fine, you don’t like it.” She stomps toward me. “Just take it off and I’ll order in a new batch of dresses for you to try on.”

“But, Lolz—”

“No.” She cuts me off. “Just turn around so I can untie the sash… oh my god.”

“Oh my god what?” When there’s no response from my best friend, I try to see where she’s looking.

“That damn robot.” Lara turns and I glance her way. “Where has it gone?”

She’s right. Where has the bridal bot gone? And why is its presence so important?

Just then, my phone rings. I take it out from between my boobs where I’d stuffed it before trying on dresses. “Hello, Anika?” I say, as soon as I pick up the call. “Is everything all right?”

“Boss lady!” Anika’s voice blares into my ear. “Your robot! It is destroying the cafe!”

My robot? My eyes glaze over as sounds of catastrophe blast out from the phone. “Get yourself and Fiona out of there right now, Anika!” I screech. “I’ll be there in two seconds. Lara, get me out of this dress!”

“I can’t.”

She what? “Anika,” I shout into the phone again. “Are you and Fiona safely out of the cafe now?”

“Yes boss lady! And the robot is gone!”

I can’t believe this is happening, and why isn’t Lara untying my sash? “I’m phoning the police now and I’ll be there shortly, like I said.” I ring off and shove the phone into my boobs again. “Lara? Did you hear that? I’ve got to go! Help me out of this dress right now!”

“I can’t.”

Glancing at her reflection in the mirror first, I whirl around. “What do you mean, you can’t?”

Lara has placed her hands over her mouth and her eyes look worried. “Oh, Emily I’m so sorry but that f*cking robot has sewn you into that dress!” She wails. “It’s going to take me hours to cut you out!”

Oh. My. F*cking. F*ck. “Tell me you’re joking, Lolz.” I try shifting and pulling the corset top, but that only hurts my ribs so I stop squirming immediately.

All Lara does is shake her head, once again plastering her fingers worriedly over her mouth.

“Argh!” I rage. “This can’t be happening!” Jumping down off the low pedestal, I stuff my feet into my trainers and run out of the fitting room. Lara bustles by my side, apologising like a crazy lady.

“It’s fine, Lolz,” I tell her as I approach the front door of the shop. “You can cut me out of this dress when I get back.”

“I’m coming with you!”

Lara locks up her shop and helps me bundle the skirts of my dress into my arms. Together, we run along the road and up the street towards my cafe. I get a few strange looks from passers-by who are probably wondering why there’s a bridal gown wearing woman dashing along the street in her trainers. As soon as we get near my cafe though, all eyes are focused on the scene unfolding before us.

Police cars have driven in from everywhere. Some are parked up on the curb as a fire truck engine tries to make its way down the narrow street. “Anika!” I wave to my colleague and drop half my bridal skirts. After picking up armfuls of tulle once again, I head to the front entrance of my cafe.

“Boss lady!” Anika is talking to an officer. “The rendQrség do not believe me when I tell of the robot’s rampage!”

The rendQrség? Oh! I think that’s Hungarian for police. Or maybe it’s a word to describe the uncooperative. I for one second don’t doubt that a robot did the damage I can see through the cafe widows.

My darling personally owned cafe is in tatters. I’m surprised none of the windows were smashed because even from here I can see that every table and chair inside has been over turned.

Similarly, as I stand here dressed like an out of place bride, my whole world feels over turned.

***



I spend the next thirty minutes talking with the police. I know they don’t believe Anika’s story about the rampaging oven robot, I can see the distrust in their beady eyes. Okay so admittedly not all of the officers have beady eyes, but there’s definitely one lackey who’s eyes are much too close together for my liking.

The opposite of Oliver’s bulging eyes.

Damn that Oliver and his malfunctioning robots. I don’t know how he’s gotten funding from CoTechnic to make so many of his disastrous machines!

Finally, Beady Eyes lets me go and I immediately call Callum. He’s here in a matter of minutes and together we all trudge inside my cafe to inspect the damage.

I’m overwhelmed with despair. Chaos reigns inside my once quaint tea shop and deli. Kicking my way through the rubble that has become the kitchen floor, I try not to snap mentally. Actually, I don’t know whether to shout in anger or cry my eyes out. It’s as though I’m emotionally numb.

“You look beautiful, honey.” Callum is the only one with me in the kitchen. Anika, Fiona and Lara are trying to turn all the tables upright in the dining area.

“I’m glad you like the dress.” I reply to my fiancé. “Because apparently I’m going to be stuck wearing it for the rest my life.”

Callum frowns questioningly just as Lara bursts into the kitchen. “I’m so sorry, Emily!” She gushes again and again. Frantically, she searches the countertop with her hands. When she comes up gripping a pair of meat cutting scissors I back away slowly.

“Chill out, Lolz,” I tell her. “I was only joking. You can cut me out of this dress later.”

“You seem to be taking this all very well, boss lady.” Anika has joined us. She’s standing in the door way. Tears are streaming down her cheeks.

“Oh, Anika come here!” Dropping my billowing bridal skirts I go to her and squash her into my overflowing bosom. “I’m so sorry you had to deal with that monster robot tearing up the place.” Putting her at arm’s length, I turn to Callum. “Did you manage to find, Oliver?”

My fiancé shakes his head. “No, but I’m going to hunt him down tomorrow… I mean… I’ll find him after we’ve sorted out your cafe, darling.”

And that does me in. There isn’t a joke in the world that could numb the pain I’m feeling. It’s always Callum and his bloody sympathy that ends up breaking my inner damn of built up tears. I collapse into Anika’s arms and the two of us sob into the night. Well, we would have done if Fiona, Callum and Lara hadn’t intervened.

Eventually I end up at Lara’s bridal shop once again, with Callum this time. I never would have expected that my groom-to-be would enter such a place, after all, the man isn’t supposed to see the bride before the wedding. Considering the circumstances of being physically sewn into a dress though, my fiancé’s presence is most welcome.

At first I’m thinking I’ll be here for hours while Lara carefully unstitches all the thread her robot sewed onto the dress I’m wearing, but I’m shocked out of my mind when Lara grabs a huge pair of gleaming sharp scissors from a drawer. She tells me to hold still as she enters the dress with the shears from just under my armpit.

“Are you mad?” I mumble to her.

“Don’t worry, if I slice this baby just right I’ll be able to sew it back up along the seam.” Lara frowns in concentration. “The most important thing is to get you out of this bloody dress right now!”

I’m not going to argue with her. I know it will cost her thousands of pounds if she’s unable to sew this dress back up, but I have every confidence in her skills as a seamstress. Besides, after the day I’ve had I’m in no mood to sit here for hours just to be unstitched from a dress.

A matter of minutes later and Callum and I have pulled our respective cars into our driveway. “Don’t worry, babe,” Callum says, opening my driver door. “We’ll sort out your cafe in the morning, everything’s going to be fine.”

He’s been reassuring me like this since he showed up at the disaster scene. He’s right. Nothing imperative was broken at the cafe, it’s just needs quite a bit of tidying up and everything will be sorted.

“You shouldn’t think for a minute that the wedding needs to be postponed.”

I wasn’t thinking that at all actually and as I hop out of the car I’m wondering where such a statement came from. When he offers to carry me inside again though, I’m relieved he’s managed to retain such a jovial attitude.

Sighing loudly I head upstairs once we’re inside. I snort a laugh as Callum follows me. “You’d think after sleeping for a week I’d never be tired again,” I yawn. “I’m knackered though.”

“You’ve been through a lot, honey, I don’t blame you.” Callum nuzzles my neck after we head into the bedroom. I take one look at the bed that I did indeed just spend a solid week lying in, and I head right back out the door.

Pounding down the stairs Callum once again follows me. I plop onto the sofa in the front room and lay on my side. “I’m sleeping here tonight.”

I don’t even hear my fiancé’s reply, even though I’m sure he said something. I’m too worn out mentally. I zonk out in the blink of an eye and I’m hoping my dreams bring me some sense of relief from an unbelievably catastrophic day.