Diary of a Mad Fat Girl

by Stephanie McAfee

  “Spray the grass?” I ask, looking at her like she’s crazy.

  “Yes, you know that green stuff out on the lawn,” she says pointing, “all of it. But don’t get any on the shrubs,” she says. “The landscapers will be here any minute to excavate those.”

  “You’re taking the shrubs?” Lilly asks, joining us.

  “I’d take the bricks if I could get them loose,” she says and turns to crawl up the ladder, then stops. “I thought I’d get this done before Richard gets released from the hospital because I’m afraid if we have another confrontation,” she stops. “I’m afraid I might kill him.” She looks at me, then Lilly. “I have so much anger, so much hate.”

  I think she’s about to cry so I start trying to think up something funny to say, but she pulls herself back together and continues, “Lilly would you come up here and help me throw this stuff down from the attic?”

  “Sure,” Lilly says, “absolutely, Chloe, anything you need.”

  “Do you think it’s too much to spray the yard?” she looks down at me with those big brown eyes.

  “Oh, hell no!” I exclaim and pick up the weed killer. “I think it’s the best idea ever!”

  “Do you really?” she asks, smiling. “When I had the idea, I was thinking that you would be proud of me for coming up with that.”

  “Oh yeah, Chloe,” I say, “when you told me, I was standing down here thinking that I couldn’t have come up with a better idea if I’d thought about it for a week.”

  “Really?” she asks.

  “Really!” I say. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

  I pick up the weed killer and Lilly starts climbing the stairs. She looks back at me with a questioning look and I shrug, point my spray gun at her, and mouth the words “bang bang.”

  I’m in the backyard spraying weed killer on Chloe’s perfectly manicured lawn when I hear shouting in the front yard. I run around the side of the house and see that bridge troll, Bobbie Sue Stacks, shouting at Chloe with her finger in her face. I make it to the sidewalk just as three moving men step out onto the front porch.

  “Everything okay, Mrs. Stacks?” one of the men shouts.

  “You stop right now!” the elder Mrs. Stacks shouts back. “This stuff belongs to my son!”

  “Everything is fine, gentlemen,” says the younger Mrs. Stacks, “please continue moving everything from the house into the van. Thank you.” She smiles that sweet smile of hers and the moving man tips his hat and says, “Back to work guys.”

  “I said for you to cease and desist immediately,” Mrs. Bobbie Sue Stacks screams.

  “With all due respect ma’am, I don’t know who you are and I don’t want to be rude, but if you would stop shouting at my crew and me right about now, that would be great.”

  “You gather up that crew and get out of here,” Bobbie Sue yells, walking toward him. “And you,” she stops when she sees me and starts waving that fat, crooked finger, “You are the reason for this entire mess!”

  “Me?” I say and look at Chloe, who is motioning the moving men back to work.

  “Hey, Bobbie Sue,” Chloe says and when Bobbie Sue Stacks turns around, Chloe hauls off and slaps the ever-loving shit out of her. Bobbie Sue staggers back and opens her mouth to say something, but Chloe grabs her by the collar and pulls her up close to her face. I get so excited that I almost pass out right there on the sidewalk.

  “Bobbie Sue, I’m leaving Richard and there is not one damn thing you can do about it. Now if you want to play dirty, I can play dirty too, but you might want to run over to the hospital and speak with Richard before you start that fight, because last night when he signed the divorce papers giving me everything but the house-”

  “My Richard would never sign anything over to you,” Bobbie Sue snarls.

  “Oh, but your Richard did,” Chloe says, “now get your ass out of here before I take it upon myself to make your son’s dirty laundry public knowledge and trust me you old hag, there is plenty of it.”

  For some reason Bobbie Sue looks at me, so I give her the finger.

  “You will pay dearly for this-” she hisses to Chloe.

  “I won’t pay for a fucking thing,” Chloe says, “and if you threaten me one more time, I’ll make what I did to Richard looks like child’s play compared to what I’m about to do to you!” Chloe takes a step toward her and Bobbie Sue takes a step back. “Now get the hell out of here or you will pay in ways you never thought possible.” She looks at me, “Ace, do you still have those pictures of Rich from the strip club?”

  “That and so much more,” I chirp, delighted to be involved in the conversation.

  “Would you like to see those?” Chloe asks, pushing Bobbie Sue backward. “Or would you like to leave?”

  “I’ll leave,” Bobbie Sue Stacks stammers, “but you’ll hear from my lawyers.”

  “Will I?” Chloe says, getting in her face. “Will I?”

  “No,” she mumbles, “no you won’t.” And Bobbie Sue Stacks scurries to her Lexus and drives away.

  I look around and see faces in almost every window of the surrounding houses. Peepers everywhere, but no one dares to venture outside. I guess they don’t feel like tangling with a three man team of crazy women.

  “Now,” Chloe says, turning to me, “back to work.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I say, tickled pink that finally, after missing in action for over eleven years, the real Chloe is back on the scene.

  “What are you going to do with all this stuff?” Lilly asks, eyeballing the stacks of boxes in the carport.

  “Well, I’m keeping most of it for my new project.”

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  “I’m starting a shelter for battered women,” she says, “with Richard’s 401K money.”

  I can’t help but laugh. The irony never ends.

  “You need some help?” Lilly asks. “Seeing as how I’m unemployed.”

  “You’ll get your job back,” Chloe says definitively and looks from me to Lilly and back. “We are all going to be just fine.”

  “I hope so,” Lilly says and doesn’t sound convinced.

  “Well, I’ve got grass to kill,” I say and start spraying.

  44

  It’s almost dark when I get back home and I haven’t heard from Mason since I dropped him off at Ethan’s. When I open the gate, Buster Loo bursts out the doggie door so I get down and roll around with him for a while. He pulls the pony tail holder out of my hair and we waller around in the grass, then he runs and get his rubber starfish and we play a game of speedy-dog fetch.

  On the third throw, he disappears into a cluster of shrubs and I’m about to go inside when I hear a truck pulling up in my driveway. I can tell from the rumble that it’s Ethan Allen Harwood.

  I step around the house and see that Mason is with him, so I shake off like dog in an effort to get rid of some of the grass trimmings that are most certainly stuck all over me.

  “Good Lord, Ace,” Ethan says, getting out of his truck, “you been doin’ yard work on all fours?”

  They laugh and I smile because, what else could I do?

  “Come here,” Mason says, motioning, “check this out.”

  I look in the back of Ethan’s truck and see the biggest grill I have ever laid eyes on.

  “What is that?” I ask.

  “This, my dear lady,” Ethan says, “is your new grill.”

  “Is it my birthday or were you two planning on roasting a buffalo?”

  “We’re going to have a cook-out,” Mason says, smiling, “to celebrate!”

  “It’s Tuesday.”

  “Who cares, it’s not like any of y’all have jobs,” Mason laughs.

  “Ha ha, Mason,” I say dryly, “your comedic genius is overwhelming.”

  Ethan drops his tailgate and they both hop in the back of the truck and grab that gargantuan grill by its stainless steel handles.

  “Are we going to invite anyone or will it just be the three of us and the dog?”


  “Already got that taken care of, baby. Everybody will be here in about an hour,” Mason says and winks at me and I think I might faint. “Ethan, we’re gonna need a fork lift to get this thing outta this truck.”

  “Naw, we don’t,” he says, walking around to the driver’s side, “just hold it steady there for a minute.”

  “Are you for real?” I ask Mason.

  He pulls me up close to him and gives me a short, but very hot kiss. “I told you what my plan was the first day I got here,” he whispers and squeezes my ass. “So you better believe I’m for real.”

  “Hold it steady,” Ethan yells and the tailgate of his truck slides out and then slowly down toward the ground.

  “Holy shit!” Mason hollers and puts both hands on the grill. “Look at this!”

  Ethan walks back to where we are, glowing with that special look of pride that comes from a man receiving a compliment on his truck. He and Mason set the grill onto my driveway and Mason rolls through the gate and into the backyard.

  “Now this right here is what I call I grill,” Ethan says as he and Mason take turns twisting knobs and admiring features.

  “What’s wrong the one I have?” I ask, looking over at my knee high charcoal grill. Ethan shakes his head while Mason rolls his eyes.

  “Well, I gotta run,” Ethan says. “Can I leave him here with you without you trying to smother him with perfume?”

  I gawk at Mason, then at Ethan.

  “Is nothing sacred anymore?” I ask.

  Ethan laughs and takes off toward his truck.

  “Mason,” I ask, looking at the grill, “what the hell?”

  “You needed a grill.”

  “Says who?”

  “Says me,” he takes me by the hand. “C’mon, baby, take me to the grocery store.”

  “Just take my car,” I say, tossing him the keys. “I’ve gotta get a shower because I’ve been spraying weed killer all day.”

  “Weed killer?”

  “Yes, I covered the lawn at Stacks’ residence while movers emptied the house.”

  “Yeah, I heard about that,” he says and smiles while Buster Loo jumps and bounces and whines at his feet.

  “I’m sure you did,” I smile at him. “Hey, take Buster Loo with you before he has some kind of brain stroke and has to be put in a psychiatric hospital for dogs.”

  “I’d love to!” Mason says and Buster Loo, as if understanding the exchange, races over to the gate and starts clawing at it like he’s trying to land a part in Shawshank Redemption for Chiweenies. Mason gives me a quick hug and whispers, “Good to have the family back together again.”

  “Nutty as they might be,” I say, not willing to admit I was thinking the same thing.

  “She can speak for herself can’t she?” Mason says and Buster Loo starts barking his fool head off. “See,” Mason says, picking up the little dog, “he agrees with me.”

  45

  Two hours after the arrival of my new grill, cars line the street and my back yard is packed with folks drinking beer and eating hot dogs. Deputy Dax shows up with Lilly and he’s acting all funny and weird like he feels out of place. I make a point to make him feel at home and instruct Mason and Ethan to do the same and he loosens up a little. He gets back to his usual self when Sheriff Jackson shows up and starts carrying on about some bizarre incident they witnessed at a road block.

  I look around and see Chloe making her way toward J.J. Jackson. I smile to myself when I realize how happy she must be to finally be rid of ol’ pork chop Dick Richard. Lilly comes up and gives me a big hug and tells me how great the party is.

  “Don’t I always have great parties?” I ask her.

  “That you do, my friend,” she says.

  “Hey,” I say, nodding toward Deputy Dax, “How’d you pull that off?”

  “Well, it’s not so much the how as the what,” she smiles, “and, you know, I used to be an underwear model and all and that ol’ girl, well, let’s just say she’s not on my level,” she pauses, looks over at Deputy Dax and sighs. “I just went over there and ran her off. And after she left, I did what I had to do to convince him that I am what he needs.”

  “Really? Well, good job on that, sister,” I say and she’s smiling from ear to ear like a goon. “Lilly, please tell me that he doesn’t have a list.”

  “He didn’t till he dumped me,” she laughs, “but don’t worry, I threw it away. And I’m not going to show him the notebook.”

  “You have got to stop that crap,” I tell her. “That damned book of yours needs to be burned.”

  “What needs to be burned?” Dax asks, sneaking up behind us. He wraps a beefy arm around Lilly’s thin waist and she smiles and bats her eyelashes like a school girl.

  “Those wieners don’t need to burn,” I say quickly and run over to where Mason is standing by the grill.

  “By the way,” I ask as he flips the dogs, “what are we celebrating?”

  “Success, baby,” he says. “Because I accomplished everything I came up here to do.” He closes the grill cover and looks at me. “Chloe’s divorce will be final in a few weeks, Lilly just signed a three year contract with Bugtussle School District-”

  “Three year contract?” I interrupt. “Since when does a high school teacher get a three year contract?”

  “Since Mason McKenzie came to town, babe.”

  “Oh, you are too much.”

  “Am I?” he says, giving me a quick smooch. “Am I?”

  I squeal with laughter and he takes my hand and pulls me into the house.

  “Hey, baby,” he says, smiling, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

  “Yeah,” I say.

  “Been meaning to ask you for a while now.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Do you really wanna know?”

  “I really wanna know, Mason.”

  “How bad?”

  “Really bad.”

  “Really, really bad?”

  “Really, really, really and truly bad,” I say.

  “Okay then,” he says and pulls a small, felt box out of his pocket. I get a little dizzy and start thinking that this is it. This is the day that I will finally pass out and die for real. He gets down on one knee, and I feel the sting of oncoming tears.

  “Ace Jones, will you marry me?”

  “Why, yes, Mason McKenzie,” I say and tell myself to keep breathing. “I do believe I will!”

  He slides the ring on my finger, kisses my hand, and smiles.

  “Finally!” he says.

  “Finally!” I say.

  The End

  SPECIAL THANKS:

  To Brandon, for constantly reassuring me that I wasn’t out of my mind for trying to do this and for patiently allowing me all the time I needed to get it done. To Mandi, original list maker and co-conspirator in the root beer shenanigan, for entertaining the character of Gloria Peacock for so many years. To Molly, for still being friends with us after the root beer shenanigan. To Sandy, for willingly accompanying me on many a wild adventure and consistently blaming me for any and every consequence thereafter. To Tina, my impromptu editor, for stepping in at a moment’s notice and doing an unbelievable job on such an arduous task. Thank you all so much for the support and inspiration.