All About Me

by Marcia King-Gamble

  I had been comfortable buffered by all that fat. It permitted me to be funny and act as if nothing bothered me, as a fat person it was acceptable to clown around. I’d initially put on all that weight to keep men away from me, that was before I discovered the chubby chasers of the world.

  “Tell the truth,” I said, “People are more attracted to the skinny me.”

  “Not me, sugar. Is that why you’re not eating?”

  He’d noticed.

  “No, I’m just not hungry.”

  Quen gave me another of his soulful looks. I’d set my spoon aside and given up trying.

  He leaned across the table and covered my hand.

  “I agreed to work with you because I liked you and was concerned about your health. I didn’t want what happened to my sister to happen to you.” Quen held up a finger before I could interrupt. “I’m worried, sugar. You’re losing too much weight and all in a short space of time.”

  He liked me. He was concerned. That’s all I focused on. I’d given this man my heart and would gladly give him my soul. I wanted to be skinny for him. It’s what he liked, or at least that’s what I thought he liked.

  “Something’s wrong,” Quen probed. “You used to be a real fireplug and good with comebacks. Your over-the-top personality was what attracted me to you.”

  A female voice interrupted.

  “Hey, Quen are we on for tomorrow?”

  I looked up to see a woman whom I’d seen at the gym giving him one of those slit-eyed looks that said, “I want to lay with you.” She had a toned body that shouted “gym rat.” I wasn’t worth her time so she ignored me.

  “Yes, we have a ten o’clock session,” Quen said, smiling back.

  The woman stood there longer than she should, making a feeble attempt at conversation, and excluding me. Finally she left.

  “I want to look just like her,” I announced when she was gone.

  Quen shook his head. “You can’t,” he said bluntly. “You’re a different body type.”

  I wasn’t sure how to take that. He was attracted to my over the top personality? Did that mean he didn’t find me pretty? I didn’t need him to know how insecure I was so I refused to ask. I did need to know about Joya though.

  “Has your ex been in touch with you?” I asked switching the conversation.

  Quen scrunched up his nose. “Yes, she’s called a couple of times primarily with questions about the apartment. How to put the lights on timers, work the Jacuzzi tub that kind of thing. She’s asked me to come over to show her how to use one thing or another but I’ve always refused. The closest I’ve come is having coffee with her.”

  What about inviting her over to your apartment?

  Quen finished up the grouper sandwich that he’d ordered and stared at the soup in my bowl.

  “Sure you don’t want something else, sugar?”

  I shook my head. What I wanted to do was go home and fall into bed. I was so sleepy and tired. Lately my hands had taken to shaking.

  Quen kept a hand on the small of my back as he steered me from the restaurant. On the way out he got flagged down by a bunch of skinny women.

  “I’ll see you Monday,” one said

  “If you’re going to Tamika’s party will you save a dance for me?”

  “Can you work up some menus for me, Quen?”

  And you wonder why I was feeling insecure and why I needed to get the weight off?

  Quen drove home with one hand on the wheel and the other around my shoulders. When we got to Jen’s building he walked with me to the elevator and saw me to my door. He refused to come in.

  “Sorry, hon. I have a busy day ahead of me tomorrow. Remember we’re meeting earlier than our normal. Five o’clock not six.”

  I nodded my head. I’d almost forgotten about our jogging date. I was dragging and needed my sleep. Then Quen gave me a quick kiss on the lips and hightailed it out of there.

  Feeling as if I’d been abandoned, I closed and double locked the door, went into the bathroom and began stripping off clothes. Before I got into bed I set the alarm and popped another diet pill. For a long time I lay there thinking about everything Quen had said to me that evening.

  Had he been real? Had I changed that much? Was it really my personality that did it for him? And in the back of my mind I couldn’t help wondering if he was still in love with Joya and whether they were attempting to work things out.

  I must have drifted off because the next thing I remembered was a loud noise in my ear. I rolled over, slapped off the alarm clock and dragged myself from bed. Feeling dizzy I stumbled into the bathroom and splashed water on my face but that didn’t help with the queasiness.

  I managed to make it out the front of my building at the specified time, just seconds before Quen came jogging up.

  “Hi, sugar. Sleep well?” he asked, running in place.

  I grunted. He was used to me not being talkative in the mornings. We began to stretch and bend, warming up. My thoughts were now on what I had to accomplish today. Ida’s friend, the old lady was coming around and wanted to talk to me about leasing her place with option to buy. I needed to hotfoot it over there before she changed her mind.

  Jen and I also had plans to work on the Sunday column. That meant she would have me reading more than my quota of letters; only the most out there ones would get published. I’d also promised Sheena to go to the movies with her later and I had paperwork yet to complete. A client had made a ridiculous offer, and it was my job to go through the motions of presenting that offer to the seller although I already knew it would be turned down.

  I clapped on my headphones and Quen and I started a slow jog toward the boardwalk. I was still foggy and I put it down to being half awake.

  Few people were out and about at that hour except for the enterprising vendors getting an early start. There were the usual assortment of hawkers selling newspapers, coffee, Danish and bagels. The air off the ocean was still cool and semirevived me. I got a second wind and I jogged alongside Quen for at least ten minutes without saying a thing.

  Why did I feel so sluggish and slightly out of it? Why was my heart racing and why had a knot settled in my chest? The blur ahead of me was the board-walk slowly rising to meet my feet. I couldn’t make my limbs move another inch. And although I wanted to sit down, pride got the best of me. All I remember is blackness settling in.

  “Chere talk to me, say something, sugar.” Quen’s voice came from far away.

  A hand was on my wrist, feeling for something. A high-pitched wailing filled my ears that reminded me of a kettle. Something cold clamped over my nose and mouth. The lump on my chest lifted and now I could breathe more easily. I was on a bed strapped in tight and shoved into the back of a vehicle that reminded me of a Brink’s truck.

  “I’m coming with her,” a man’s voice insisted.

  My brain was scrambled. I was being taken somewhere against my will. I tried to get into a seated position but some invisible force held me back. I wanted to ask questions but even my voice failed me. I was being held captive by a force I couldn’t see.

  “Sugar?”

  Quen’s voice in my ear. His hand on mine. Blackness again.

  I woke up in strange room and in a comfortable bed. I felt the quiet.

  “Look who’s awake,” a woman in a pink dress said.

  I struggled up. “Where the hell am I?”

  A cool palm stroked my forehead. “You’re in the hospital, love.”

  “How did I get here?”

  The nurse filled me in. She said I’d collapsed while jogging. Quen panicked thinking it was a heart attack and called 911. I was now being kept for observation and I’d been scheduled for testing.

  “I need to talk to Quen,” I said. “I have a job. I’m scheduled to go into the paper today. What about my friend, Sheena, we’re meeting up later? Hell, I have a bunch of things to do.”

  “You have nothing to do today except lie here and rest. Your boyfriend notified whoever needed to
know that you were in the hospital. Our phones have been ringing off the hook and your friend’s been driving the nurses and doctors crazy. He refuses to go home until he speaks with you.”

  “Isn’t he sweet.”

  “You hooked a good one, lady. And trust me I have seen them all.”

  “Please I’d like to see him.”

  Seeing Quen would help reassure me I would be all right. His presence would comfort me.

  “You can see your boyfriend for five minutes,” the nurse said. “Let me find him.” She straightened the covers on the bed and left. I didn’t bother telling her Quen was not my boyfriend.

  I must have drifted off because what jolted me awake was a rough palm in my hand. My eyes flew open.

  “Quen!”

  “How are you feeling, sugar?”

  Words failed me. Were there tears in his eyes or was it just my imagination.

  “What happened?” I wanted to hear it from his mouth. I trusted him.

  “One moment you were jogging alongside me, the next you were on the ground,” he said.

  “I remember feeling weird.”

  “You must not be eating or taking your vitamins. What does the doctor say?”

  “I don’t know I haven’t seen him yet.”

  “Hmm.”

  I didn’t want to talk about food or the lack of it.

  “Did you call Jen and let her know I wouldn’t be in today?” I asked.

  “It’s all taken care of. You have nothing to worry about just concentrate on getting your rest.”

  My eyelids were heavy again. Must be the medication or whatever was dripping into my arm. Quen squeezed my hand and I squeezed his back. I closed my eyes and began to relax.

  “You’ve had your five minutes,” the nurse said bustling back in and shooing Quen out.

  “No, please let him stay…”

  I felt a moist kiss on my forehead. “I’ll be back later, sugar.”

  And even though I was half asleep, I knew the minute when he left the room because I immediately felt his loss.

  I had one helluva problem. I was in love with a man who didn’t love me back.

  Chapter 18

  The next day I was still in the hospital and I was starting to get scared and frustrated. No one would tell me a thing. The standard answer was, “Let’s just wait until the results of your tests come back.”

  Not good enough I wanted to know. If I was dying I wanted to know. Now.

  Meanwhile I had a steady stream of visitors. Sheena stopped by to see what I wanted and to tell me she and Manny were still going strong. She was also going strong with Dickie Dyson. Knowing Sheena she was getting something more substantial from these guys other than sex.

  Jen came by to tell me not to worry, that she’d hired a temp from an agency to fill in and all I needed to do was concentrate on getting better. Even Ian Pendergrass came by to see how I was doing and tell me my job was secure. I might be sick but I wasn’t stupid. I used that opportunity to hit him up for a raise. And I got it. Now I had gone over Luis Gomez’s head.

  Quen, to my surprise, stopped by on his way to work with a huge bouquet of pink roses for me. They were sitting in a black lacquer vase on the dresser. I still couldn’t quite figure the guy out.

  I’d finished showering and was eating a clear bowl of broth and some tasteless Jell-O when Joya came rushing in. She was carrying a card in one hand and a huge teddy bear in the other. She was the last person I wanted to see.

  “I came as soon as I heard you were in the hospital,” she said, plopping the fat potbelly bear in the ridiculous miniskirt, mesh stockings and platform shoes on my bed. When she squeezed the bear’s paw, it began singing an old Supremes song in Diana Ross’s voice. I wasn’t sure whether to thank her or cry. Dressed in its ridiculous getup, the poor thing looked like me in my heavier days. If I truly had that bad fashion sense people weren’t laughing with me but at me.

  I managed to thank her. I had to believe Joya meant well.

  She sank into the chair across from my bed. “What’s the doctor saying?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know yet. Not until the tests come back. The nurses say I’m supposedly undernourished.”

  “Then get off the diet. Trust me, thin isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” She laughed but her huge gray eyes were filled with compassion. When she glanced at the dresser and my roses, her expression changed.

  “Who’d you get roses from?”

  I took a deep breath, got myself centered and told her.

  “Quen sent you flowers?”

  “Yes, it’s not the first time he has.”

  “Hmm!”

  What the hell did hmm mean?

  “How are you liking your apartment?” I asked trying to be nice and wanting to steer her off the topic.

  “It suits my purposes for now.”

  Her eyes were on my roses again. She got out of the chair and crossed over to the dresser, staring closely at the dozen long stemmed pink roses in an expensive vase. She sniffed them and then fingered the petals.

  “The card’s still here,” Joya said. “In the envelope.”

  “I never even saw it.”

  I’d been asleep when the flowers arrived and they’d been set down on the bureau.

  She flipped the envelope at me. I caught it with shaking hands and opened the envelope.

  No one’s sweeter in the world than you, sugar. Get well soon. I miss you.

  Quen

  There was no one in the world sweeter than him.

  My eyes filled with tears. They trickled down my cheeks. Joya handed me a tissue.

  “You’re in love with Quen, aren’t you?” she said.

  No point in lying it had to be written all over my face.

  “Yes, I’m in love with him. He’s been wonderful to me.”

  “Quen is very lovable and he’s a romantic, too.”

  I had to ask. “If you feel that way why did you divorce him?”

  Joya sat back down again. Her fingers pinched her chin. “I’ve often asked myself that very question. But the truth of the matter is we weren’t very compatible. I wanted to go and see the world whereas Quen loves Flamingo Beach. It still provides him with everything he wants.”

  “Is that such a bad thing to love your home?”

  I was thinking about the men I knew and some of the nasty things they did, like molest young children and force them to do awful things, and then warn them not to tell adults. If this was the only fault Quen had—and I didn’t see it as a fault—I would take it.

  Joya continued. “I wanted the best for Quen because I believe the only way we can overcome is to make something of ourselves. Education is key.”

  Was that a swipe she’d just taken at Quen.

  “But Quen did make something of himself,” I said.

  “Now he has. I kept pushing him to do something outside of that gym. Get a degree in something that paid real money. He didn’t do that until I left him.”

  It was interesting to hear Joya’s side of things. What she wanted for Quen didn’t seem unreasonable to me, how she went about it might have been the issue. Maybe I had misjudged her.

  She stood. “You’re tired and I’ve taken up enough of your time. Call me if you need anything.” I thanked her. She surprised me by leaning over and kissing my cheek. “Take care, Chere.”

  She left me with a lot to think about. I held Quen’s card in my hand staring at it, and trying to figure out if there was some hidden meaning behind his words. Maybe it was just the kind of note a brother would send to his sister.

  Later that day Dr. Maxwell Benjamin came in to see me.

  “Your results are back,” he said, scrutinizing the clipboard in his hand. I held my breath waiting. “Why didn’t you tell me you were taking diet pills?”

  “You asked if I was taking medication. Diet pills aren’t prescription drugs, at least mine aren’t.”

  “But they do have enough caffeine in them to hot-wire a horse. You’
re dehydrated, undernourished and your blood pressure is way above normal.”

  My stomach fluttered and my hands went ice cold. “How long do I have to live?”

  Dr. Benjamin looked at me, startled. He threw back his head and roared. “You’ve gone cold turkey for two days. Just forget the pills and you’ll lessen the risk of having a heart attack or stroke. Develop good eating habits and continue to exercise.”

  “When can I get out of here?” I pleaded.

  Dr. Ben looked at me over the top of his glasses. “We’ve already started pumping nutrients into you. As soon as we can agree that you’ll eat well-balanced meals and get your energy level back, you’re free.”

  It would be worth getting off of my ridiculous diet if I could get out of the hospital today. I remembered the conversation I’d had with Quen the night after one of our third radio interviews. He’d said that it wasn’t my thinner self he’d been attracted to. And here I was losing weight for all the wrong reasons; doing it more for him than for me. I’d never enjoyed being fat although I’d gotten comfortable at it.

  I’d turned into this whole other person constantly worried about what I put into my mouth, concerned about what I looked like, and worried about what others thought of me. Instead of me feeling better about me, I was agonizing and pushing myself to be thin. Because I thought thin meant happy and would get me the guy I wanted.

  Dr. Benjamin began giving me a stern lecture about taking care of myself and not looking for an artificial fix to my problems. If I wasn’t so weak and he wasn’t so good-looking I would have answered him back. Right now my primary focus was to get the hell out of the hospital, do some thinking and find me again; the me inside that larger, more comfortable shell.

  Two days later I was released from the hospital. Quen was there to pick me up and was the person who drove me home. It felt good to have his arm around me as he steered me down the hallway and toward Jen’s apartment. I handed him her key, and as he placed it in the lock, a door across the hallway opened. Camille Lewis stuck her head out the opening.

  “I heard you were in the hospital,” the nasty witch said. “You don’t look so hot.”

  Thanks, I needed that. I still wasn’t myself and didn’t feel like getting into it with her, so I just smiled and said, “I’m getting better every day and thanks for caring.”