“I want to, Mother. I really want to.”
“Then we’ll find you the right help.”
“Is that why you’ve never said anything? Because you wanted me to decide for myself?” asked Caroline.
“I suppose so. I’m not entirely sure, except that I didn’t want to hurt you or crush your spirit by making a large fuss over it.”
Caroline wiped tears from her cheeks. “My spirit’s already crushed, but I’m ready to fight.”
“What’s made you want this now?”
“A boy.” She relayed the interaction with Miller to her mother. “In the end, I don’t know if he was being kind or terribly cruel. Either way, I don’t want to have to wonder.”
Mother, in tears, took her hand. “Oh, dearest.”
A week later, Mother had discovered a place to consider. “It’s innovative. They believe women should spend time getting exercise every day.”
“Exercise?” asked Caroline.
“Tennis and such. Swimming. Horseback riding. That sort of thing.” Mother smiled, with a dreamy look in her eyes. “It sounds like fun. I wish I could go with you.”
“Will I have to quit school?” asked Caroline.
“Only temporarily. You can take a semester off and return next fall,” said Mother.
The camp was in the mountains east of Los Angeles, with horses, a swimming pool, tennis courts, and hiking trails. It was full of young women just like her, varying in ages from sixteen to twenty-two. Pamela Borden, a young woman from Boston, Massachusetts, arrived at camp the same time as Caroline. Pamela, tall and broad-backed, who looked as if she could lift the same weight of any man, was especially thick through her middle section. Her girth did not disguise the stunning beauty of her high cheekbones and wide brown eyes fringed with dark lashes. She wore her thick, glossy hair longer than was in fashion and tied back from her face in a complicated arrangement of pins. As they walked behind the ramrod-straight headmistress, Miss Weible, a single teardrop slid down Pamela’s cheek. Caroline moved her satchel to her right hand and slipped the left into Pamela’s.
“It’ll be all right,” said Caroline.
“I’m homesick already, and I’ve only been here five minutes,” whispered Pamela. “And I’m so warm. It was snowing at home.”
“Nevermind your homesickness.” Miss Weible opened the door to cabin number seven and stepped aside so the girls could pass through. She was a woman one did not question. Every word and movement was efficient and concise, as if extraneous effort bordered on the ridiculous. It was best to simply follow suit. “You’re both in Lucky Seven. Only good things always happen here in Seven. You’ll be fast friends by the end of the day.”
The cabin appeared sturdy, despite being made from rustic boards. Six cots, all with a blanket and pillow, were arranged in two rows on either side of the cabin, with an aisle between. Each cot had a small table and a trunk underneath. “You may store your clothes and such in the trunk under your bed.” Miss Weible showed them their cots, which were next to each other on the right side of the cabin. The other four cots were obviously occupied, given the personal items displayed on their pillows, although the girls to whom they belonged were nowhere to be seen. “We ask that you keep your area clean in respect for the others.”
“Where do we bathe?” Pamela’s soft voice wobbled. “And dress?”
“Showers are across the way. You’ll expect to be clean for dinner. Otherwise, you’ll be outside a lot, getting exercise. You dress here, in the cabin.”
“In front of the other girls?” asked Pamela.
“Yes, Miss Borden. That’s correct,” said Ms. Weible. “Here at Camp Walden we believe you learn from your peers. The girls in this cabin are all at different stages in their transformations and they will bestow their wisdom upon you. Someday, you will do the same for new girls.” She patted her slim hips. “I used to be quite rotund myself. My own experiences and knowledge are the foundation of this camp. I have no doubt that you will both do well here, but our aim is to teach you how to live healthily for the rest of your life. I can promise you won’t leave here without that knowledge. It’s up to you to make this one life of yours as fulfilling as you want.
“It starts now. You two are to sit here, side-by-side, and tell the other your story, as truthfully as you can. The whole story, as if you’ve known one another for a long time. We believe in jumping right in. No small talk about the weather or what book you’re reading.” She rubbed her hands together, as if to rid them of dust. “Now, I must attend to other matters before lunch. The other girls are out on a hike, but should return within the hour. I’ve asked Susan to give you a full tour and answer any questions. Our midday meal is at noon. Dress in clothes that allow movement. Welcome to the rest of your life.”
After Miss Weible left, they sat on their cots, staring at one another. “My God, what have we done?” asked Pamela. She laughed.
Caroline laughed, suddenly feeling lighter. “I don’t know. Do you want to go first?”
Pamela had a sweet, soprano voice, which didn’t match her stature. “My mother hates that I’m fat. She’s ashamed of me. I’m supposed to come out next season, and the idea of me in an evening dress has given her hives. Quite literally. They’re covering her entire neck and chest.”
“Oh, my.”
Pamela continued. “I’m the youngest of two. My sister’s pretty and dainty. The picture-perfect debutante. She’s getting married next summer to the exact man for her, in the eyes of my mother anyway, but I’m afraid she doesn’t love him. She has this awful look in her eyes like a trapped animal. My mother won’t listen, though, and my sister and I want to please her, so we swallow anything we want to say. My sister’s dying inside, I know it, but she won’t defy my mother.”
“What about your father?” asked Caroline.
“My father died when I was twelve and that’s when the trouble started with my weight. We did everything together, almost like I was a son. He liked to be outside and we used to go on long walks together and play with balls in the front yard. We have a summer home in the country and we swam in the lake and fished together. After he died, I missed him so much. The only thing that made me feel better was to eat cookies and cakes, anything sweet. It only lasted a few minutes, but at the time the food was in my mouth, I felt better. The more I ate, the more my mother tried to stop me. It became this back and forth all the time, until food and shame were all mixed up together.”
Her own story spilled from her. Julius. Her mother’s delicate beauty and how awful it was to stand next to her at functions. She told her of Anna Beale and the shame of that night. She explained her parents’ enormous wealth and the pressure Caroline felt to do good in the world. Finally, the interaction with Miller that had ultimately delivered her to this very moment.
By the time the other girls arrived, Miss Weible’s prediction had come true. Caroline and Pamela were fast friends.
At that first lunch, they were introduced to the idea of smaller portions and to avoid sweets, including soda. Required to take shifts in the kitchen and dining hall on a rolling schedule, they learned to cook meals that included foods filled with vitamins and minerals. Every afternoon they took long hikes, played tennis, and swam in the heated pool. Day by day, little by little, Caroline’s body changed. Muscles replaced fat. Clothes began to hang on her new smaller frame, so her mother sent her new ones. Twice, new clothes were necessary.
In the shared experience, the commiseration, Caroline found hope. Dry mountain air and constant sunshine were like healing balms, as were the other girls. Every afternoon at three, Miss Weible gathered women into the dining hall for lesson time, where she taught them her innovative ways of thinking about themselves and the world. Caroline didn’t have a word for Miss Weible’s philosophy other than it was a message of empowerment and self-love, all entwined with the belief that if their inner thoughts of self-hatred could be healed, the outer self would follow. “You must speak to one another with authenticit
y because in shared experience lies healing.”
Miss Weible was to be obeyed. No one questioned this universal truth. During nights on the skinny cots, the women talked to one another, their voices soft in the dark. Always been this way. I eat the same as everyone else in my family but I’m the only fat one. I want to die from the shame. The only thing that makes me feel better is food.
I love a boy, but he’ll never love me back.
During her first few weeks, she wrote to Julius every Sunday, filling the pages with details of her activities and new friendships. He wrote back of his rigorous curriculum and exhaustion in short notes, scribbled out of duty, Caroline suspected. One day, after they’d been there just shy of two months, Caroline and Pamela hiked the mountain trail. When they reached the peak, they stood side-by-side, looking at the spectacular view of the mountains and blue sky beyond. Caroline took in a large breath of mountain air, filling her taxed lungs to capacity before letting it out slowly, practicing the art of releasing what she could not control, as taught by Miss Weible. “Pam, I’m going to stop writing Julius.”
Pamela didn’t say anything for a moment. “Miss Weible says we must treat ourselves as well as we treat others.”
“Yes.”
“We deserve to be loved as we love,” said Pamela.
Caroline knelt and picked up an oval stone by her feet. She rubbed her fingertips along the rough surface before putting it in her pocket. The needles of the firs rustled in the breeze. A jay squawked in a tall oak.
“I’m not going home when I’m done here,” said Pamela. “I’m staying out West. I can breathe here.” Caroline turned to look at her. Pamela’s dark hair was in a braid down her back, peeking out from the brim of her straw hat. Slim and tall, with glowing skin, she exuded health and confidence.
“What about your mother? What about your season?” asked Caroline.
“I’m not doing it. I’m done with it. I’m done with her.”
“Where will you go? How will you live?”
“I have a trust fund my father set up for me before he died. It’s mine. My mother can’t touch it or stop me from using it. Maybe I’ll buy a piece of property in the country. Have a garden. Take hikes every day if I want to. Maybe I’ll move to Oregon and become a mountain lady. I don’t know, other than I’m going to travel for a year. I want to see some of the country and decide where to live later. I’ll know where it is when I see it.”
“A mountain lady?” Caroline laughed.
“I’ll grow old and cranky and scare all the children in town with my crazy ways,” said Pamela.
“The poor children.” Caroline picked up another stone, pointed and jagged, like it had broken away from a larger rock. She threw it as hard as she could off the side of the mountain. “It feels like I’ve been hoping he’ll love me my whole life.”
“And I, my mother.” Pamela took off her hat and lifted her face to the sun, closing her eyes.
They stood in silence, Caroline gazing at the view, hoping to memorize it for the days and weeks to come and Pamela with her face to the sun. After a moment, Caroline tugged on her arm. “We should go. I want to be at the cabin to welcome the new girl.”
Pam placed her hat back on her head. “Lead the way. I’m right behind you.”
At the end of three months, Caroline stood in front of the mirror, transformed. A beautiful woman, slender and muscular, stared back at her. Her blond hair, bleached by the sun from all the outdoor activities, contrasted her tanned skin. She did not look away in shame. Instead of food, she wanted to play a game of tennis. Behind her, Pamela stood in the doorway of the cabin, satchel in hand. “The car’s here,” said Pamela. “It’s time to go.”
“I’m ready.”
CHAPTER THREE
Caroline
ON A WARM DAY IN APRIL, Caroline stood outside the soda shop, looking through the window at Miller working the counter. She took in a deep breath, gathering courage. She would march up to the counter and take a seat. She would pretend she didn’t remember him. Earlier that morning she had practiced being cold and indifferent in front of the mirror.
She sat on the stool closest the door. It was quiet, only a few customers at tables, chatting quietly. “May I have a water, please? And a tomato sandwich.”
He gazed at her with coal black eyes until she was absorbed, penetrated. “You look different.”
“Do I?” So much for pretending she didn’t remember him.
“Yeah. Where you been?” He set a glass of water on the counter.
“Busy.”
“I see. Hang tight. I’ll get this order back to the kitchen.”
She waited, sipping from the glass of water. Her heart moved to her throat and her pulse thudded there with unusual rapidity. The corner of her eye twitched. She put her index finger over it.
Miller came back, leaning on the counter with his elbow. “It’s been over three months since you were in here. I imagined your father was having trouble like so many.”
“No, we’re fine.”
A ding of a bell from the kitchen averted Miller’s attention. “That’ll be your sandwich.” He left to fetch it. When he came back, he set it in front of her, along with a paper napkin.
She took half the sandwich and wrapped it in the napkin. There was a man begging on the street. She would give it to him. This was a trick she learned at camp. Eat half of what everyone else eats. Put it aside if you can do so politely.
She looked up to see him watching her. “Not hungry?”
“I’m always hungry.” She spoke without emotion, before taking a dainty bite of her sandwich. Eat slowly. Do not gulp your food. Enjoy the taste. Would she ever stop hearing the words of the Miss Weible in her head?
He smiled. “I never got enough when I was a kid. It takes a lot not to eat like a hungry kid now that I’m not. We always have a lot of leftovers here, so I’m lucky.”
“I went to the mountains,” she said, as if he’d asked her again about her whereabouts. “I lost a lot of weight there.”
His eyes widened, but he didn’t say anything.
“I came in here to say thank you,” she said.
“Me? What did I do?”
“You were cruel to me, which made me angry enough to decide to do something about my figure. Every time I thought about putting a treat in my mouth I remembered the way you looked at me.”
“Wait now. How did I look at you? How was I cruel to you?”
“Mocking me. Telling me I was beautiful when I was not.”
“Caroline Bennett, I meant every word I said. Whether you’re curvaceous or slender, you’re beautiful.”
She didn’t know what to say. Her stomach did a flip, like it did when they were teenagers and she saw Julius running toward her on the beach. Was he telling the truth? Had he found her beautiful even when she was plump?
He leaned closer, placing both hands on the counter. “Thinking I hurt you makes me want to die.”
“That’s outrageous and ridiculous.” She laughed, elated, so light she might float to the ceiling. Had she misjudged him?
“Would you like to go dancing with me sometime?” he asked.
“Dancing?”
“Yes. You dance, don’t you?”
“I’ve been to finishing school. I dance.”
“This isn’t that kind of dancing.” He raised his eyebrows and winked. “Don’t you worry; I’ll take the lead.”
“Then, yes. I’ll allow you to take me dancing. But you’ll have to pick me up at my home. Father will insist on that.”
**
Three months later, while watching a sunset the color of a ripe peach, he told her he loved her, that he could not live without her. “Would you ever consider a penniless dreamer? Because I want you to be my wife.”
“Oh, Miller, yes, I want to. But my father. He’ll have to agree.”
“He’ll agree. He won’t deny you what you want.”
“Why do you say that? How do you know?” she asked.
She waited until after dinner that evening to speak to her parents, pouring them all a drink in the study. “I have something important to talk to you about.”
Her parents exchanged glances, as if they knew what was coming and had to brace themselves.
“Miller asked me to marry him,” she said.
Mother, eyes sharp, leaned forward in her chair. “Why didn’t he ask your father?”
“I’m asking for him,” she said. “This isn’t his world. He doesn’t know the rules.”
“He’s penniless,” said Mother.
“Does that matter?” asked Caroline. “We have our own money.”
“This is the very same boy who hurt you,” said Mother. “You told me he’s cruel.”
“I misunderstood,” said Caroline.
“I question if this young man is worthy of you,” said Father. “You have everything to offer and he has nothing.”
“How do you know he doesn’t just want our money?” asked Mother.
“Mother, I’m surprised at you,” said Caroline. “You’re so generous to the poor.”
Mother sniffed, taking a sip of her brandy. “I want the very best for you. We don’t know anything about this young man.”
“It’s our job to protect you,” said Father. “Over my dead body will I let you make a mistake. Who you marry is the most important decision you’ll ever make. It taints the rest of your life.”
“I love him, Daddy. Isn’t that enough to know?”
“What about Julius?” asked Mother.
“Mother, Julius thinks of me like a sister.”
“But you love him, don’t you?” asked Mother. “You’ve loved him all your life.”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Caroline. “I deserve someone who loves me back. I can’t waste my life pining for Julius.”
“Let’s have Miller Dreeser to dinner,” said Father. “If he wants you, he must do this properly.”
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