Single Wide Female: The Bucket List Mega Bundle - 24 Books (Books #1-24) (80 page)

I winced a bit at her harsh words, but I did hear the truth in them. She was right. I did automatically judge slender people as having it easy. I didn’t think they ever had to worry about their weight or stress about diet and exercise.

“No offense intended, Samantha. You’re beautiful as you are. That’s the point. If we get caught up in all of this worry, it only puts us in this cycle of becoming unhealthy. So if you want to be healthy, sure, diet and exercise will help, but getting rid of stress will make the biggest difference. Maintaining a diet isn’t so hard if you don’t feel the need to bury your feelings in food.” She cringed as she looked at me. “I hope I didn’t upset you. I have a bad habit of telling it like it is.”

“No, you didn’t upset me at all. In fact you opened my eyes.” I smiled at her. “Thank you, Anisa. I never really thought about it that way. I’ve been craving peace in my life, but I stress myself out every time I look in the mirror, or slip up on my diet.”

“It’s not worth it, girl, trust me.” Anisa shook her head. “The real truth is, life is going to happen, no matter how hard we try to control it. You could stay at this job and the place could go out of business. Then what? You could become a writer and not sell a thing. Then what? You can’t see the future. If you could I’d be paying you to read my cards.” She grinned at that.

“I see your point.” I looked back at the swirling clothes in the dryer. Suddenly I didn’t see chaos. I saw the natural flow of life. I didn’t have control. The only thing I could do was make choices that fulfilled me, rather than limited me.

I was grateful for the conversation I’d had with Anisa.

After speaking to Anisa, I made a new decision. I was going to celebrate each day of my final week at Fluff and Stuff. Instead of growing more sad or anxious, I would spend my time honoring my time there, and my decision to leave. Part of this process would require my writing each night to remind myself of why I was leaving the job.

When I got home from Fluff and Stuff that night I was prepared to write whatever I could. When I turned on my computer, however, I was drawn to read over my interactions with Blue. He was my great white whale, in the sense that he was both alluring to me and dangerous. I wanted him to be part of my life, but I was terrified of making that known.

Was that part of the stress that drove my anxiety?

I sighed as I read over his kind words. Everything he said to me indicated that he might be interested, but it was so hard to believe. I didn’t think I was ever going to be brave enough to make it known that I wanted the chance to be with him. More than anything, I wished I could pick up the phone and just call him. I wanted to hear his voice. I wanted to know what he thought about the conversation I’d had with Anisa that day. I didn’t want him to be a spectator at my life, I wanted him to be part of it.

Before I could stop myself I had sent him an e-mail that simply said:

I miss you.

It was ridiculous, and after I sent it I wanted to take it back. But there was no way to.

Right away I began to think of excuses for it. I could just tell him that I sent it to the wrong e-mail address, or that I was drunk, or that I’d had a stroke.

Before I could decide on which excuse to use, I got an e-mail back from him.

I miss you too.

Blue

Chapter 5

My heart ached at the sight of those words. Blue didn’t ask for any explanation. It was as if he understood what I was feeling. I started to type a response but my ringing phone interrupted me. When I saw that it was Max I picked it up right away.

“Hey, Max.”

“Hi, just thought I’d check on you.”

I smiled a little. He always seemed to know when I needed to hear from him. I felt a little guilty. Not just for not writing Blue back, but also for writing him in the first place. My feelings for both Blue and Max often left me more than a little confused.

“How did today go?”

“It went well. I talked a lot with Anisa.”

“She seems nice. The few times I’ve talked to her she always had something positive to say.”

“She’s an interesting person. What she said meant a lot to me.”

“What did she say?”

“Just that I need to stop worrying so much.” I laughed.

“Huh. I wonder who has said that to you for years and years?” Max laughed too.

“Oh, Max, you know you always make me feel better. But it’s good to hear it from someone else now and then.”

Max was silent for a few moments. We often had lulls in our conversations so I didn’t think too much of it. When he spoke again, his voice had a strange tight quality to it.

“Is that what you want, Sammy? To hear it from someone else?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, I tell you all of the time how beautiful you are, how proud of yourself you should be, how wonderful of a person you are. But no matter how many times I say it, you don’t seem to hear it.”

I sat with his words for a moment. They were weighted with emotion—both his and my own. I didn’t really know how to answer him.

“I guess I just feel like you say those things because you’re my friend—because you’re a good person—because you’re being kind to me.” I sighed.

“So you don’t believe me? That’s it?”

I pressed the phone to my ear. It wasn’t often that Max and I wandered down this path of direct conversation. I wasn’t sure what had stirred it up.

“Max, why are we talking about this?”

“Well, if you don’t believe me, I guess there isn’t a reason to be talking at all.”

“Max, I think you’re taking that the wrong way.” My heart started to quicken. I could hear in the fluctuation of his voice that he was a little annoyed.

“You’re right. I’m sorry, Sammy. I guess I’m just a little tired. I should probably go to bed.”

“Max, you know you’re the most important person in the world to me, right?”

Max was silent again. When he did speak, his voice was back to normal. “I better be. Or I’ll hunt down my competition.” He laughed.

I laughed, but when I hung up the phone I still felt unsettled. Something was definitely going on with Max. I had so much going on in my life that it was easy to overlook Max’s troubles. He always had everything under control. I made a note to check in with him first thing in the morning.

When I looked back at the screen I decided that what I had started writing in response to Blue had to go. I deleted the e-mail.

“It can wait until tomorrow.”

After a quick shower and change into pajamas I crawled into bed. I lay awake for some time thinking about my future. It would be wonderful when I didn’t have to plan my writing around what time I had to leave for work.

The next morning I called Max right after I brushed my teeth. The phone rang several times but he didn’t answer. I sent him a text to say good morning. I assumed he’d had to go into work early. As I went through my morning motions I felt much more relaxed than I had the day before. I was ready to celebrate being one day closer to the beginning of my new way of life.

I stopped by the newspaper cart on my way to Fluff and Stuff. After considering my options I chose a short inspirational book and paid for it. That was a good way to celebrate, I was sure. What better way to start off my life as a writer than by reading?

When I reached Fluff and Stuff I found that Anisa was already there. So was Patricia.

“Good morning.” I smiled at both of them.

“Good morning, Samantha. I was hoping that you would be willing to help me with something.” Patricia offered a bright smile.

“Of course, anything.” A small part of me hoped that she might be asking me to stay.

“Could you train Anisa to open and close the shop? She will be taking over after you leave. You can also give her your key.”

Her words hit me in the gut. I knew they were not meant to hurt, but for some irrational reason they did.

“Absolutely. This will be so much fun.” I sounded so bubbly that I thought I might erupt.

“Great. There you go, Anisa. There’s no better person to train you than Samantha here.” She patted me on the shoulder as she left the laundromat.

Anisa cringed. “This isn’t going to be too awkward, is it?”

“No, it’ll be fine.” I led her over to the cash register. “We should start with how to open everything up. Then I’ll walk you through what I usually do in the morning. The rest you pretty much know, until we get to closing time.”

“Great.”

As I began to explain to her the process of opening the cash register for the day, I noticed that she was just listening. She wasn’t taking any notes.

“Do you want some paper? So you can make a list?”

“No. I’ll remember.” Anisa shrugged. “I used to work at a gas station, so it’s really not that hard.”

“Oh.” I swallowed back my thoughts about that. I was handing over my beloved Fluff and Stuff to someone who compared it to a gas station? I shook my head and continued on with the instructions.

Chapter 6

I showed Anisa where to store any excess money and how to operate the safe. Then I walked her through the inventory process for the small shop that was attached. Although the whirr and slush of the industrial-size washers and dryers would be hard to leave behind, it was really the shop that I had the most trouble walking out on.

It was a collection of convenience items as well as an assortment of unique treasures that I’d found throughout my travels in the city. As I was showing her how to arrange things I realized that I had put myself on the shelves in many ways. Little glimmers of my hopes and desires were captured in funky items that I’d collected.

But I had also used it as my hiding spot. It was a place where I could go to be myself, instead of allowing myself to always be myself, no matter where I was. It was my cocoon that I was emerging from.

The excitement of what was to come surged through me. Maybe this would be the key to moving forward.

That night I called Max. He didn’t answer—again. I frowned and checked my texts. Not a single word from him. I was starting to think that he was upset with me. I reminded myself that it was likely just my anxiety talking.

I settled in for a good writing session. As the words began to flow I incorporated what I’d learned from Anisa—that most women had body issues, not just women battling extra pounds. It really made me think about how women get this pressure. Television? Advertisements? Our own mothers passing it down?

It was hard to pinpoint exactly what had inserted the thought into our brains that our bodies somehow existed for the purpose of judgment. I realized that if I really thought about it, my body was astounding. All it did every single day to keep me alive was far more than I could comprehend. And yet I still looked at it with disdain when my swimsuit didn’t fit just right, or my breasts were too large to let me button a blouse.

Somewhere along the line we had let someone else’s standard of beauty define our worth, rather than our own instincts. Perhaps that was why there was such an epidemic of weight problems. With all of that pressure on us from the time we are little girls, how were we supposed to make it to adulthood with a healthy image of our body and our worth intact?

When I finished my writing for the evening I checked my phone again. There was still no call or text from Max. I sent him another text.

Checking in. Is everything okay?

Then I settled in bed. Though I intended to fall asleep, I simply couldn’t. My mind was filled with all kinds of wild thoughts about what might be going on with Max. By the time I fell asleep I was determined to find out for sure the next day.

When I woke up in the morning I realized that I’d forgotten to set my alarm. I’d overslept by a half hour. I wouldn’t be late to work if I rushed to get ready. I hurried through dressing and ran out the door. It wasn’t until I reached Fluff and Stuff that I realized I’d forgotten to call Max.

“Uh, Samantha, I think you have a little problem.” Anisa did her best not to giggle.

“What?” I narrowed my eyes. She was taking my job; did she intend to mock me now?

“You missed a button—or two.”

I looked down at my blouse to find it was gaping wide open. I had missed more than a button or two. I had missed eight out of ten. I always buttoned my collar and the bottom of my shirt, then did a final swish of deodorant before buttoning up the rest of the way. In my rush I must have skipped that last step.

“Oh no! I walked all the way here like this!” I groaned and quickly buttoned my shirt.

“Don’t worry, you just look like half of the other women in the city that like to go around with no clothes on.” Anisa rolled her eyes. “I mean, has any woman ever put on a pair of shorts so small that their cheeks hang out, because it was hot outside? How do they even breathe in those things?”

“I’m not sure.” I laughed. “I hadn’t really thought about it. I guess that they’re proud of their body.”

“If that’s pride, then give me a little humility.” Anisa clucked her tongue. “There is a time and a place for that style and it is not walking down the street.”

I shrugged and was at least relieved that I had my pants on.

As soon as we finished up for the night I dialed Max’s number. Max didn’t answer. I hung up my phone. It was nearly impossible for me not to be concerned and even hurt. Max was rarely unavailable to me. It made my mind go wild with questions about why he might not be answering.

Did he judge me for quitting my job? Had he finally given up on me?

Back home, I sat down in front of my computer and began to write a passage. I put all of my chaotic emotions into it.

As the words tumbled out, it dawned on me that this was the plight of all people. I wasn’t feeling insecure because of my weight; I was feeling insecure because of a choice that I’d made. It wouldn’t have mattered if I was thin or extra large; all that mattered was that I was afraid.

It made me think about how similar all people really were. Of course there had to be those confident few out there in the world, right? Those beasts of self-worth who would never doubt that they were valued. It seemed impossible to me to reach that point.