Thin Girls Don't Eat Cake (20 page)

“What was she like?” I asked again.

Cole cuddled me and I adjusted the covers around us, snuggling closer. His chest was smooth against my cheek. I liked the way his arm held me tight. I liked the way I could draw little circles around his bare chest and make him twitch. It made me feel very contented and rather like I was up to something naughty.

“Phoebe had the most amazing green eyes. From the minute she was born, her eyes were what people commented on most. Her eyes and her wit. She was intelligent too, very intelligent, though who knows where she got that from. Neither Jenny nor I are Rhodes Scholars. I did pretty well at school but I was lazy and I could never make up my mind what I wanted to be. I had half a dozen jobs before I fell into property development. Phoebe wasn’t like that. She wanted to be a doctor and help sick kids. She would have been too, if she hadn’t got sick. I don’t doubt it.”

“She sounds like a pretty cool little girl.”

“She was. She was also the most obnoxious kid on the planet. But not in that annoying spoilt sort of brat way, more in the always-get-everything-right way. Every idea she came up with was bizarre and outrageous but somehow they seemed to work. And she never let me forget it.”

“Like what?”

“Once she convinced me I should use myself in an ad for the business, you know, like the big builders do to get you to buy their spec homes. I thought she was insane but within weeks I was inundated with clients wanting everything from makeovers to full scale property development.”

“I bet most of them were women.”

If I’d seen Cole on TV I’d be clamouring to have him work on my house.

“Funnily enough. The ad was like a magnet for every desperate woman in Western Australia to turn up on my doorstep and ask me to take my shirt off.”

“Oh my God — you’re the Reno King.”

“That’s me.”

“You were really hot in that ad. I wanted you to renovate my house and I didn’t even have one.”

“What do you mean ‘were’? I’m haven’t exactly lost my looks.”

I leaned up on my elbow. “You are so full of yourself.”

“Hey, not as full of myself as some people, Miss I-met-Kirsten-Dunst.”

“I did!”

“Did you get her phone number while you were at it? Share a latte?”

The punch I gave him in the arm was so forceful he winced. Then he grinned and grabbed me. “So, it’s a fight you want is it? Come on then, tough girl.”

I wished I’d never told him I was ticklish. I didn’t have a hope of winning that fight.

Later, we talked about how Cole had come to live in Merrifield, his desire for a change of scene after Phoebe had died and what he wanted from his future. It was as if we’d known each other for years, the way he talked. Like he wanted me to know the most intimate details of his life because I was important to him. It made me comfortable to share things with him too. Most things anyway. I wasn’t quite ready to divulge my love for David Cassidy and The Partridge Family.

“It must have been hard for you when Phoebe died,” I said.

“It was the worst time of my life. I felt so guilty.”

“Why? It’s not like you could have found a cure.”

“I still felt bad. When your kid gets sick you want to make it right. I wanted so much for Phoebe to live but it wasn’t meant to be. And after she died, it was like some gaping void opened up. I didn’t know how to fill it. I had this empty hole in my chest. The days were a blur. I can’t remember a lot of it but I know I spent most of the first few months sleeping. Or drunk. I almost lost the business in that time but the guys I had working for me were great. They kept the wheels turning as best they could.” He expressed a grief-laden sigh. “I don’t think anyone could understand how the death of a child makes you feel unless they’ve experienced it.”

“But one day you’ll have more kids, right? I mean, Phoebe will always hold a special place in your heart and I know you’ll never replace her but don’t you want more children. When the time comes?”

Cole lifted a questioning eyebrow. His eyes twinkled as he moved in to nuzzle at my neck. “Why, Merrifield? Are you offering to have my babies? Because I’ve been thinking I’d like at least another half a dozen. Depends how tired I get with the practising.”

I hoped he didn’t feel me flinch.

For the remainder of the week I felt like was floating on air. I was so happy I would have tap danced into work, swinging around lampposts like Gene Kelly in Singin’ In the Rain— if I’d known how, that was. The week could not have been any more perfect.

First, Alice and Jed had gotten back together and seemed even more in love than ever which was sort of sickening if you were in the same room as them for longer than twenty minutes. Especially when they started that cooing thing. Eww.

Second, I’d managed — finally — to score myself a boyfriend who wasn’t a complete degenerate or only after one thing. Cole was real, honest, single AND manly — qualities that when combined were unheard of in any boyfriend I’d ever had and a feat I never thought I’d see in my lifetime.

Lastly, that morning, I’d hopped onto the scales to find I’d dropped another two kilos. I’d spent so much time in bed that I hadn’t had time to eat and the added ‘exertion’ had literally melted the calories away. I was actually beginning to like my scales. They weren’t causing me stress. And because I could feel myself getting thinner, I didn’t feel the need to obsessively jump on them every time I went to the toilet. It was like my brain had been cauterised in my sleep so that that part of me no longer existed.

It was all because of Cole, of course. It was the little things he did, the cute way he pushed the hair back from his forehead, the masculine line of his chin, the sweet things he said that made me understand how he felt. But mostly, it was the way he made me feel when he gazed into my eyes before he kissed me — like finally, I’d found that person I could lean on when things went bad, that someone I could share everything with like I’d always wanted.

*****

I’d finished the morning’s clients and was about to eat my chicken salad lunch when the bell on the front door tinkled and Mum walked in. At least, I thought it was Mum; the face was obscured by a massive bunch of helium-filled balloons, which she was swiping aside with her hand in order to see where she was going. I put down the container in my hand and stood to greet her.

Mum stopped at the corner of the counter, kissing my cheek. “Hello sweetheart. How’s tricks?” She looked relaxed and content after her mini break with Connor, a smile from ear to ear gracing her face.

“Hi, Mum. Great thanks. How was your break?”

“Glorious. I didn’t want to leave. There was such a lot to see and do. We had a couple’s pampering session followed a horse and carriage ride to a picnic Connor had organised by the lake. It was very romantic.”

I was happy for her. It sounded nice.

“Then, on the Saturday night we went to a movie under the stars,” she continued. “Watched The Notebook. That Ryan Gosling is a bit of a looker but I didn’t go much on the beard. We had the most amazing sex that night. I’m so glad I enrolled in that Kama Sutra yoga class.”

Okay. Maybe not so nice.

“Then on Sunday—”

I held up a hand. “I think I’ve heard enough, thanks.”

Mum appeared bemused. “I was only going to say Connor had had personalised cupcakes made. Pity I couldn’t eat them. He’d forgotten I’m allergic to egg.”

Reaching out, Mum placed the bunch of balloons — weighted so they wouldn’t float away obviously — on the counter. Her hands went to my shoulders and she turned me this way and that, her gaze intent as it swept over my body. I imagined it was rather how a contestant in Miss Universe might feel. “You’re looking quite trim,” she remarked. “Are you wearing the Spanx?”

“No. I’ve lost another two kilos.”

“Oh well done. The diet’s going well, then?”

“The extra exercise seems to be doing the trick.”

Not to mention the sex.

“Keep it up. You look so much prettier when you’re not carrying extra weight.”

I knew this was meant to be a compliment but I couldn’t help feeling like Mum was having a go at me. Again. I know she didn’t mean to, that the things she said and did came from a place of love but sometimes I wished she’d think before she opened her mouth.

“I heard about you and that lovely Cole by the way,” Mum continued.

“Mrs Tanner?”

“No. Shannon-down-from Perth. She heard about it at her job interview.”

What job interview? And why were they talking about me?

“She got the job. Started yesterday, I think. Isn’t he simply adorable?”

What job interview? Who was adorable? Honestly, you were off the radar for a couple of days and everyone was getting a new profession.

“Who?”

“Cole.”

Oh okay. We were back to him.

“He is rather.” I could feel my face breaking into an ecstatic grin. I’d been doing such a lot of that my cheek muscles were beginning to ache.

Mum gave a knowing nod. “You’ll need to lift your game if you’re going to swim in that pool, possum. But you can do it. I have very confidence.”

She made it sound like I was about to shoot the winning goal in a netball grand final. Ignoring the comment, I turned my gaze to the bunch of balloons. I’d never seen anything quite so gaudy. That amount of pink and sparkles would have even given Barbie nightmares. It was a wonder Mum had been able to get them through the door. “Who are the balloons for?”

“Oh, I quite forgot. I’m such a ditz lately, my brain has completely left the building.” She handed them to me. “They’re for you. A little gift.”

What would possess her to buy a bunch of balloons as a gift was beyond me but I thanked her and took the balloons, sliding the weight to the end of the counter, where they bobbed around merrily before righting themselves and becoming still. They were quite pretty, in an over the top sort of way.

“Is there any particular reason for this gift?”

“There is. I have some very exciting news.”

I hoped this wasn’t going to be like the last time Mum sprung a surprise. I was still trying to get my head around that turn of events.

“Well, go on.”

“You’re going to be a big sister.”

Mum was buying another cat? A puppy? Surely not. The way she jaunted around the world these days, the poor thing would spend more time in a cattery than at home.

“There’s going to be a baby,” Mum explained.

I swallowed. A wave of sheer terror — or was it disbelief — gushed through my veins. It had to be a joke. But it couldn’t be. My mother never played tricks on people. She didn’t even understand jokes. I looked up at the swag of balloons, my eyes coming to rest on the one hidden in the centre that had ‘it’s a girl’ printed on it. Slowly, like the sunrise over town in winter, the concept grew wings and began to fly around my head, rather like the stork delivering a baby.

“It’s a girl,” Mum announced. “Well, I’m pretty sure it is—”

She wasn’t serious, was she?

“—I haven’t had a scan or anything. I’m not far enough along but I have all the symptoms I had with you.”

It seemed she was.

“It was a bit of a surprise. I thought I was late. The change and everything. You know how it is.”

Well, I didn’t but I had an idea.

I began to cough, large gulping coughs that threatened to choke me. Mum leant over, slapping my back.

She’d lost the plot with this one. It was one thing to be missing Dad but compensating with a baby? A kitten was a far more sensible option.

“And then I did the test and the little blue line popped up,” she continued. “And … it’s so exciting. Aren’t you excited, sweetheart? You always wanted a sibling.”

Maybe when I was eight but not when I was twenty-eight. The very thought was enough to make me feel ill. I stared at my mother, incapable of forming words. How could she do this? Well, clearly I knew how she did it, of course, but…God…. Surely she wasn’t planning to go through with it. She was forty-eight years old. How was it even possible she could be pregnant?

“Aren’t you pleased?” Mum looked slightly crestfallen that I wasn’t cartwheeling with joy around the shop.

“Shocked might be a more apt description. I’m assuming—”

“— that Connor’s the father, yes. I know I’ve been living it up since your father passed, darling, but I haven’t been a complete hussy. Connor’s the only man I’ve been with.”

Which somehow — I don’t know how — made it worse in my eyes. Connor wasn’t father material. He wasn’t even boyfriend material. It was one thing for Mum to be having a fling, but marriage? Babies? She’d be sixty-eight when the baby was twenty. Grandmothers were sixty-eight, not mothers. God forbid, she might even be dead.

And what about my feelings in this? Had she no respect for the daughter she already had? No matter what view I took, I could find nothing good in this scenario. I couldn’t feel excited when I felt slightly appalled, a bit hurt and a great big bit angry with my mother for being so selfish. She was putting me in a situation where I was expected to be over the moon, hand out the congratulatory champagne. But I didn’t feel that way and I didn’t know if I could hide it this time.

Picking up the balloons, I handed them back to her. “I don’t want the gift, thank you.”

“But darling.”

“Don’t ‘but darling’ me. You had to know I wouldn’t be happy, Mum. Did you think buying me a bunch of balloons and making like we were going on a big adventure would help me to accept it? I’m not six. I know it sounds harsh but you’re old enough to be a grandmother. You’ve had your turn. You had me, remember?”

Mum’s face sank. I thought she might cry. “It’s a lot to absorb.”

“That’s something of an understatement.”

“I might leave you to it, then. Give you time to think. I’ll call you later, all right?”

“Fine.”

Which of course it wasn’t.

I walked to the door, opening it for Mum, who stepped onto the street and strolled off up the road, a certain bounce in her step I hadn’t noticed since Dad died. She was so happy about the baby, which made me feel awful for behaving the way I had — like the selfish only child. But she’d shocked me. If I’d had time to prepare maybe I would have approached the news in a different way.

“Mum!” I called up the street.

She stopped and turned and I ran down and wrapped her in the biggest hug. “It’s great news about the baby.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Mum smiled. “Thank you sweetheart. Here, have some balloons.”

As I got back to the shop, happy that I’d made my mother’s day in some small way — even if I hadn’t meant a word of it — I pushed the massive bunch of baby balloons through the door and shut it behind them. I stood for a second, staring at the cupcake shop across the way. There was no queue today. The paparazzi seemed to have disappeared too. If I turned the sign around, I could pop over the road, buy a cake and be back in time for my next client. I didn’t have time to walk to Maggie’s and back. And I really needed a cake. My thoughts always became clearer after cake.

*****

As I approached the front door of Death By Cupcake, my heart began to thump uncomfortably in my chest. The inside of my mouth was more parched than if I’d eaten a bucketful of sand. I felt faint with anticipation. I didn’t want to do it, I didn’t want to give in but I was being compelled by something I was powerless to control. I paused, the doorknob in my hand, as a tiny voice in my head began to tease. I knew I shouldn’t listen, that I should go back to Doggie Divas, drink ten litres of water and put cake as far from my mind as it would go but the voice was fairly convincing. Especially when it manifested itself in the form of a pink, sparkly demon, which perched itself on my right shoulder and began to whisper in my ear.

It’s been a long time since a cake’s passed your lips, Olivia. Don’t you deserve it?

No, I thought. One should never use cake as a reward. Or an emotional crutch. I took a step away from the door.

But you’ve worked soooo hard, lost a lot of weight. One teensy weensy cupcake won’t do you any harm.

Which was a total lie because I knew I wouldn’t stop at one. And that would do me heaps of harm. I’d be back where I started before I knew it. This wasn’t just about my weight. It was my mental health too.

It’ll make you feel better. You know it will.

Drugs make you feel better in the beginning but look where Heath Ledger ended up, I countered.

The voice was silent for a minute. I thought I was winning. I turned to head back across the road. Then it hit me with the argument I could never ignore and I stopped short.

It’s only one cake. Buy one, ease that bubble of hurt inside you. Your mother was such a cow getting pregnant like that with no consideration of how it would make you feel. She was mean. Cake is never mean. Buy a cake. It will make you feel good. You can work it off by jogging.

Well, yes. I could. I turned toward the front door again.

One cake never hurt anyone.

I guess not.

Think of that icing, the decorations. You love the crunchy decorations. It’s only one little cake.

Oh what the hell. My hand on the doorknob, I twisted it and stepped inside, pausing to savour the sweet aroma of cake. It was only one little piece. One cake and my craving would be gone and I could get on with the remainder of my day.