Thin Girls Don't Eat Cake (21 page)

I walked up to the glass fronted display case. My eyes — feeling as if a filter filled with glitter had been placed before them — took in the rows and rows of beautifully crafted cakes, each one prettier than the one beside it and every one calling my name. I swallowed, running my tongue over my lips. My fingertips quivered as they pressed against the glass. Velvety chocolate mousse cakes, tangy lemon meringue ones and miniature carrot cakes laden with cream cheese frosting. I’d been avoiding this place for months and now I knew why. I could taste the cakes already. There was not a hope in hell I was going to be able to leave with only one cupcake. I wouldn’t be satisfied until I was in possession of one of every variety of cake in the place, lovingly placed into a glittery cake box and tied with pink ribbon.

I was a cake addict. Cake was my comfort food of choice. When things were at their worst others turned to alcohol or drugs. Some people were addicted to sex. For me it was cakes and slices. And at that very moment I needed a cake fix like a junkie needed heroin.

Closing my eyes, I attempted to squash the temptation one last time. One cake. That was what I’d come for. One cake that would not ruin my diet and cause me to sink into the cycle of eating and self-loathing I’d fought so hard to get out of.

“Oh, Olivia, hello. How lovely to see you.”

A chirpy voice alerted me to the fact that I was, indeed, drooling over the counter. Adelaide had appeared from the kitchen and was wearing a t-shirt that looked remarkably like the one Cole quite often had on when he popped in to Doggie Divas. Over the top she wore a candy-striped apron. Behind her — through the confused fog that was descending over me — I was positive I could see Shannon-down-from-Perth, standing in the doorway, a piping bag in her hand.

What on earth were they doing here?

“Adelaide?”

“Is there something I can help you with? Or have you come to see Cole?” Adelaide had slid the glass door of the cabinet open and picked up a pair of serving tongs in readiness. The smell of the cupcakes drifted into my nostrils, rendering me incoherent. I couldn’t process the fact that Adelaide and Shannon were standing behind the counter serving. The smell was overpowering my senses, turning my brain into a bowl of raw pudding.

Then suddenly Cole appeared. On seeing me, his face lit up and he rounded the counter and walked towards me, smoothing his candy-striped apron as he did so.

“This is a nice surprise. Have you come to test out the house special? Phoebe’s Double Choc Fudge Delight.” He pointed to the most heavenly looking cupcake I had ever seen. Lashings of chocolate icing were piped on the top of the cake forming a whipped dark coffee-coloured peak. White chocolate had been drizzled over it and finished with tiny white chocolate love hearts layered with edible glitter. It looked utterly delectable, so delectable in fact that my knees began to tremble. The only upside was, I hadn’t begun to whimper.

But now I was even more confused. Was Cole’s business the cupcake shop? How could this be?

The three of them stood staring at me as if it were the most natural thing in the world and they couldn’t understand why I was acting like such a fool, which was the precise moment my brain finally decided to slot the random pieces into place. Like the Cole constantly had in his hair, the references to getting fat from too much icing, the fact that he always seemed to know when I was in the shop and what I was doing. He’d seen me from across the bloody road. And of course, I’d been so wrapped up in my own problems and the diet and everything, I’d taken every clue and stuffed it in a pink sparkly box in my head and ignored it. Why? How?

I was such a fool.

I’d fallen for the one man in the world I could never date — with the exception of Gerry, of course — the man who owned a cake shop. It was the ultimate in karma paybacks — though what’d I’d done to deserve it escaped me.

I looked at Cole, who was smiling as if all his Christmases had come at once.

Crap.

All I’d wanted was a bit of cake to help me get over the dreadful sadness I was feeling. How I was expected to deal with this?

“Olivia?” Cole was staring at me now; a concerned look had replaced his pleased-to-see-you face.

“Um, I… er… um.” I gazed at the cakes trying not to faint.

“Have you come to buy a cake?”

“NO! Thin girls don’t eat cake! I don’t eat cake! Oh crap. I have to get out of here now.” And without a look back — the fact that I was blinded by the image of that chocolate Phoebe delight or whatever it was enough of a torture — I ran from the shop.

Tearing across the road as if my life depended on it, I threw open the door of Doggie Divas, shut it behind me and slid the bolt into place. My breath ragged, I turned the sign to ‘back in ten minutes’. Bugger if Mrs Jones turned up in the meantime, I needed to get my head together and, clearly, I was not going to be doing so with the benefit of the sugary fixings of a nice piece of cake or a slice. I could hardly leave my own shop now either and trot up to Maggie’s. She wouldn’t serve me. She’d made a promise not to give me one single peppermint slice until my goal weight had been achieved. I’d made her. Even though we both knew it meant a drop in income for her.

I pulled my mobile from my pocket. There was only one thing for it. I needed an emergency supply and I needed it now. My hands were trembling uncontrollably. My breath was stuck in my lungs. It felt like I was having a heart attack or something. The tears welled. If I didn’t do something to combat them, my next appointment wouldn’t need the hydrobath.

I scrolled my recent calls and dialled. I felt ridiculous and silly that I was losing control but I couldn’t help it. It was as if every problem in the world had suddenly taken root in my head and I had no idea which one to tackle first or even how I would tackle them.

I gave a sniff and took a deep breath. “A…A… Alice?” 

“What’s wrong?”

“Can you come to the shop? Now? And bring cake. I need cake.”

Alice repeated her question.

“I… I can’t talk about it. Can you come? Please?”

“Give me ten minutes.”

*****

By the time Alice arrived, I’d pulled myself together enough to begin working on Miffy. Mrs Jones had arrived smack on time for her appointment and had almost thumped the door into next week to get it open. Which had only made me feel worse for being unprofessional. I should have been able to handle it. I should have been able to wait until I got home before I went into full meltdown mode.

“I think maybe you should turn the clippers off,” Alice said, pulling a bite-sized Mars Bar from her pocket putting it on the bench in front of me.

I stared at it, inspecting it like it might be about to explode. That wasn’t a cake.

“I know it’s not a cake or a slice but I figure you’ve been so good you’d be very upset with yourself if you gave in now and started on a binge. The chocolate is sweeter than cake. It should get rid of your craving. And it won’t ruin your points for the day. It’s only little. I bought you a black coffee too. It’s got five sugars in it.”

She plonked the tray of coffees on the bench and went out to turn the sign on the door back to ‘closed’.

I looked down at the chunks of hair I’d already taken from Miffy’s back. It was probably a wise move to stop clipping. My hands were shaking so much the poor dog would go home with one ear and if I stuffed up the clip, Mrs Jones would have a convulsion — after she’d had a screaming fit first, that is. Mrs Jones was infamous about town for her screaming fits.

Making sure the dog was secured and couldn’t leap from the grooming table, I reached over and turned off the clippers.

We sat down, me on the bench and Alice on the chair beside it.

“Eat your chocolate,” Alice said.

I unwrapped the Mars Bar and slowly nibbled at the corner. I gave a ragged sigh as the chocolaty coating melted in my mouth. I felt better now Alice was here. And as usual she was right. I would have been angry with myself if I’d started on another binge — which was what I’d intended to do until I’d got into the cake shop and discovered my boyfriend was the owner. The combination of him knowing I was cheating on my diet and also being there had certainly stopped me in my tracks. Plus I felt stupid. How did I not know Cole owned Death by Cupcake? If I was any dopier they could have used me in a production of Snow White.

I took a bite of the gooey centre of the Mars Bar, letting the sweetness sit on my tongue before swallowing. My blood pressure began to level. Much better.

“Did you know Cole owned Death by Cupcake?” I said.

“I thought the whole town knew. It’s not exactly a secret.”

“I didn’t.”

“Are you serious?”

“I guess I was so caught up in myself I never paid that much attention. And we’ve never spoken about his work here. We don’t have time for talking when all we do is have sex—”

Not that I was complaining about that.

“—I mean, I knew what he did in Perth. I just assumed he was running the business from here.”

“Oh. I take it you just found out you were wrong?”

“I went over there to buy a cake.”

“Why?” It was a logical question. I had sworn off cake.

“Mum’s pregnant.”

Alice looked as if I had announced I was joining The Spice Girls on a reunion tour and then, once her mouth had returned to its usual position, she sat quietly, absorbing the information. She shook her head a few times. She frowned at nothing in particular and looked about, almost as if she couldn’t quite comprehend what I’d told her. Gradually, though, her expression became sadder and sadder, and her eyes filled with sympathy.

“Oh, Livvy. No wonder you wanted to eat a massive slab of cake. I’d down a bottle of vodka if my mother broke news like that to me. It must have been such a shock.”

“It was. I’ve accepted that Mum and Connor are an item but I never expected this. I feel like I’ve been slighted by my own mother and it hurts. It really hurts. She gets to have a baby and a husband and I get nothing. Big fat nothing.” I wanted to bang my head on the table. It seemed the only way the huge lump of pain in my chest would be relieved was if I replaced it with some other sort of pain. I wanted to scream and punch things and throw things at the unfairness of it all but I knew it would make no difference. “To top it off, I find out Cole owns the bloody cake shop. I stormed in there ready to eat so much cake I’d never walk again and there he was. He was talking to me but I couldn’t answer because his head had morphed into a giant cupcake. I can’t take anymore. I just can’t.”

Alice leant over and gave me a hug. She held me tight and I felt some of the anxiety leave my body.

“I guess I could say it’ll get better with time or not to worry about it but I’d be lying. Your mum being pregnant isn’t something you can fix with cake. It’s not going to go away. Cole owning the cake shop, however, is a minor blip if you want to be with him.”

I knew that. I also knew I’d overreacted to finding him there but at that point I’d lost all control. Rational thinking wasn’t exactly my first priority.

“I feel like such shit. Utterly useless. And idiotic.”

“Your mum’s pregnancy is a blow, for sure, and you’ve got every reason to feel like rubbish but you have to pick yourself up. Move on. You’ve done it before.”

“Do I have to do it right now?”

“Nope. You have my full permission to wallow for the remainder of the day. Now, eat the rest of your Mars Bar.”

That was another reason I loved Alice. Even though she wasn’t trying to make me feel better with fluffy words, she still did.

“I thought you knew about Cole,” she continued. “I was so proud of how you were managing to have a relationship with him and not going into his shop.”

“Things might have been different if I’d known. I would never have gotten involved.”

“I disagree. You make a lovely couple. You’d have got together eventually.”

“Maybe, but I don’t think I can be in a relationship with him now. Not yet. Every time I look at him, I’m going to think of that Phoebe cupcake. I can’t get it out of my head. It’s taking every ounce of willpower I have not to run across the road and eat every single cake in that shop.”

“It’s a response to the bomb your mother’s dropped. You’re trying to find comfort. Remind yourself that comfort eating is what got you into the weight pickle in the first place. Get your comfort from Cole. That’s what boyfriends are for.”

I tried to remind myself but all I could think of was cake or Cole feeding me cake like a drug dealer providing free samples. Somehow, his whole beautiful persona had suddenly become tainted and I didn’t know what to do.

“Not helping.”

“It’s a double whammy of disasters, isn’t it? You must feel like the man upstairs gave you a big kick down them.”

“I don’t think I even believe in God anymore,” I replied, the tears beginning to come again. “If he did exist, he wouldn’t let these terrible things keep wrecking my life, would he? Oh Al, it’s so unfair.”

“I know sweetie. I know. But we have to deal with life’s blows, don’t we?” She squeezed me tighter.

“Why is it always me? How come every time I think things are going well something bad happens? I try to be nice to everyone. I never say boo when people do me wrong.”