didn’t even want them on the premises! The last time I’d entered Little Bits with Rhoda, during our senior year in high school, a rude clerk had promptly informed me that they didn’t carry my size, but that there was a Tiger’s Den across the street, a run-down warehouse of a store, with an elephant in a tutu on its logo, that catered to the “big-boned”
women. I had never felt so humiliated in my life. I went home and ate a whole baked chicken that day. My life was so different now, and I wanted to keep it that way. With the exception of my shaky marriage, I was a happy woman.
Rhoda and I had almost finished our lunch. I was glad, because I was ready for her to leave. I didn’t like all the thoughtful looks she kept giving me and some of the things she was saying.
“You are at a fairly acceptable size now, Annette. But you’ve lost a lot of weight in a short period of time, and that can’t be too good for a woman your age. But you can still eat most of the things you like as long as you know when to push your plate away. It can’t be that hard.” Rhoda speared a slice of cucumber from her salad.
More than half of her french fry order was still sitting in front of her, getting cold. Leaving that much food uneaten was something that I rarely did. Even now. But the difference now was, I didn’t overload my plate. Therefore, when I did leave half of my food uneaten, it wasn’t that much. “I know how you feel.” Rhoda had on a Bob Marley T-shirt and a pair of jeans that I probably couldn’t have squeezed one of my legs into.
“You are a goddamn liar. You can sit here, with your size three–
wearing self, and talk all that shit and still not know how I feel.
You’ve never had to walk in my shoes.” I stabbed a sliver of carrot with my fork, then started to nibble on it like a rabbit. “It is not easy to resist good food. Sometimes it’s still a struggle for me to eat only when I’m hungry.”
Rhoda gave me a dismissive wave and shook her head. “Well, it must be comforting to know that most men love women with more meat on their bones.”
“And that’s another thing. That’s one of the worst clichés in the GOD AIN’ T BLIND
73
English language. That’s something fat women say to make themselves feel better. No man has ever told me that.”
Rhoda gave me an exasperated look before she popped a bouquet of french fries into her mouth. That gesture evoked a memory that brought tears to my eyes. The first conversation that I’d had the nerve to initiate with Rhoda, in the school cafeteria in eighth grade, was about me eating the leftover french fries on her tray. We’d been best friends ever since. Despite the fact that Jade used to shower me with french fries, too, it was the one thing that she had not ruined my taste for.
“That catered lunch really sounds like a good deal. But I don’t know if my budget will allow me to treat my employees to a weekly feast,” I said. “I’ll call up my boss before I leave work today and run it by him.”
I knew that Mr. Mizelle, one of the nicest bosses in town, would probably let me do just about anything I wanted to do. It was no secret that he was basically our boss in name only. I had been running the show single-handedly for years. And, as a matter of fact, he had also encouraged me to be more sociable with the people I supervised. He hosted regular potlucks and a few catered affairs at the main office downtown, where he occupied a huge office on the top floor of one of Richland’s biggest office buildings.
Rhoda must have been reading my mind. “That old goat you work for loves you and would make a budget for treats if you asked him to. If you work out a contract or an informal agreement, if you’re more comfortable with that, Louis Baines will give you a really good deal. Off the Hook is the kind of place that has potential. It could be a huge success. But we have to help make that happen.”
“You have a contract with this Louis
women. I had never felt so humiliated in my life. I went home and ate a whole baked chicken that day. My life was so different now, and I wanted to keep it that way. With the exception of my shaky marriage, I was a happy woman.
Rhoda and I had almost finished our lunch. I was glad, because I was ready for her to leave. I didn’t like all the thoughtful looks she kept giving me and some of the things she was saying.
“You are at a fairly acceptable size now, Annette. But you’ve lost a lot of weight in a short period of time, and that can’t be too good for a woman your age. But you can still eat most of the things you like as long as you know when to push your plate away. It can’t be that hard.” Rhoda speared a slice of cucumber from her salad.
More than half of her french fry order was still sitting in front of her, getting cold. Leaving that much food uneaten was something that I rarely did. Even now. But the difference now was, I didn’t overload my plate. Therefore, when I did leave half of my food uneaten, it wasn’t that much. “I know how you feel.” Rhoda had on a Bob Marley T-shirt and a pair of jeans that I probably couldn’t have squeezed one of my legs into.
“You are a goddamn liar. You can sit here, with your size three–
wearing self, and talk all that shit and still not know how I feel.
You’ve never had to walk in my shoes.” I stabbed a sliver of carrot with my fork, then started to nibble on it like a rabbit. “It is not easy to resist good food. Sometimes it’s still a struggle for me to eat only when I’m hungry.”
Rhoda gave me a dismissive wave and shook her head. “Well, it must be comforting to know that most men love women with more meat on their bones.”
“And that’s another thing. That’s one of the worst clichés in the GOD AIN’ T BLIND
73
English language. That’s something fat women say to make themselves feel better. No man has ever told me that.”
Rhoda gave me an exasperated look before she popped a bouquet of french fries into her mouth. That gesture evoked a memory that brought tears to my eyes. The first conversation that I’d had the nerve to initiate with Rhoda, in the school cafeteria in eighth grade, was about me eating the leftover french fries on her tray. We’d been best friends ever since. Despite the fact that Jade used to shower me with french fries, too, it was the one thing that she had not ruined my taste for.
“That catered lunch really sounds like a good deal. But I don’t know if my budget will allow me to treat my employees to a weekly feast,” I said. “I’ll call up my boss before I leave work today and run it by him.”
I knew that Mr. Mizelle, one of the nicest bosses in town, would probably let me do just about anything I wanted to do. It was no secret that he was basically our boss in name only. I had been running the show single-handedly for years. And, as a matter of fact, he had also encouraged me to be more sociable with the people I supervised. He hosted regular potlucks and a few catered affairs at the main office downtown, where he occupied a huge office on the top floor of one of Richland’s biggest office buildings.
Rhoda must have been reading my mind. “That old goat you work for loves you and would make a budget for treats if you asked him to. If you work out a contract or an informal agreement, if you’re more comfortable with that, Louis Baines will give you a really good deal. Off the Hook is the kind of place that has potential. It could be a huge success. But we have to help make that happen.”
“You have a contract with this Louis
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