Authors: Sheila Roberts
Bikini Season (4 page)
“Okay, so what did you have in mind?” asked Megan.
“Well, I'm just thinking,” said Angela. “Everyone here has pretty much said she needs to lose weight, right?”
The others nodded.
“So, why not try to help each other? I mean, the only reason Kizzy was going to drop out was because she's got to get serious, and our monthly pig-outs won't help. And Megan, is that the same reason you were going to bail? I mean, it's not because you don't like us. Right?”
“No. You're all great,” Megan said. “In fact, this is the first time in years when I've been with other women who aren't either judging me or competing against me.”
“Well, then,” said Angela. “We all want to lose weight. Why not stick together?”
“Hmmm,” said Erin. “That's not a bad idea.”
“Oprah's got great diet advice on her Web site,” Angela continued, warming to her subject. “Maybe we could all do an Oprah booty camp.”
“That would only help me if Oprah stayed at my house, followed me around, and slapped me every time I got into the fridge,” said Kizzy. “I need something a little more hands-on.”
“That's where cooking club comes in,” said Angela. “We can collect recipes that are good for us, and we can help each other eat right.”
It was a great idea, but ⦠Kizzy shook her head. “Once a month won't keep me on the wagon.”
“Me, either,” said Megan.
“Well, what if we met once a week?” Angela suggested. “Would Lionel mind?” she asked Kizzy.
“Not as long as he got to eat the leftovers,” said Kizzy. Although he probably wouldn't be real excited about leftover salads. Still, Lionel could stand to take some pounds off, himself. Heck, even Gus needed to slim his doggy figure.
“Bella,” said Angela, beaming. “Let's do it. If we started right away maybe I could lose twenty pounds in time for my birthday.”
“Okay, so who else wants to do this?” asked Kizzy.
“I will,” Megan said with a decisive nod.
“Me, too,” said Erin.
“Then we're all in,” said Kizzy, and the others nodded, smiling.
“We should have a plan for how we're going to make this work,” Megan suggested. “Maybe start with some research.”
“Stay out of the chips,” said Erin.
“Sign up for booty camp,” added Angela.
“Set goals,” said Kizzy.
“I can already tell you what mine will be,” Angela said. “I want to be in a bikini by summer. Brad's volunteered to host the office picnic out here in August and I'm going to outhot the office hottie.”
Kizzy made a face. “I haven't been near a bikini in over twenty years.”
“I've never worn one.” Megan said the words so softly, Kizzy wasn't sure she'd heard her.
“You've never worn one?” repeated Erin.
Megan shrugged. “Let's just say I never really had a bikini kind of body.”
Megan needed to loosen up, live a little, Kizzy decided. Yes, she was packing a chunk of extra pounds, but even so, with her green eyes and stylishly cut chestnut hair, Megan was still a pretty girl. There was more to life than being a support system for a great mind.
There was also more to life than being a support system for a spoiled stomach, Kizzy realized, thinking of the way she'd been living the last few years. She looked out her dining room window at the lake, tucked in under the cover of night. She could almost see herself lolling around on her dock in a cute little bikini, then ⦠“I'd love to be able to jump off my dock and swim across the lake,” she mused.
“I could go for just sitting on your dock in my new bikini and drinking girly drinks,” said Angela.
“And I'd love to have to take in my wedding gown,” said Erin, “and be able to take a bikini on my honeymoon.”
“Are you going someplace where you can actually wear one?” teased Megan. “For all you know, Adam could be taking you to the Motel Cheap in Tukwila.”
“I'll have you know we're going to Hawaii. Adam got a deal.”
At least Adam had done something right, Kizzy thought. “Well, then, let's do it,” she said.
“This is great,” said Erin. “I feel better already.”
“Me, too,” said Angela, smiling. “
Bene
. This is going to be fun.” Everyone looked at her like she was nuts. “Well, sort of,” she amended. “More fun than trying to lose weight alone. And ninety percent of the time when you've got a goal you've got a fifty-fifty chance of succeeding. I think I read that somewhere,” she added.
Bene
. This is going to be fun.” Everyone looked at her like she was nuts. “Well, sort of,” she amended. “More fun than trying to lose weight alone. And ninety percent of the time when you've got a goal you've got a fifty-fifty chance of succeeding. I think I read that somewhere,” she added.
Kizzy couldn't imagine where, but she kept her mouth shut.
“We should name ourselves,” Angela decided.
Megan looked disgusted. “Why do we need a name?”
“Just for fun,” Angela said. “How about the I-Hate-to-Diet Club?”
Erin rolled her eyes. “That's positive.”
“Let's think of something more inspiring,” Kizzy suggested.
Angela snapped her fingers. “I know! The Bikini Club.”
“No,” Erin corrected with a grin. “The Teeny Bikini Club. And when it's bikini season we'll all celebrate on Kizzy's dock wearing them.”
“Oh, I like it!” cried Angela. “We could do it on the Fourth of July.”
“Independence Day,” Erin said with a nod.
“I'll still look scary in a bikini by July,” Kizzy said. Angela frowned at her and she added, “But I'll do it.”
“I don't know,” said Megan.
“It's just going to be us girls,” Angela said. “Come on, it will be fun.”
“We'll see,” Megan said.
Kizzy knew what those words meant. She'd used them often enough over the years to placate her kids when she had no intention
of giving in. She understood Megan's reluctance. Megan probably had the most weight to lose. She wouldn't be bikini-ready by summer. But maybe, if she lost some weight, she'd at least feel encouraged.
of giving in. She understood Megan's reluctance. Megan probably had the most weight to lose. She wouldn't be bikini-ready by summer. But maybe, if she lost some weight, she'd at least feel encouraged.
Kizzy raised her glass of chocolate milk. “So, here's to the Teeny Bikini Diet Club. Starting tomorrow, we toss out all our chocolate stashes left over from the holidays.”
“And dump the cookies,” added Angela.
“And everyone finds a diet book and brings it to the first meeting,” Megan added. “We can set goals.”
Angela sighed. “I'm already going through baking withdrawals and we haven't even started.”
“You can make up something nonfattening for us,” Megan suggested.
“I like it,” Angela said with a nod.
“And we each have to start an exercise program,” added Erin, who was getting pumped.
The mention of exercise threw cold water on Kizzy's enthusiasm. It was one thing to imagine herself fit and fine, swimming the lake, but in reality she wasn't really a sports fanatic or a fitness freak. As far as she was concerned, gyms were places of torture. “I hate treadmills and bicycles.”
“You just have to find something that's fun,” Erin told her.
Kizzy grimaced. “There is no such thing.”
“Don't worry,” said Erin. “We'll help you find something to get you buzzed about exercise.”
That settled, they spent the rest of the evening brainstorming possible menu themes for future meetings, and by the time they were done everyone was excited.
“We are going to be hot by bikini season,” Angela crowed, doing a little boogie in her seat. “Totally bella.”
“I'm going to fit into my wedding dress,” said Erin, smiling.
“And we're all going to feel better, which is the most important thing of all,” added Kizzy.
“Now we just have one thing left to do,” said Megan.
“What's that?” asked Kizzy.
“We need to toss the cookies and cake and the casserole left-overs.”
“We can't toss out perfectly good food,” Kizzy protested. And besides, Lionel had left the house fantasizing about the treats he was going to enjoy when he got home from his bowling league. He'd be disappointed.
“If you send those cookies home with Angela you'll sabotage her,” Megan reasoned. “And if that cake stays here can you resist it?”
It was one thing to talk the talk, but Kizzy was already backing up from the idea of walking the walk. “Why don't I freeze it? Then we can eat it later in the year when we're all fit and fine.”
“I don't know about you, but a little thing like a freezer wouldn't keep me out of chocolate cake,” Megan said.
“She's right,” Angela said, her voice steely. “It all has to go. No gain, no pain.”
“That's no pain, no gain,” Megan corrected her absently.
“I made that cake from scratch,” Kizzy protested.
But Megan and Angela were already on their way out to the kitchen, Erin in hot pursuit.
Kizzy trailed them miserably. There were people starving in the world. It seemed so wasteful to throw away good food.
Who was she kidding? That had always been her excuse for not getting rid of things she shouldn't be eating. What not wasting food usually translated into was saving treats for future indulgence, and if she was going to carve a healthy new body for herself she was going to have to lose that kind of faulty thinking.
Gathered in the kitchen, they were just about to begin the food disposal ceremony, starting with the chocolate cake, when Kizzy got inspired. “Wait!” she cried, throwing herself in front of the garbage can. “I know a much better way to dispose of all of this. We can take the cookies down to my neighbor Faith to take to the
homeless shelter where she volunteers. And Linda Isaacson just had foot surgery. Her kids will inhale all these leftovers.”
homeless shelter where she volunteers. And Linda Isaacson just had foot surgery. Her kids will inhale all these leftovers.”
“Oh, great idea,” said Angela, clapping her hands. “Let's deliver them right now.”
“That works,” said Erin, grabbing the plate of cookies.
Five minutes later they were parading down the street, bearing foil-wrapped offerings to the neighbors, Erin and Angela giggling and singing the chorus to the Pretenders' “Brass in Pocket” loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear that they were special.
“Gonna lose my arms,” Erin sang, improving on the original lyrics. “Gonna lose my legs.”
“Gonna lose my butt,” added Angela, off-key.
“'Cause we're special,” they chorused.
Kizzy couldn't help smiling. Yes, they were.
Linda's family was excited over the food offering, the younger kids jumping up and down as their dad and oldest sibling took the goodies with grateful smiles. And Faith promised to put the cookies to good use.
“That felt good,” Erin said as they walked back.
“And it proves we're serious. From now on we start becoming different women,” Kizzy said.
“Better women,” added Megan.
Would losing weight make them better? Kizzy wondered.
She was still mulling it over when Lionel came home from bowling and started snooping around the kitchen for leftovers. “So where are the goods?”
“Gone.” Kizzy put her Fitz and Floyd salt and pepper shakers back on the counter next to the stove, then returned to the dining room and pulled her grandmother's old floral tablecloth off the table.
Lionel leaned dejectedly in the doorway. “You ate everything?”
“No,” she said, and started for the laundry room. “We gave it all away.”
“To who, and why?”
“To people who really could use it,” she said over her shoulder. “Some is going to the shelter with Faith tomorrow and some went to the Isaacsons. And as for the why, I don't want the temptation in the house.”
“People who could use it. Humph. I'd have used it,” he grumbled. She put the soiled tablecloth in the hamper and Lionel watched her morosely. “Here I come home hungry and you don't even give me my props.”
She came up to him and slid her hands up his chest. “I can give you your props right now if you want.”
He smiled, his irritation over the vanishing leftovers forgotten.
Kizzy couldn't help smiling, too, as Lionel started helping her out of her blouse. Men were so easily distracted.
If only women were, she thought later as she lay in bed, remembering that chocolate cake. She hadn't even gotten a taste of it, and there wasn't so much as a crumb left in the house.
She sighed and turned over onto her side. There was a reason diet was a four-letter word.
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