More Than A New Dress

Kim sheds pounds to fit a new dress, and finds a new life. For the 30 Day Image Prompt.

More Than A New Dress

Okay so I have to confess. It had already been three weeks and not one cheating calorie entered my mouth. I had things totally under control. Weight watchers had nothing on me. The pounds were flying off. Well actually I had lost ten pounds. But seriously – they say the best way to lose weight is slowly. I read in a magazine once that fat cells stretch like balloons, so as you lose weight it’s like deflating the balloon. If the weight comes off slowly, the cell has a chance to shrink a little, and it will then take longer to put the weight back on. Makes sense to me.

So let’s get back to the point of my rant. It had already been three weeks of staying on track, cutting out the nasty calories. It hadn’t been easy. I love ice cream, chocolate, strawberry’s with fresh whipped cream. I love my salad dressings, deep fried food, and potato chips. Frankly I have never in my life needed to worry about weight. I have always been one of those sickening people who can lose weight by thinking. Weight sheds so easily that I have always been on the skinny side. But now, things have changed. I am single, in my thirties, and anxious to impress one particular man who could, given the opportunity, put all my ducks back in a row.

Sharon, my amazingly best and happily married with 4 children friend, had a plan. The target of my affection is Paul, a VIP at the cosmetics company that Sharon works for. It took a few weeks for her to convince me that her plan would work.

“You can’t just invite him to a dinner party and expect he’ll come. You barely know him. And even if, by some long shot…” my heart had skipped a beat, “how can you be sure he’ll come alone?”

Sharon had a twist. Her husband, who owns a cyclist shop, had the pleasure of befriending Paul during a number of marathons over the last two years. She assured me that, according to her husband, Paul would jump at the chance to attend the party, and has nobody in tow.
“He won’t be telling Paul I have eyes on him, will he?” Panic had started ripping my throat apart at the thought, and the words scratched as they flew out of my mouth. Sharon convincing me, lightheartedly, that my paranoia needed to be tamed, had walked out of the room.

We, Sharon and I, started shopping almost immediately. Any good excuse if fine for me, and this was an especially good one! It was on the third visit to a local dress shop that I saw the dress. It hung with an invisible aura of sunlight, speaking only to me. I wanted that dress. I had already tried on dozens of dresses, felt frustrated, and had settled my mind on the usual dress pants and blouse. The dress felt like a second chance. It was the cloth that would change my life forever. It was one of a kind, and that was the downfall; the dress didn’t fit. The bulge that had accumulated across my abdomen, after years of neglected exercise and indulgent eating, and the extra padding on my hips, preparing me for the children I had started to think would never be possible, seemed to laugh sarcastically as the material stretched and the zipper refused to zip all the way to the top.

I had no intention of giving up. I bought the dress, hung it in my closet, and went on a diet. I had three weeks left before the party and if that dress didn’t fit, I had no intention of going! Well, I probably would have gone anyway, since the dinner was being arranged with my love life in mind, but I would have been in slacks. The diet was only part of my challenge. I took out a membership to the local gym; the one on the corner a block away from home. This is the gym that I have driven past each day on the half mile trek to work. I also started walking to work. I started to notice all the bad habits that have pulled me down over the years. My routines have been sectioned around these habits. Can’t afford the movies, but I’m making a car payment so I don’t have to exercise during my workday! How pathetic I had found myself.

It was a Friday morning, the day before our big dinner party. I was breathless, filled with anxiety, as Sharon lifted my dress from its hanger. There was no need to struggle, the dress glided onto my frame with such ease, as though it was made specifically for me. It was a perfect fit. My hard work and determination had paid off. Ten pounds of weight loss and hours of toning and self-care had transformed more than just my frame.

My mind felt more alive, energized by a new outlook. I had transformed my lifestyle and as I stared in the mirror, admiring the dress, I saw a new me. I realized something that had never occurred to me before. Was I single for the simple reason that I have been woven into a structured cocoon so tightly that I have not given myself the chance to meet people, let alone to form lasting relationships? It was an epiphany. I shared my thoughts with Sharon.

“Don’t tell me you aren’t into Paul anymore?” she said. I assured her this was not the case; my desire to pull this man into my life had not changed.

That night I tossed and turned, anxiety waking me at all hours. The next day seemed to make a mockery of time. I had never witnessed it going so slowly. Finally it was time. I walked up the road to where Sharon lived, and as I entered the home, heart racing, my make-up, hair, and dress were all arranged to perfection. A number of guests had arrived, all couples. My heart sank when Paul’s smile did not come into view.

“Relax, he hasn’t arrived yet. He’ll be here. Go and mingle, grab a drink from the bar. Relax will you?” Sharon fluttered about me. She appeared almost as nervous as I, and this made me realize just how badly she wanted me to be happy. I realized the value of such friendship.

It was six-thirty. The guests would be seated for the meal very soon and Paul had still not arrived. I had become increasingly restless and my mood was starting to deflate. I had just listened to a fifteen minute rendition of Helen and David Page’s airport experience, during their last holiday together. I excused myself from the company and made my way to the kitchen again, through the swing doors, ready for another drink. That’s when I saw it.

It was an amazing, perfectly rounded Black Forest Cake; my favorite! I couldn’t take the pressure anymore. I had experienced a gruelling few weeks of starvation. Not quite but still – I’d eaten none of my favorite foods! I had walked, jogged, lifted weights, spent money on the gym which could have filled the tank in my car, and found the most perfect dress for this occasion. Here I was, still alone, watching all the other couples grovel over each other, chat about holidays and kids, holding hands and sharing little quips. Then Paul didn’t show. The center of my attention, the reason I was here stuffed into a dress that would have been two sizes too small if the starvation had not occurred. He would now continue to be an unrealized dream. I grabbed the cake slicer and a plate, cutting myself a large piece of the desert without care that a delicious meal was yet to be served. I just could not take it anymore!

It felt so good to lift the cake to my mouth, feel its sweet charm against my taste buds. I felt the cream icing tap against my nose. My hands, since I chose to hastily use them instead of a fork, were covered, and I tried to shove as much into my mouth as possible. I was alone in the kitchen. The couples still chatted in the other room, and I could hear their laughter. The cake was my pacifier, my comfort.
Suddenly the kitchen door swung open. I had my back to it but could hear Sharon talking. I swung around, cake dropping its crumbs onto the clean linoleum. My face, hands, and heart were a mess. Surely Sharon would understand.

“Kim, I want you to meet Paul. He was delayed by the…” Her words fell away with the door as it swung closed behind her. “What… Kim! Are you ok?”

Paul was laughing as I moved towards them both. The cake still making it impossible to talk, and habit forced my hand quickly to my thigh where I wiped a fresh smear of chocolate across the pink silk fabric. Horror resonated in my eyes as I realized what I had just done. Paul laughed.

“Chocolate cake eh? You seem like my type of gal.” He moved to my side with a napkin, took my hand and began to help me, as you would a child, remove the evidence.

1560 words. Written for the 30 Day Image Prompt Contest