The Tribuo - 35. Part IV, chapter 7

- VII -

EMMA

Tara finally came at six-thirty, and she looked exhausted.

“Damn him,” she muttered when I opened the door.

“Who?” I asked and stepped aside, letting her in.

“Allen,” she muttered. “He made me retype the entire goddamn thing that I did this morning…”

“Why?” I frowned and she sighed.

“Wrong format, wrong fonts, wrong something else… I was thinking about just changing the format, but I ended up deleting the damn thing…”

“Ouch,” I winced.

“Yeah… What’s wrong?” she asked suddenly, and I blinked.

“Nothing,” I said quickly. “Why?”

“You look like something is bothering you,” she said and carefully took off her shoes.

“I am fine,” I said as lightly as I possibly could. “Just tired.”

“Hey, is it all right if I take a shower right now?” she asked almost pleadingly. “I am so tired, I don’t think I’ll be able to do it later…”

“Sure,” I nodded. “Let me get you a clean towel.”

“Thanks!” she breathed and followed me.

“I’ll make tea while you are in the shower,” I said and she smiled at that.

“Fantastic!” she sounded so grateful that I laughed.

I started making tea while the water ran in the shower, and I kept biting my lip. Tara was right -- something was wrong. First of all, I gained another five pounds, even though all clothes that I had, felt loose.

“That’s because you stretched it, dear,” my mother whispered in my head. “You stretched all that fabric with your abundance of flesh!”

Also there was the fact that I was going out with Russell tomorrow, which was beyond wrong. He is so much younger than I am -- eight years! It felt like a century. And he was a student, which was disastrous. I almost said no to him when he offered dinner, but before I knew it, my mouth blurted, “Yes.”

“You are just a fat, desperate woman,” my mother sighed. “You know that you are worthless, and you are ready to cling to anyone… That boy… This girl who is in your shower right now… By the way, are you going to try and take advantage of her as well? Because that’s exactly what you are doing with that boy, Emma. You are taking advantage of him!”

I felt tears stinging the back of my eyes when the water in the shower stopped running. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and put on one of my best smiles. Tara came out of the bathroom, brushing her wet hair off her face.

“Hey,” she said. “Do you have a new battery?”

“Battery?” I frowned. “What kind of a battery?”

“Double A,” she said. “Your weight scale just showed that I weigh two-hundred-and-fifty pounds… I mean, I know that I gained a little weight, but not that much!” she laughed, and I just stared at her.

The battery?! Oh my God… It hadn’t even occurred to me. This whole time I was going crazy about gaining weight… Could it simply be the fact that the battery was almost dead?

“Don’t flatter yourself, darling,” my mother sighed. “The battery has nothing to do with it. You are a fat, worthless piece of fl…”

“Yeah,” I said. “I have a battery.”

…Tara slid the battery inside the weight scale, and carefully put the lid on top of the slot. Then she set the scale back on the floor and turned it on.

“Okay,” she muttered and stepped on it. “Let’s see… Ah!” she breathed with satisfaction. “Much better!”

I looked at the electronic digits. It read 120. God… If I weighed that much, I’d look almost obscene! Tara, however, looked perfect. She stepped off, and was about to turn the scale off, when I stopped her.

“Hold on,” I said. “I want to see how much I weigh.”

She stepped aside, and I took a deep breath. Here we go… I stepped on the scale and the screen started blinking at me, adjusting to my weight. I couldn’t make myself to look at it. Then I heard Tara's low whistle.

“Good Lord,” she muttered.

I looked at the screen and blinked. It read 92. No, it can’t be…

“You are one tiny woman,” Tara said. “Now let’s go eat something, I am starving!”

She left the bathroom, and I just stood there, staring at the digits.

*****

It was an hour later, and Tara was making French toast. Oh, God, help me, it smelled so good that it made my eyes water. She put several slices on the plate and set it in front of me.

“Let’s eat before I pass out,” she grinned and sat across the table from me.

“I am not hungry,” I shook my head and she shrugged.

“Eat one slice,” she said and grabbed a toast from the plate. “It won’t kill you. Otherwise, I’ll end up eating the whole damn thing, and then I won’t fit into my jeans again…”

I started saying no again, but then my hand just acted out of its own will. It reached the plate and grabbed a slice of toast. It was still hot and it burned my fingers, but I didn’t care. Before I knew it, I ate the whole thing. It tasted wonderful. The minute I swallowed the last piece, however, I was hit with a huge wave of stinging guilt. Oh God, I just ate this, didn’t I? I will gain weight again, and this time the battery will have nothing to do with it… I was trying to make my hands stop shaking, when Tara asked, “Is it all right if I smoke on your balcony?”

I looked at her and my hands relaxed a little.

“Sure,” I said. “I’ll go with you.”

We went on my balcony, and I shivered when the wind hit me unexpectedly. It seemed that Tara didn't even notice it. She just stood there, leaning on the wall, smoking with her eyes half-closed.

“Ummm, Tara?” I said without a slightest clue why I was going to say what I was about to say.

“Mmm?” she asked.

“Do you think it’s wrong for an older woman to go out with a younger man?” I said and was thankful when she didn’t open her eyes in horror.

“Why would it be wrong?” she asked instead.

“Well… Because she is older…” I muttered. “And…. What if she is… I don’t know… A teacher or something… And he is a student?”

Now her eyes were open. She looked at me thoughtfully, and there was something in her gaze that made me uneasy. Then she closed her eyes again.

“It depends,” she said finally.

“On what?” I asked in a small voice.

“Lots of different things,” she dragged on her cigarette. “For example, if the student is of legal age…”

“Let’s say, he is…”

“Okay… If she is in a position of power then… For example, if his grade depends on…”

“No,” I said too quickly. “Let’s say, that he is not even in her class.”

“Then I don’t know,” she opened her eyes again. “I don’t see anything wrong with it, but…” she shrugged. “It also depends on the school policy.”

“Right…” I muttered. I did not think of that.

“You never think, darling,” my mother chimed in immediately, and I shut her up. To my enormous surprise, it worked.

Tara stabbed her cigarette in the empty saucer.

“I am going to bed,” she yawned. “I can barely keep my eyes open… Thank you so much, Emma! For inviting me and…”

“Don’t mention that,” I interrupted her with a smile. “Go to bed. I’ll sit here for a bit. I like fresh air.”

“Good night!” she said and went back inside.

“Night,” I muttered, and this time I didn’t hold back my tears.