26. Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter 26
Leslie
A rguing voices pierced my slumber. Groggy, I stretched, sweeping my hand on the bed next to me, and found Risto gone. I rolled over to press my face into the mattress on his side. Both to breathe him in and to shield the day’s brightness from penetrating my closed eyelids.
When I opened one eye, the sun assaulted me through the sheers masquerading as curtains. I sat up, leaning back on my hands as I squinted to adjust.
Weren’t guys supposed to have blackout shades?
I guessed owning a restaurant meant you were up early and to bed late. Likely, Risto wasn’t in this room much during daylight hours.
That’s going to change.
The voices downstairs grew more animated.
Spanish.
Two people; no, three.
I flipped the covers off to creep over to the bedroom door and listen.
The muffled conversation was hard to make out, not that my Spanish skills were up to the task.
What was going on?
I scanned the room for my clothes before realizing they were strewn across Risto’s kitchen floor downstairs.
Shit.
After exploring a few dresser drawers, neat as a pin, of course, I found the T-shirts. I slipped on a worn-out gray one from the Indiana University of Pennsylvania, the top-notch culinary school Risto attended as a scholarship student. That led to a paid externship at a glitzy bistro in Pittsburgh. He probably would have stayed out there and settled, if not for the over five-hour drive home to see his ailing grandparents. There was no way to predict at the time that his sacrifice would lead to a gig at a restaurant that would one day become his own.
I crept down the stairs, and when my legs came into view, the arguing stopped.
That was when the television audio registered. I rounded the front of the screen to see a morning news crew on a couch, a still photo of my YouTube video over their shoulder.
“… it has the internet on fire. When a respected journalist like Allen makes accusations of this significance, then disappears, it’s a cause for concern. Our calls to NBC and Dear Diary have not been returned. But the CDC has come forward, claiming it has not buried the results of the revised study.”
“Then why haven’t they changed their own policies? Or mentioned it as widely as the initial false data? That organization has to answer…”
Risto clicked the television off.
Barefoot, I stood in disbelief that my YouTube confessional had gone viral in a matter of hours. I’d been too blissfully unplugged to notice. Dot and I ate a yummy dinner, took Pepper for a walk, then I sat listening to crickets until Risto arrived. Never in recent memory had I just savored being in my body. Enjoying its solidness, the strength, and later the marvelous passion, without guilt or fear.
Meanwhile, a firestorm swirled in network newsrooms.
Huh.
Even now my immediate reaction was curiosity rather than panic.
Gabby strolled over, dangling my jeans from a belt loop using one finger as she suppressed a smirk. “Need pants?”
I cracked a smile, then padded behind the kitchen island to slip them on. “Guess I poked a hornet’s nest yesterday.”
“My phone has been ringing off the hook all morning. When you didn’t come home, I worried something bad had happened to you. The news made it sound like you were a danger to yourself, but you were fine last night…”
“News is psychological manipulation, designed to keep viewers on edge. Fear keeps eyeballs glued to screens, refreshing every minute for updates about how shitty everything is. They don’t want to miss the moment things change for the better—or worse.”
“You’re not like that,” Gabby said.
“I am and I’m not. But I think people follow my work because I give information and leave them free to arrive at their own conclusions.”
“Well, their conclusion is that you’re off floating in a river somewhere, having offed yourself,” Gabby said. “The truth makes the panic seem really silly. But you need to go back online and let everyone know you’re okay.”
“Jump on the internet to say I was drinking wine on a summer evening, then had crazy sex with my boyfriend?”
“Boyfriend?!” Gabby and Dot yelled in unison, their mouths dropping open in identical Os.
“Yes. I mean, you meant it, right?” I asked Risto, half afraid his agreement the night before was a dream.
He strolled over, wrapped me in his arms, and planted a loving kiss on my lips. “I did. Every word.”
Dot crossed herself. “Gracias a Dios.”
“I’ll second that.” Gabby crossed herself too.
“Oh, come on, you two,” I joked. But my wide smile betrayed my utter relief to be with Risto. This time for good.
“Okay, I’ve got to get to work. We have an on-site today.” Gabby pried me away from my man to give me a squeeze, then linked elbows. “Walk me out?”
We left through the back sliding door, then rounded the house, out of sight.
“First, I’m so happy for you. I really hope this works out,” Gabby said.
“You and me both. Risto has always been ‘the one.’ You get that better than anyone.”
She smiled. “True. So about yesterday’s video. That’s a big step, telling the world about your eating disorder. Are you okay?”
Worry creased Gabby’s face. I was so elated to lose the shame and reunite with Risto that I’d overlooked the bombshell I’d dropped on those around me. With the truth out in the ether, a weight had lifted. Eating disorders thrived in the shadows, and that was definitely the case for me. In some ways, bearing the secret was worse than having the disorder. Hard days lay ahead for me. But right now I chose to be optimistic, eager to take the next step on a journey that led back to me.
“Yeah, I’m good. I’ve been eating steady every day and getting my mind right. Plus, I’m blessed to be here, sandwiched between two of the best cooks I know.”
“You could do worse!” Gabby gave me a hug, got into her car, and backed out of her mom’s driveway.
When I got back inside, Risto was cooking, and Dot sat sipping her coffee.
“So,” she said. “Am I losing a roommate?”
“Not until you’re fully well,” I said and meant it. Three weeks post-surgery, and she was already resuming some normal routines. We’d gone for walks daily, but I still did all the lifting for groceries and laundry baskets and had been handling the cleaning.
“The doctor said if I’m good after next week’s visit, I can resume yoga.”
“That’s great. Maybe I’ll give it a try.”
Dot almost spit out her coffee but recovered, dabbing her chin with a napkin from the dispenser on the counter. “I’d like to see that.”
Risto divided eggs, chorizo, fruit, and toast onto two plates and slid them before me and Dot. “It’s been lovely, ladies, but I need to get going. Big day today. The investors are coming.”
I’d been so consumed with my situation I’d lost track that Risto had a busy life too. And a huge opportunity waiting for him.
“Nervous? Excited? About to puke?” I asked.
He laughed. “All of that, and more.” He paused. “I hope it goes well, but I’m scared shitless about what it means for it to go well. Basically, I’m a wreck.”
He’d been preparing for this moment his whole life. He deserved to enjoy it.
I rounded the counter to give him a hug. “You’ll be magnificent. No matter what happens, you’re already a success. If this is what you want, you’ll find an investor. Today, or another day.”
He kissed my waiting lips. “Thanks.”
Risto opened a kitchen drawer and pressed a set of keys into my hands. Without another word, he left.
I opened my hand to see the key chain and startled. The loop held three keys and a mini picture of the two of us on the amusement park ride. I looked up to see him through the front picture window, backing the car out of the driveway. The man I loved had been prepared for us to reunite. A knot tightened in my chest, forcing tears out of my eyes. I looked up to find Dot watching me.
“Come here, munequita.” She opened her arms. I sank into her embrace, her soft hands stroking my head. “There’s a lot of love there. You two will make it. I’ve always known. But we also need to be sure you’re well on your own. You’ll be no good to anyone if you’re not whole for yourself.”
I knew she was right. Talking big on YouTube was one thing. Making it work in my everyday life was something else. I hadn’t considered all the implications and unintended consequences of feeding myself. I’d read so much about set points, I was curious to find out where my body wanted me to be. What it would mean for me to live in a larger body, especially one like my aunt’s and Risto’s. How would the world treat me? How would Mom react?
I stiffened.
Fuck.
My mom.
She had to be one of the many calls I’d missed while I was with Risto. I scrambled around the living room, looking for my phone, finding it on the entryway table. Of the scores of missed messages I’d received from Viraj, Rebecca, Barbara, Dad, editors, and producers I worked with, including from The Kaelen Reed Show , many were from my mom. Her last one left my blood cold.
“Call me, or I’m coming.”
Oh no.
Those words fried my nerve endings, sending my fingers fumbling with the phone until I dropped it on the floor. Shit . I picked it up and jogged up the stairs.
“I’ll be right back,” I hollered to my aunt, who had probably never seen me move that fast.
Once in Risto’s bedroom, I shut the door and braced it with my back. This was not a conversation I wanted to have with my mother. Perhaps ever, but certainly not right now. Not when I was just getting my footing and could easily slip back into an abyss.
But I’d changed.
I could no longer be manipulated into thinking the way I’d been living was good for me. Plus, I was an adult with a loving family around me that would support me as I got well.
My panic eased, replaced by rebellion. I wasn’t six years old and no longer had to observe her food fetishes. That was what they were. Hers. She’d successfully indoctrinated me, with zero regard for my health or safety. I was sure that wasn’t her intent, but the result was the same. The woman who gave birth to me and raised me was also the one who set me on the path to being sick.
A jumble of emotions warred for supremacy. Anger. Frustration. Fear. Righteousness for my new way of thinking. Sadness for all the years I wasted blindly following a woman I now knew to be ill herself. I couldn’t let anyone, not even my mother, inject doubts into my orbit that’d only tangle me up. I wasn’t going back to the cage. It only kept me alone and spiraling. The new me had grown beyond its boundaries.
Inhaling deeply, my burning lungs were rewarded with Risto’s scent. The rumpled bedding of where we’d slept lay before me. We’d live here and build a life together. I strolled to his side of the bed, sitting next to his pillow and hugging it to my chest for protection. His personal essence reminding me I was no longer alone. A mix of shampoo, laundry detergent, and musk—mashed up into a botanical signature all his own. With Risto at work, his fragrance would have to suffice.
I tapped my mom’s number while reclining on my side, cupping the pillow like a swollen, pregnant belly. It was the first time the idea of living in a large body struck me as wonderful. Life-giving. Maybe I’d birth a new and better version of myself. One who wasn’t so hungry and pissed off all the time.
Mom answered midway through the first ring.
“What the hell is going on?! I wake up to find my daughter headlining every news channel? I knew going to see those people was a mistake. Now what you need to do is—”
“Stop. Just stop. Did you even bother to watch my video, or did you blow up after hearing distorted summaries?”
I could imagine her shocked blinking across the miles.
“Yeah, I thought so.” I moved Risto’s pillow away so I could stand. “You have a distorted relationship with food and passed that along to me. I’ve been miserable and sick, stuck in a weird limbo ever since. I’ve felt like crap for years without fully understanding why. But that’s over. I’ve been so afraid of gaining an ounce that I’ve stayed away from the people I love. It’s wrong. You’ve been wrong all along.”
“Now wait just a minute—”
“It’s a sickness. You can stay this way if you want, but I’m getting help. And for the time being, I think it’s best if we didn’t talk to each other.”
“What have they done to you? Your head is filled with a bunch of lies, and suddenly I’m to blame? So what? You’re going to eat yourself fat and die?” Her voice dripped with the disgust I heard from the rest of society. The ones who hadn’t yet realized they were trapped in a hamster wheel, running for the amusement of the industries growing rich with profits. Well, fuck that. I was stepping off.
“I’m following the treatment plan the doctors have given me. If my body is meant to be fat, then that’s where I’ll end up. Are you saying I’m only worthy of your love if I starve myself? If I struggle in a depleted body incapable of giving you a grandchild?”
“What?”
“Need a period to have a baby, Mom.”
“You don’t get periods?” she asked, genuinely shocked.
“No. I never have gotten them regularly. Only right after my summer visits here. They’d return for a short while but stop once I got home. Now I know it’s because I ate properly for long enough to kick-start my system. Mind you, I’m not dying for my monthlies. But I’d love a sign that my body has what it needs to give life.”
I rotated to face Risto’s room. Our room now. I’d never thought about having a baby. But the idea had fluttered across my brain twice in the span of a few minutes. Maybe it hadn’t before because I lacked a partner and presumed my plumbing wasn’t up for the job. The concept of being responsible for another person made me want to get well all the more.
Mom’s crying drew me back.
“I just wanted you to be healthy. To have a long life and be happy. You’re going to undo everything we’ve worked for.”
I pictured myself walking through open cage doors and filling my lungs with the air of freedom.
“You’re right. And I’ve already started.”