Chapter 3

Ten days later, Jenna was shopping at the grocery store she ran into Sloane. Sloane’s cart was filled with beer, chips, prepackaged salads, and a bag of potatoes, a roast beef, and some canned food items.



“Sloane!” Jenna started. “Oh, my lord!”

Sloane gave her a hug. “You look so good. How have you been?”

In fact, Sloane was shocked by her appearance – her face pale, eyes had lost their sparkle, and her hair had somehow lost its luster. Jenna still appealingly plump, but she looked sickly and drown. This was not the happy woman he had left back in NYC. She seemed a shadow of herself.

“Oh…fine,” she replied. “What are you doing in these parts?”

“My division was just transferred here. I moved into my new apartment yesterday – just picking up some supplies,” Sloane said, pointing to his full cart. “Say, why don’t you come for dinner tonight. I’m making a roast.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Sloane. You see I’ve been watching my weight…” she began.

“Oh, no pressure,” Sloane cut in. “Just a friendly dinner – promise. I wouldn’t want to force you to do anything you didn’t want to do.”

“I remember a time when you did,” Jenna said with a sly smile.

“You had said you wanted to so something like that when we corresponded…I’ll do whatever you want…even eat the entire roast if that’s what you desire,” Sloane answered, not quite believing what he just suggested.

Sloane had been overweight when he had met his soon to be ex-wife, Julia. As they dated and his happiness increased, so did his waistline. Two years after their wedding, he had ballooned to almost 350 pounds. Then Julia had gotten into a health kick, dropping all the baby weight and then some. She insisted that he do the same. It took well over a year before he took off the weight taking him down to a slimmer 195 pounds.

Meeting Jenna had not only made a lasting impression on his mind, but also on his waistline. It brought his weight to 218 pounds. This weight gain did not go unnoticed with Jenna. She noticed that his belly was a bit pudgier and his waist had thickened. She nearly blushed when she realized that she had been gawking at his midsection.

“Well, Vince will be attending a cocktail party in town tonight,” Jenna mused. “I think I can make it…yes…yes…I’ll be there.”

“Fantastic,” Sloane replied, writing down his address for her. It was only five miles from her home.

***

Jenna arrived at Sloane’s apartment around seven o’clock that evening. She stomped her feet, kicking off the loose snow from her brown, leather boots. She rang the bell and was buzzed in. Jenna slowly walked up the narrow stairwell of the old apartment building to the second floor. Sloane greeted her with a hug and took her coat. His eyes immediately took her in, moving up and down her form. She wore a tight-fitting chocolate-brown skirt, knee-length boots, and a chunky apricot-colored sweater- her belly poked out just enough to be visible.

He took her on a brief tour of the place. Mostly everything he owned was still back in NY in a storage unit, but Vince had given him some money for furnishings – a small kitchen table with two chairs, sofa, coffee table, and computer desk – all picked up the day before yesterday from IKEA. The futon bed and large, oak cedar chest holding most of his clothing were the only two things he brought from home other than a few boxes of books and some personal items.

At the conclusion of the tour, he showed her into the livingroom and poured her a glass of Merlot. Vivaldi’s Four Seasons was playing in the background. Sloane left her alone for a few minutes to put the finishing touches on their dinner – occasionally calling to her from the kitchenette. Jenna spent the time strolling around his livingroom, sipping her wine and browsing the bookshelves that were built into the walls. The shelves were lined with pictures of his sons as well as detective novels, a book on the history of food, assorted cookbooks, a few fitness related books, one on fly fishing, and a few travel guides about Rome, Paris, Boston, Germany, travel in the US Midwest, and England. Otherwise, there were a few stray boxes half-opened lining the bottom shelves.

“Dinner’s ready!” Sloane called into the livingroom.

Sloane had thrown a plain, linen tablecloth across the small round table and place a vase of Jenna’s favorite flowers, yellow roses, at its center. A heaping bowl of mashed potatoes, brown gravy, plain green salad, and parker house rolls, and mixed steamed vegetables joined the roast beef.

I KNOW I SHOULDN’T EAT, BUT I’M SO HUNGRY. PERHAPS A LITTLE WON’T REALLY HURT, Jenna said to herself.

Jenna ate with great enthusiasm finishing the large portions Sloane had doled out for her. His plate also was piled high with the rich, well-seasoned food. Her stomach not used to the weight of a good dinner began to visibly swell, protruding sharply from under her sweater.



Sloane’s own belly began to pooch outward becoming rounder and more pronounced – his chinos feeling increasingly constrictive. He made sure his eating matched her own so she didn’t feel that she was being deliberately fattened for the slaughter – which consequently was exactly what her husband had in mind for her. But he put those thoughts to the back of his mind and concentrated on how much better his meal was when Jenna shared it with him.