chapter 5

It was in the tenth month following their split that Peter got the letter confirming his divorce from Mary Jane. There were no other conditions, just the reason stated as “irreconcilable differences.”

Peter heaved himself up from his chair with some difficulty, and picked up the last remaining framed photo of MJ in his apartment. He opened a drawer and tossed the picture inside, then slammed the door closed.

Peter left the apartment and walked a few doors down to Nancy’s Diner, a place he clearly frequented since, as soon as he stepped in the door, a waiter cried out, “Peter! The usual?”

Peter sat down at a table (the booths had become too much of a tight squeeze). “Make it double my usual order, Marcel.”

Almost instantly plates of food were being delivered to Peter’s table by an attractive waitress. He quietly thanked them and dug in.

#

“Do you think you’ve had enough to eat, Peter?” Aunt May asked.

She looked at the huge stack of wheat cakes that he’d devoured already, and then glanced down to his stomach, which truly could no longer be ignored. It pressed into the table, causing Peter to have to lean forward and reach to get to his plate.

“I cood have shum more,” Peter said through a mouthful of food.

“Alright, dear,” Aunt May said, standing and disappearing into the kitchen only to return a few moments later with another stack of wheat cakes.

“Thunk ooo,” Peter said, still chewing.

After several more minutes of listening to Peter chew, Aunt May broke the silence. “It is good to finally see you with such a… robust appetite, Peter. For so many years it seemed I could barely get anything into you!” Peter chuckled, but didn’t stop chewing. “But I’ve noticed that lately, in the last few months, have grown a rather, um, fuller figure.” She tried not to look at his gut as she continued. It consumed much of his lap now, and to lean forward he needed to spread his legs wide to give it room to bulge down between his thighs. “Do you think maybe you’ve had enough?”

Peter shrugged, still stuffing more food into his mouth. “I just can’t help it, Aunt May, I just can’t seem to stop… It’s like I can’t get full! And it all tastes sooooo good!”

Aunt May patted Peter’s arm and smiled kindly at him. “Well, as long as you are happy, Peter. I suppose that is all that matters.”