Chapter 2 - morning

His mouth felt like it was stuffed full of cotton wool. His eyes opened on an unfamiliar ceiling. Where-

“Morning, sleepyhead,” sang Mara’s voice. “Lucky for you it’s a snow day. Ice storm came up last night.”

She loomed into view over him, looking cute in an oversized purple sweater and yoga pants. She handed him a glass of water.

“But the power’s still on. So first off, you’re going to take a shower, because you smell like a dumpster behind a distillery in Stornoway. I’ve put some towels and clothes in the bathroom for you. Then you’re going to have breakfast and tell me what the hell is going on.”

He grinned. He’d always liked it when she was bossy. Plus the water was restoring him to life.

The hot water was a blessing. Like most women, it seemed, Mara had a bewildering array of bottles, lotions and ointments in the shower. The one he’d picked smelled refreshingly of mint. He stepped out of the tub and wiped steam from the full length mirror. He looked at his body. If he was honest with himself-

If he was honest with himself, he liked what he saw. Wide shoulders and solid, meaty arms. A generous dad bod verging on full fatso. Thick love handles and a belly with a gentle upside heart shape at the bottom, with the hint of a hang. Thick thighs.

The clothes Mara had found for him consisted of comically short stretchy black leggings and a unisex size Large t-shirt with “Terry Fox Run Volunteer” printed on it. It clung precariously to his belly, which threatened to peek out at every moment. The fact was, his xl shirts were getting a bit snug, so a mere large would never do. But the clothes he’d worn last night did not pass the sniff test.

When he emerged, a new man, Mara was in the kitchen mixing up a batter in a bowl. He poured himself another glass of water and drained it.

“Making pancakes,” she said. “Sit. Talk.”

“How many pancakes do I get?”

She gave him the eyeball.

“One.”

“Just one? But I’m a growing boy.”

She flushed at that, unmistakably. But- “Wait until you see the size of the pancake,” she growled. “Now. Tell me.”

He gathered his thoughts.

“I’m sorry about last night, Mara,” he said. “That wasn’t how I wanted things to go. I got some bad news yesterday. My ex, Angela, you remember her? She was badly injured in a car accident. Maybe paralyzed. And I remember thinking, could I have stopped it? If I hadn’t ended things? Would she have even been there? And I wanted to stop my thoughts for a little while, so I drove down to Vinnie’s pub - that’s where my car is - and I had a drink. And then a few more, and then suddenly I was fucking blitzed for the first time in seven years. And I started walking - lost my coat somewhere, but my phone must have been in the pocket of my jeans - and I felt so lost. And then at Agricola and Vine I had an epiphany. It felt like an epiphany at the time, anyway, that I needed to live my authentic, true self. And my authentic, true self really wanted to talk to you.”

Mara brought a plate containing one massive pancake, the size of the cast iron pan, to the table and set it in front of Jonathan.

“I’m so sorry,” she said quietly.

He poured maple syrup onto the thick pancake.

“It’s not even about me,” he said. “But she was important to me for five years and I just... it’s hard to believe... I was angry with her, but I didn’t want... this.”

He felt Mara’s hand squeeze his shoulder and then move away. She walked back to the stove and poured more batter into the pan.

“How much do you remember of last night?” She asked, studiously not looking at him.

He paused with the fork halfway to his mouth.

“Everything,” he said.

“Everything everything?” Asked Mara. “Are you sure? Because... some stuff happened.”

He licked a syrupy finger. “Let’s see... you picked me up, we went to Burger King, I ate a king’s feast, we came here, I asked if you wanted to kiss me, you said you did but I was drunk so you couldn’t, you gave me a belly rub because you like my fat belly, and I fell asleep. Is that everything everything?”

“You do remember,” she breathed.

“You still haven’t kissed me. Even though I’m not drunk now,” he pointed out.

Mara crossed the room. His brown eyes looked up at her. She leaned down and kissed him, and suddenly her hands were in his hair and she was straddling his legs. The universe itself seem to slow to a crawl as time dilated. It was A Kiss.

“My pancake!” Mara leapt up to save it from burning.

“Let it burn,” laughed Jonathan.

“No,” said Mara. “You’re going to eat every bite of that pancake, and then every bite of this pancake, because you’re right, I do like your fat belly and I’m going to make sure it stays nice and fat.”

“Or gets a bit fatter?”

“As fat as you want it to be,” she replied.

“That might be very fat,” he said. “Maybe even very, very fat.”

“Good,” she said.

It must be said that he did eventually eat both pancakes, although it may have taken rather a long time, what with all the kissing and fondling going on.