Chapter 3 - new sweats

It was dark and the curtains were drawn when I finally stirred into consciousness. The TV was still on, and mum was sitting watching the X-Factor. My eyes opened slowly to a blonde, skinny girl singing a Marvin Gaye cover. I wasn’t that fond of the X-Factor, because the judges always seemed to be so mean to the contestants, but I reckoned it was almost over, so I wouldn’t badger mum to change the channel. I stretched my arms above my head and yawned gently.

“Hello again love,” mum said, turning to look at me from the chair to my right. She had her feet up, cradling a cup of tea with a couple of biscuits on her stomach.

“Hey Mum,” I murmured, feeling myself wake up slightly, “have I been asleep long?”

“Oh, a couple of hours maybe,” she replied, putting the cup of tea down on the side table, “there’s a fresh pot of tea if you’d like some, and some biscuits?”

“Oh yeah, that’d be wonderful,” I replied eagerly.

“Alright love,” she replied, already pushing herself upright. I guess she knew I would say yes.

An after dinner nap had been quite a regular thing recently, usually only interrupted if my friend Cheryl came by to visit. We’d been friends all through school, and had both taken to a homebody life afterwards. We’d been the outcasts and the lonely ones in the past, and had bonded together closely through our shared personality traits. Mum used to say we were like sisters, but better because we didn’t fight as much.

She would often come round for dinner, and tell us about her mum’s attempts to put her on a diet.

“She’s taken all the biscuits away again, Joy,” she would say to my mum, cradling a big bowl of macaroni cheese or a plate of pizza and chips.

“I would never do that to Melanie,” my mum would reply, voice tinged with disapproval. She would often give Cheryl the same portions as me, almost out of sympathy. Though Cheryl was a large girl, she wasn’t as large as me. In fact, I’d occasionally offer her my hand me downs, clothes I’d long grown out of, and usually in a size that Cheryl had just grown into.

Mum came back in, holding an extra large mug full of sweet, creamy tea and a whole pack of chocolate chip cookies.

“Here you go darling,” she said, putting them down on the coffee table.

I realised at that point I needed to go pee, and I held my hands out towards her. I could get up alright on my own, I guess, but I’d always been taught there was no shame in asking for help.

Without another word, she pushed the coffee table back, stood in front of me and took my hands.

“One, two,” I said softly.

“Three,” we said in unison, and I pulled and tried to get my legs moving as she did, heaving my bulk out of the soft, sagging couch cushions. Standing, I huffed out a couple of long breaths. Mum squeezed my hands gently, before leaning forward and kissing me on the top of my head.

“I went and put your shopping in your room, love,” she said quietly.

“Thanks.”

I slowly waddled out of the living room and into the hall, still feeling the remains of my dinner pushing my stomach out and making it a little more difficult to move. I stood for a second at the foot of the stairs, looking up, like they were a demon that had to be conquered or some sort of immense trial to be overcome. Puffing out a preparatory breath, I grabbed the handrail and pulled myself up, one slow step at a time. I had to be careful, as I couldn’t see my feet and I had a little trouble balancing, what with my belly and all. Half way up, I could feel my cheeks getting a bit flush, and my breath getting a little more ragged. Every step my thighs would have to fight against my belly, and I’d have to pull myself up with the handrail to make it a little easier.

When I got to the top, I poked my head into my bedroom. Yep, mum had left all the bags sitting at the foot of the bed, and she’d also tidied up and made the bed itself. I had a habit of getting hungry late at night, either before I went to sleep, or often in the middle of the night, and I’d wake up with crumbs and wrappers in the bed. I would try to tidy up, but I had a bit of difficulty bending over to pick up the mess, so I would have to leave some of it to mum. She would never complain or make a point of it like some parents, like Cheryl’s parents would.

I realised that I was still wearing my trousers and shirt, and wanted to get into something a little less restricting. Even though I only buy elastic waistbands, at home I prefer some comfy sweats and a strap top. I smiled. Of course, I had my new sweats to try on!

I sat on the bed, and carefully leaning back a little, shuffled the tight, restricting trousers off my hips and kicked them off my ankles towards the far corner of the room. It was a good job these weren’t so tight on the legs as they were around the waist, otherwise I’d have a heck of a job getting them off. I then unbuttoned my shirt, having to suck my stomach in a little just to be able to unfasten the buttons, and threw that over in the same direction. Mum had left a clean top folded next to my pillows, and I had my new sweats in one of the bags.
I picked out a few snacks like chocolate, crisps and cookies before finding the sweats at the bottom. Mostly, the biggest size they do here is a size 32, and everything else had to be imported from America. These were a 34, and I’d been very lucky to find them at all. With my body shape, I needed a large waist, and it was quite a tricky thing to find. You would think with all the bigger girls now they would realise at these shops that they could sell bigger clothes. Silly.

I liked the sound of America. I heard that everything was bigger there, and that people drove places rather than walking. I also loved cheeseburgers and macaroni cheese, and I’d heard that they had a lot of tasty, sweet food there. The American sitcoms were funnier as well. Perhaps one day I’d find a boyfriend from America.

With some difficulty, I spread the sweats on the floor, and tried to sort of lift them with my feet so I could get them over my ankles. It was hard, but I couldn’t bend over that far, and even though I’d practised putting my bottoms on this way a hundred times, it took me a few minutes. Oh, these were very comfy indeed! They had plenty of room in them for my lower belly, and a nice, soft waistband that had a bit of play in it still. I pulled the top over my head and pulled it down, the fit of it gradually tightening the lower I pulled it, to the point where it was stretched skin tight where it met my waistband.

My bed was a little higher than the couch, so it wasn’t so hard to stand up from. I went and relieved myself, slowly and carefully eased myself back downstairs, and went back into the living room.

“Ooh, they look lovely,” mum cooed, focused on my new clothes, “they look very comfy.”

I turned a little bit on the spot so she could see.

“Very nice.”

“Yeah, they’re very comfy. And they were on offer too.”

“That’s good love, your old ones were ever so tight.”

I picked up the tea and biscuits and sat down again, happy to collapse back into the couch, back to my comfy spot for a couple of hours. The TV was showing an old episode of The Simpsons. Homer did something funny and I giggled. I liked the Simpsons.

I opened the packet of biscuits and cradled my tea on my stomach. One by one, I dipped the biscuits in the tea and then ate them practically whole, just staring at the TV, feeling my body lose the slight aches and discomforts from having gone upstairs and back.

“Is Springfield a real place?” I asked Mum.

“I don’t know love.”

“What’s on next?”

“Oh, I think it’s one of those fitness programs.”

I scowled. “I don’t like those,”

“I know love, we’ll watch something else, eh?”

I dunked another biscuit and took a big, sloppy bite out of it.