Chapter 5 - breakfast for cheryl

It was early the next morning when Mum awakened me, not on purpose, but with the smell of her baking. I could tell she was making a couple of things. The cinnamon rolls were obvious, and what was the other? Shortbread. I grinned and my stomach grumbled viciously. I’m not sure why, but lately I’d been waking up terribly hungry. I saw Cheryl sleeping beside me, and remembered what had happened last night. I remembered all the food we’d gone through in our bedtime snack, and I looked around to start cleaning it up, but it was gone. Mum must’ve taken care of it for us. She’s so thoughtful.

My empty, aching stomach compelled me to get up and follow the comforting smell of cinnamon and shortbread into the kitchen.

“Good morning, love,” she murmured. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did, thanks,” I reply. I spied the big mixing bowl full of cream cheese frosting for the buns, and I grabbed a big spoonful. Oh god, Mum’s icing is always so rich and wonderful. She didn’t say anything about the icing. She generally makes extra so that I can have a few spoonfuls while they’re baking. She’s so thoughtful, so unlike Cheryl’s mum.

I told her what happened to Cheryl as I spooned the rich, creamy icing into my mouth. Mum furrowed her brow as I told her the awful things that Cheryl’s mum said, and when I finished I didn’t even have to ask the question of whether she could stay.

“Well, of course Cheryl will stay here with us, as long as she wants to. She’s a good girl, and she’s like family, and she doesn’t need to live anywhere where she’s treated like that.”

I licked my spoonful of icing and nodded gratefully. “I hoped you’d say that, Mum.”

I went back to the couch and laid down again to sleep for a bit longer. The icing had taken the edge off my hunger, but I wasn’t used to waking up before the sun came up.

Cheryl woke me up after about an hour’s nap, standing over me wearing a broad grin. “Melanie, Joy said I can stay here with you as long as I want!”

“I know,” I yawned and stretched, exposing a roll of soft belly fat.

I could smell different food smells now. Bacon, sausage... yes, of course. Mum would celebrate and make sure Cheryl felt welcome with a big feast; that’s just like her.

We put some nice music on the radio and Mum served us in the dining room, which we didn’t use much except for special occasions. There was a certain glint in Mum’s eye when she brought the teapot and a trio of mugs through. I certainly got the impression that she was going to look forward to showing Cheryl how things were done in our household. Knowing Mum, she’d have taken it as a point of pride to do so. Nothing seemed to please her as much as looking after someone, and having Cheryl around? Well, that was just about perfect.

We exchanged a knowing smile. Cheryl getting kicked out had been something we’d wondered about on and off over the last couple of years, which were the ones when Cheryl had really started putting on weight. She’d always been big, like me, but it wasn’t until she got to about 18 that it really became obvious that her mother had completely lost the ability to influence her the way she used to. I was glad. She was still a bit fragile now, but I could see Cheryl being happy here.

“Is a fry up alright by you, Cheryl?” My Mum asked.

“Oh yeah, please Joy, if that’s alright?”

Mum laughed gently and squeezed her shoulder, “don’t be silly, of course it is! I’ve made more than enough for you both.”

I poured the tea for the three of us as Mum wandered back into the kitchen.

“I’m so hungry,” Cheryl murmured, taking a sip, “I guess with all the upset..”

“Don’t worry,” I replied, smiling reassuringly.

Mum came in with the first tray, loaded with bacon, sausages and a few bits of black pudding. There must have been about oh, three or four packs of bacon there? There were about two dozen sausages, all gently cooling in the remains of the frying pan grease that had made a little puddle at the bottom of the tray.

“Wow..” Cheryl murmured, staring at the bacon, eyes glinting.

“Dig in,” I replied, taking the serving tongs and grabbing a half dozen slices. Cheryl pierced two sausages with her fork and stuck them on her plate.

“Go on,” I giggled a little, “no need to be on ceremony, I’ve seen you eat more than that!”

Cheryl smiled and forked another three, and took another half a pack of bacon.

As mum brought in another tray, this time laden with hash browns and some potato waffles, I grabbed the loaf of bread off the table along with the butter, hoping to make a nice bacon and sausage sandwich. I slapped the butter on half an inch thick, stuffed five slices of bacon in it, a couple of sausages, and a big dollop of brown sauce. I moaned inadvertently with the first bite. It was so good! I barely swallowed before taking another, looking forward to easing the hunger that had been forming in my stomach while we’d been waiting. I spread my legs a little further and allowed my belly to sag between my thighs. It was simply more comfortable that way.

Cheryl passed on the idea of a bacon sandwich, but was busy filling her plate with the potato waffles and hash browns. I liked to eat as I went along, Cheryl liked to fill her plate first. As I finished my sandwich I watched her stuff a couple of hash browns in her mouth.

“I’ll have some of those,” I murmured, skewering a selection of potato products and dumping them on the plate. I pierced a potato waffle, deep fried to perfection, and took a big greedy bite out of it.

The bowls and trays continued to mount as we ate. Baked beans were next, followed by a small portion of fried mushrooms and tomatoes (mum was the only one who liked those), a dozen slices of fried bread, cooked in the fat from the bacon and sausages. We ate in near silence. Mum gave herself a couple of slices of bacon and a couple of hash browns. I spooned baked beans all over my dozen or so hash browns, drowning them in the tomato sauce. Cheryl sipped tea and had a big helping of everything. I made an enormous bacon, sausage and potato waffle sandwich, feeling melted butter dribble down my double chin as I took a bite out of it.

In an hour it was all practically demolished. I leaned back against the chair, letting out a short quiet burp. Cheryl stared at me across the table, eyes glazed over, her left hand gently rubbing small circles around her stomach, no doubt trying to ease the pressure. She was puffing for breath, ever so slightly. She was smiling.

“That was delicious,” I said to Mum.

“Thanks love,” she replied, taking a drag on her morning post breakfast cigarette, putting down her cup of tea, “there’s a tray of shortbread in the kitchen, would you like it love?”

I nodded softly, despite being more or less completely full. I looked over and Cheryl’s eyes were nearly popping out of her head at the thought of more food.

“Maybe a little bit...” she murmured as Joy stood up, taking our plates.

Another thirty minutes, half a pan of shortbread and copious amounts of tea later, I’d conceded defeat. I slouched back, panting, my stomach swollen to the point where I could feel little pangs of discomfort. My top had rode up a good couple of inches just from the food alone.

“I think I’ve really overdone it this time,” Cheryl whimpered, cradling her swollen belly in her hands. “But I didn’t want to hurt your mum’s feelings, and...”

“And everything she makes is just so delicious, I know,” I agreed.

Mum had left us quite a while ago to take her shower and get dressed. We sat at the table in silence.

“I could use a joint,” Cheryl murmured, “but...”

She looked longingly at her smoking gear on the coffee table. Anything further than arms reach might as well have been on the moon.

“What..” she stifled a burp, “what do you wanna do today Mel?”

“You’re looking at it,” I joked. I didn’t have much else planned, to be honest, “maybe we could go to town for Mum and pick up some shopping, if you feel up to it?”

Her eyes widened, “oh, I couldn’t possibly, right now.”

“And tonight we could get stoned and watch some movies?”

“Sounds good,” Cheryl grinned, then looked worried, “you.. don’t wanna go to town now though, right?”

I laughed. “Goodness no. Let’s let breakfast settle, get you a smoke, watch some TV, and maybe we’ll go in a few hours.”

A look of relief crossed Cheryl’s face.

It was twenty minutes before I felt like I could stand up, slowly and carefully pushing myself up from the table.

We left the dishes for later, and got up and waddled slowly back to the couch in the living room. I took a quick detour to the kitchen and brought a few of Mum’s fresh baked cinnamon rolls just in case. Cheryl let out a loud burp as she plunked herself heavily on the couch holding her smoking equipment. I giggled, passed her the remote control and stretched back to watch whatever she liked.

I was looking forward to having her living with us.