Chapter 1 - The Party Line
Written for the July '24 Theme for the Month promo, and the theme is: "Write about someone eavesdropping"======
“So, Janice, tell me how Dawn’s first semester at college is going.”
My ears perked up. After town politics and the drama at the Garden Club, this might almost make eavesdropping worthwhile. I covered the receiver with my hand and slid down further into the overstuffed sofa.
“Oh, it’s fine, I suppose.” From the tone of her voice, it didn’t sound fine. She didn’t sound angry, just disappointed. “She doesn’t seem to love her classes, or just take to anything. I told her she should have waited a year and gone abroad, gotten some life experiences under her belt first, but she’s a stubborn one.”
“My niece? Stubborn? Heaven forbid!” I heard a rattling sound over the phone, like ice cubes in a glass sliding towards the speaker’s mouth. “I think she takes after her mother there.”
“Well, you had her pegged as being just like me back when she was little. And now here we are. I just want her to be successful. It’s not even that, I just want her to have a sense of accomplishment, and if she’s putting in half-effort in all of her classes, how is she ever going to find that?”
“Janice, things have a way of working out. Talk to Dawn. I’m sure she has an academic advisor. Maybe she just chose the wrong major.”
“Oh, good idea, Anne! Next semester, do you think she can major in Boys and Bacardi?”
I snorted and then held my breath. The line was silent. I bit my lip so hard I swear there was going to be blood. I could almost taste it.
The silence was terrible, claustrophobic, but finally Janice spoke up. “Anyways. I’ll talk to her when she’s home for Christmas break. If she doesn’t change anything, she has to do something about her diet.”
“What do you mean, she’s not keeping fit?”
Janice chuckled. “Far from it, I couldn’t tell the difference between her and the stuffed turkey at Thanksgiving!”
“Well, Janice, honestly…this might be another ‘like mother, like daughter’ situation. And before you get upset, I’m family, I can say these things!”
“Oh, that’s different, Anne!” Something about the way she said it didn’t make me think she believed it.
“I see.” Anne sounded like she was going to drop it for a second, then asked, “How much do you weigh now, Janice?”
“Anne…” I was breathing shallowly. Were you supposed to ask what other people weigh?
“I’ve put on a little weight this Fall, but I’m under one thirty. You were always around one twenty-five. How much are you now?”
“Anne, that’s ridiculous.”
“Well, I think it’s a little ridiculous for you to be upset with Dawn for putting on a little weight when you have, too. And I dare say more than she has. How heavy are you, Janice?”
A car drove by the house. I could see the headlights out the windows and hear it in the earpiece. It was an odd sensation.
“Janice?”
“Around two hundred.” She wasn’t proud of it, but her voice didn’t quiver.
“Oh God, Janice. I haven’t seen you in too long, then. Are you ok? Is it medication?”
“I’m fine.” Again, her voice was flat, almost dreamy.
“Is it your thyroid? I have an endocrinologist you can see—”
“No, no. It’s not that.”
There was another pause, and I strained to hear what could be going on behind the receivers in those bedrooms.
“What does Bruce think? Is he upset with you?”
“Mhm?” Janice said, as if she was coming out of a trance. “Bruce…loves it. He loves it.”
I knew I should slide off the couch, tiptoe over to the phone base with the long, spiral cord in one hand, put it on the receiver as softly as I could, and then run outside or to the basement or anywhere. This conversation was never for me, but it had changed the channel to something I knew I shouldn’t be listening to. But I couldn’t stop.
“At first it was just off the cuff compliments. ‘You look good’, ‘that outfit looks nice’, which didn’t make sense to me because I felt terrible about how I looked. Not terrible, but I knew I was letting myself go, and it wasn’t what I wanted.
“But the compliments kept coming, and I hadn’t lost weight, in fact I had gained more, and…Anne, our sex life started…I shouldn’t say it—”
“It’s only me, Janice. You tell me everything. I tell you everything.”
“I told you that after our kids were born, he was an animal, right?”
“I remember you saying that. It made you uncomfortable,” Anne said.
“Sex was the last thing on my mind. The last. I always thought it was just forbidden fruit with him. He wanted me because I was tired and hormonal and turning him down so often.”
Anne gasped. She got it. “He liked your baby body! Bruce!”
I could almost picture the nods, the way they would bunch up her double chin, make her chest shake. “I always diet for the New Year, but this year I just didn’t. I just didn’t, Anne. I was so busy.”
“You don’t have to apologize for that, Janice!”
“No, but when I didn’t start those good habits, I kept the bad habits. And,” her voice dropped, “once Bruce and I talked about it, and he told me that he liked it…he made it easy for me to like it too.”
My heart was beating so loud I was sure they could hear me through the receiver.
Anne spoke slowly, like maybe she should have kept her mouth shut earlier, not pressed so hard. “That’s a little kinky, Janice. Two hundred pounds…”
“I know. The gals at the Garden Club have even stopped trying to give me recipes or take me to Weight Watchers with them. They’ve all just accepted it. Which is…interesting.”
Anne’s tone had gone cheeky. “I’m sure the sex isn’t bad…” I bit my lip again.
If a blush could be transmitted over a telephone wire, in those few seconds Janice paused, the world blushed. I blushed for her, crossing my ankles.
“The sex is…wonderful. Like we’re twenty-five again. I’m still gaining weight, Anne. We talked about three hundred—”
The phone slipped out of my hands, falling into my lap. I chased it across the sofa as the coiled cord dragged it towards the receiver, grabbing it just before it fell on the floor. I heard someone say “Hello? Hello?” softly from the phone, but it was too late, I had to abort. In one motion, I put my finger on the switchhook, placed the phone back on the cradle, and bolted off the sofa. Chest heaving, I raced to find a suitable alibi.
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