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We hadn’t planned on going anywhere that Saturday morning until you mentioned your work was having a bake sale fundraiser for charity.  Since we’re both fans of baked goods I insisted we go.

We arrived a few moments before the sale started. Some of your coworkers were squabbling over who had the best cheesecake.  Then they saw you.  We both immediately hear your name being associated with ‘got fat’, ‘looking so plump’, ‘she’s gained so much lately’.  You pretend not to hear but we both know you did.  I’ll bring it up later when we’re alone, rest assured.

Then it starts. . .

“Oh, Marlene,” says Ms. Killian.  “Try this strawberry cheesecake.”

You look surprise but I guide you right to the waiting slice.  Too hesitant for my taste so I took the slice and put it in your mouth and fed it to you a little faster than you can chew.  The others must have taken the cue.

Next Ms. Wilson has a slice of cookies and crème cheesecake.  “Try mine!” She insists and has it in your mouth before you finish what you have.

 I’m not sure if you’d back away if you could. I’m holding you in place, so you can’t anyway.  Perhaps the other women wanted to also get your opinion, or perhaps they didn’t want to be left out.  Regardless, they stepped up, pre-sliced heaven in their hands.  Mrs. Callahan with mango and key lime, Mrs. McIntosh with Reece’s peanut butter cup.

You’ve downed four slices already, easily. That’s why my girl is growing so well.

Once Mrs. Tanner with her caramel apple, a big slice and quite heavy, and Mrs. Harper with her white chocolate raspberry had their go, eyes around the room started dipping to your belly and how it with half a cheesecake in you, started stretching your shirt.

Your shirt has begun riding up as well, I run my fingers across your underbelly just to be sure you’re aware.  I also tap the button on your pants just so you know how much they’re straining.

“I bet you’d like to try my pumpkin bread, wouldn’t you, Marlene?”  Asked Mrs. Flannery.  She asked but didn’t wait until you answered.  She held it in front of you and you took it like you hadn’t eaten all day.

 “Marlene!  You must come to my table!”  Called Ms. Grey.

I no longer have to guide you.  She’s looking at your belly, her boyfriend is looking at your wobbling chest.  

“Please try my truffles.”  She says and reaches for one, but her boyfriend hands you a box of four.  “Oh not all those, Henry.  She’ll get fatter.  I mean fat, not fatter, sorry, love.  She’ll get fat is what I meant to say.”

You smile as you eat them, one of the other ladies leads you to a seat and hands you a cupcake.  You take a bit out of it and stuff a truffle in your mouth with your other hand.

“What did you think of my cheesecake?”  Ms. Killian asks.  “Do you need another try?”

You smile, nodding, she brings you one but your hands are full.  You open your mouth and Ms. Killian pushes it past your lips.  She’s looking down your shirt, I can tell from my vantage point. She’s either jealous of your growth spurt or disgusted.

 “Look how fat her ass has gotten.”  Mrs. Thomasson says to her husband.  “Her bum is wider than that chair and that’s not a small chair.  Why look at her thighs, they must be as big as my waist.”

There were plenty of cookies around as well and certain women held their recipes as their pride and joy and they weren’t to be outdone by the cheesecake ladies or the bundt cake ladies.

I brush your hair out of your face so you don’t eat that too.  “Notice there are no pound cake ladies.  You’re the pound cake.”

You mumble in response.  It’s hard to talk with your mouth full of parlies and shortbread.

“You know what I’ve always admired about you, Marlene?”  Asked Mrs. Callahan.  “You’ve such a robust appetite.”  She leaned close to your ear.  “You might want to be careful though, love, it looks like it might be catching up to you. Would you like another slice of key lime?”

You nod.  Of course you nod.  Your hands are empty now but she holds the cream slice to your mouth anyway, you close your eyes and at first nibble, then inhale and it’s gone.

Well, it’s not gone.  It’s that pressure your feeling at your belly.  Pushing all that new chub out farther and farther.

 “Is there anything I can get you?”  I ask.  You look up, helpless, rosy cheeked, and panting.  I know that look of pure lust.  You have me lusting as well, looking so well fed and greedy, two-fisting muffins and pasties.

I give you a long drink of Coke to wash down the goodies you’ve had.  You’re breathing heavier now, trying to catch your breath.

Mrs. Tanner approaches again.  The caramel apple wasn’t her only flavor.  You remember Mrs. Tanner don’t you?  She’s the one you always referred to as a fatass. Have you noticed you’re looking bigger than her now?  Anyway, she insists you try her ‘famous’ chocolate swirl cheesecake.  You take it but you look at me pleading.

“I suppose I have to eat this so I don’t offend her.”

“I suppose so.”  I grin.  You’re so desperate make excuses for your gluttony.  I smile.  We both know you’re eating it because you can’t stop yourself.  The chair is creaking under your weight but that doesn’t deter you in the least.

 You must have ingested at least one entire cheesecake by now, not to mention all the other items.  Your belly has become round and swollen.  Your pants are cutting you in two.  Before we walked in your muffin top was well hidden under your shirt, it’s on display for all to see now, and now that the actual patrons are walking in, they all see it.  Some of them we recognize, and some of them recognize you.  They’re the ones with their mouths agape at how fat you’ve gotten lately.  Or maybe their mouths are agape at the crumbs and chocolate smeared on your face and hands. You’re looking a bit like a child on their first birthday.

The slacks you wore were a good choice for showing off your fat ass and thunder thighs.  They weren’t such a good choice for making a sow of yourself.  I help you to stand so you can pull yourself together in the loo and I think we both hear your straining seams pop a little.

You arch your back and try to pull your shirt down, but to no avail, you’ve simply eaten too much to cover your tummy again, and all the ladies who pushed their food into your mouth are watching and giggling at your predicament.

Inside the loo you loose a belch that echoes off the walls.  Your button is in a precarious state.  The threading wasn’t in the best condition the last time you checked and you had been meaning to shore it up.  But you never got around to it.  Now you’re hoping you can make it to the car without an incident.

You stand before one of the mirrors to clean your face, your full tummy bumping off the edge of the sink each time you get close enough to see your face clearly.  Just then shy Mrs. O’Brien enters with a fluffy cake practically dripping wonderful chocolate buttercream frosting and hands it to you.

“Please, deary I wanted you to have this.”

“Oh, Mrs. O’Brien, you really shouldn’t have. I . . .”  You can’t stop yourself from taking a huge bite.  The cake is small, about the size of a saucer and that’s the logic you used to eat it like a cupcake.  “Mmm.  It’s delicious.”  You moan through it, she watches you eat it all.  You see your reflection from the corner of your eye, the buttercream is all over your face.

“I’m so glad you like it.”

“It was wonderful.”  You say, licking frosting from your fingers.  “I can’t believe I ate it in here like a hog but . . . it was so delicious.”

“Thank you, dearie.  I’m so glad.  I remember when I was pregnant with my first child.  I couldn’t stop myself from eating either.”

You see your face pale.

She places her hand on your belly.  Your entire body tingles.

“Is the little one kicking yet?”

You see your face turn red.

At that moment your poor button gives away. Your belly surges forward, wobbling like a mound of gelatin.

“Goodness me!”  Her wide eyes blink in surprise.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

“Well, hello, Ashley,” said Paige, one of her clique’s hottest beauty queens and one of Ashley’s pre-covid friends.  She entered the elevator with the rest of their clique—it used to be their clique.  Now it was a clique without her since lockdown.

“Um, hi.”  Ashley replied, heart pounding, not daring to make eye contact.

“Haven’t seen you in a while.  Not since quarantine.”

Ashely swallowed hard.  “Um,” she chuckled, her nerves make it an awkward sound, “yeah. It’s been a . . . while.”

“Yeah, it has.  You look a little different from what I remember.  Change your hair?”

Ashley gulped, not only mortified but suddenly feeling short and stout like a teacup sitting squat among the tall, beautiful champagne flutes.  

Paige looked her over like she was judging a prize pig, smirking in sick satisfaction.  

“Um, yeah my hair is different . . . long now.” Ashley lacked the strength to meet Paige’s eyes.  In her weakness, her gaze went lower, lower, until they were on her shoelaces.

“Quite a bit different.  Wouldn’t you say, girls?”  They agreed.  Ashley’s shoulders sank.  “What else is different though?  Is it just your hair?”

“Oh,” Ashley chuckled, swallowed, “I . . . well,” her nerves caught her breath in her throat.  She gulped, fought the urge to use her hands to fan her hot face, “you know, um,” she tittered, “the quarantine, um, the you know, lock . . . lockdown and all . . . some um . . . some people . . . got . . . uh—bought new clothes!”

“Yeah, sure.  You got new clothes?”

“Yes.”

“That’s wonderful.”

Ashley shrank under the scrutiny of Paige’s stare.

“Why do you think some people needed new wardrobes?”

“Um . . . because . . .”  Ashley knew where this led but couldn’t stop her stupid mouth. “Uh . . . because some people . . . got . . .”

“Fat?”

Ashely sighed in defeat

“Yeah, some people got fat.  Didn’t they, Ashley?”

Ashley’s breath got stuck in her throat.  She couldn’t force herself to breathe, her eyes were wide in shock and she could do nothing to change that.

“Didn’t they, Ashley?  Why they just let those covid pounds add up and up and up. Didn’t they?”

Ashley nodded sadly.

“You know now that I look at you, it’s not just your hair, or your new clothing that’s different.  Is it, Ashley?”

Ashley closed her eyes, clasped her fingers tightly together hovering over her bellybutton as though somehow that action might hide months of carelessness, months of working in her sweats, months of sitting on her ass and not moving more than going to the refrigerator or to answer the door for food delivery.

“You know, Ashley, you look a little plump.”

Ashley winced, she fumbled her cold clammy fingers, twisting them until they turned white.  “I . . . I . . . I . . .”

“Let me guess.  You thought a little indulging was harmless?  That it would never affect anything?  But it did.  Didn’t it?”

The elevator swirled, the lights seemed to dim.

“You told yourself it wasn’t a problem, that you’d get back on track easily.  Didn’t you?”

Ashley clamped her eyelids together, biting her lip.

“It wasn’t as easy as you thought it would be, was it?  But you convinced yourself you had plenty of time to diet away all the evidence of your indulgences, right?  Time sure flies when you’re having fun.”

Ashley tried to laugh it off.  What came out of her gullet started as laugh but ended in something like a choke as her dread made her swallow it back down.  She cleared her throat, looked at the floor.

“Then you couldn’t stop it.  The weeks flew by as you realized you lost control.  You knew time was running out.  You got scared.  You tried desperately to lose weight in a hurry but it all failed quickly when you realized you didn’t have the discipline anymore.  You knew you were too far gone.  Then the call came.”

For someone who couldn’t breathe a moment ago, Ashley sure felt out of breath.  

Paige got so close she felt lost in her looming shadow.  She whispered in her ear, “Do you remember when I gained the freshman 15 in college?”

Ashley nodded.

“It wasn’t even 15.  It was only six.  But you wouldn’t let me live down, would you?  I lost it all before the end of the semester, but you wouldn’t let it go. Did you?”

Ashley shook her head, felt the heat radiate from her face.

Paige stood straight, her shadow disappeared, and before then hadn’t realized how much taller and more beautiful Paige was than her.

“This is a nice blouse by the way.”  Paige reached out to touch the fabric.  Ashley felt her strong fingers graze across her chub, she gasped, but Paige didn’t take her hand away.  Her fingers, though it was slight, sunk into the softness of her love handle.  She whimpered.  “Oh, I’m sorry.  That’s you. Well, I thought it was your blouse that was flaring out but I guess it’s your tummy under there bulging, isn’t it?”

Ashely trembled.

“My goodness.”  Paige was seemingly trying to adjust Ashley’s blouse but she was really feeling her side rolls.  “What has happened here?”

Ashley’s mouth was dry, her breath was shallow and uncooperative.  “You . . . you know, um . . . what happened?  Um, well, the g-gyms—”

“Oh, right.  The gyms were closed.”  Paige nodded.

“Right!”

“They were.”  Paige agreed.  “Yet . . . all of us managed to stay in perfect shape.  And you didn’t.  Did you, Ashley?”

Did she have to keep saying her name?  It only made her feel smaller, dumber, and fatter. But Ashley shook her head.  That was the truth.  She made no effort at all.

Paige sucked her teeth.  “Weird that you’d get so chunky and out of shape when you were so judgmental about everybody else before.  Weren’t you, Ashley?”

“I was very judgmental.”

“You used to say how fat people were always so full of excuses, right?  But now you’re the one who’s gotten fat, aren’t you?”

Ashley’s breath caught in her throat until she swallowed a few times.  “I did. Yes.”

“And now you’re the one full of excuses, aren’t you, Ashley?”

Ashley nodded.

Paige leaned close to her and smooshed her in a sorority hug.

Paige was so strong and compared to Ashley’s bloated soft jello body.  She predictably whimpered at the contrast, the strong grip on her fat, the way her chub molded around her, gave way to her former friend’s strength next to her pliable weakness.

Paige stayed close long enough for one last whisper. “You have powdered sugar on your cheeks.”

The elevator stopped on the clique’s floor. Paige broke the embrace.  She finally met her eyes to see her tall fit friend look her over and smiling.  She waved as she turned to leave.