The Fat Girl by Marilyn Sachs Page A

I’m really interested in what happens to her, and she can trust me, maybe I can help her.”
    “It should be some evening,” Norma said, smiling. “I’ll be interested in hearing all about it.”
    And that’s when it really started—the end, I mean. Because I felt myself growing angry. But at what? At the way she was smiling? At the way she assumed I was going to tell her everything that passed between Ellen and myself?
    “And another thing, Norma,” I said, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice. “You don’t have to lay it on so thick with her. I mean, it’s great that you’re trying to be friendly, and I know you told Roger and Dolores to be nice too, but you don’t have to bury her in it.”
    She didn’t notice my irritation. She was a person who could always take criticism without snapping back. She just nodded and said, “You’re right, Jeff. I guess I was too obvious.” And then she kissed me and I kissed her, and the beginning of the end got lost for a while.
    My mother worked the seven thirty to three thirty shift at her job, so the two of us got home around the same time. She was unloading some packages from the car, and I helped her carry them up the stairs. The phone was ringing as we entered the apartment. It was my father.
    “Hello, Jeff.”
    “Oh, hi, Dad.” I was using the phone in the kitchen, and I watched as my mother set down her package and walked out of the room.
    “I’m glad I got you, Jeff. I meant to call you last night, but David fell down the stairs and needed a few stitches in his leg, so . . .”
    “How is he now?”
    “He’s fine. He’s fine, but that’s why I didn’t call you.”
    “I’m glad he’s okay.”
    “Well, the thing is, I wanted to tell you that Sean’s having a birthday party this afternoon, just with some of the kids in the neighborhood. But tonight we’re all going out to dinner, and I’d like you to come too. I would have called you last night . . .” His voice sounded awkward. Wanda must have told him.
    “That’s okay, Dad. I can’t come anyway.”
    “You know, Jeff, you’re always invited to any family party here. I wouldn’t want you to feel . . .”
    “It’s okay. I’m going out with a friend tonight for pizza.”
    “With Norma? Well, look, why don’t the two of you come along with us? I haven’t met Norma yet, but I’d like to. Wanda told us all about her, and you can bring her too.”
    “No, it’s not Norma, and I don’t think I can. It’s somebody else who’s got some problems, and we need to talk.”
    “Well, I’m sorry, Jeff. I really meant to call you yesterday. I don’t want you to feel left out. You know you’re my number-one son.” He was trying to be funny, and it embarrassed both of us.
    “I know, Dad. It’s okay. I don’t feel left out.”
    “How about coming over another day this week? We never see you. Why don’t you bring Norma over for dinner one night?”
    “Well . . .”
    “Come on, Jeff.”
    “Okay, Dad.”
    “When?”
    “Well, how about Friday? If she can make it.”
    “Or Saturday or Sunday. Any night’s fine, and Linda and the kids will be so happy. Just let me know.”
    “Okay, Dad, and wish Sean a happy birthday from me. And give my best to Linda.”
    “I will, Jeff. Thanks. And you know, I really would have called you last night.”
    “I know, Dad.”
    I was exhausted when I hung up the phone. My mother returned to the kitchen as soon as I stopped talking, and began unpacking the groceries.
    “Mom,” I asked, “can I have the car tonight?”
    “Of course,” she said stiffly. I knew she was thinking I needed the car to go to Dad’s house.
    “I’m not going to Dad’s house,” I told her, “because I have a date with somebody in my ceramics class. Not exactly a date, but I’m taking somebody out for pizza, and I’d like the car.”
    She piled a few tuna fish cans in the closet but didn’t say anything. I knew she thought I was lying to her, like Wanda, so I