The Stepmother by Carrie Adams Page B

my knickers and pulled a grotesque smile from above each buried hip. I flicked it. Then I blew out my stomach even more, hunched over, and flicked it again. “Blubber” was the word that came to mind. How could I have lived with myself, yet avoided myself for so long?
    I faced myself again and saw the panic of a drowning person staring wide-eyed back at me. My heart was pounding. I couldn’t breathe. Theair had left me. Oxygen had deserted me. All I needed to do was inhale. I stared at myself. Inhale, you stupid fat cow! But I could no more fly. My heart screamed. My chest knotted like a gnarled tree, solid. Breathe! I yelled at myself. Please! No. I was going to die. Good. I was dying. My reflection shook its head at me, mouthing, “I can’t breathe.” BREATHE ! Pathetic. I yelled at myself from deep inside. BREATHE ! Why? “I can’t.” My face crumbled, my grotesque body folded, I stretched my jaw wider than it wanted to go and felt the skin tear at the side of my mouth. I screamed, as tears poured down my cheeks, I screamed and screamed and screamed. But not a sound came out.
    â€œMummy!” It was Maddy.
    I straightened up. I could hear soft footsteps on the carpet and the rustle of her uniform. No, no, no, no, no…
    â€œWhich one are you in? Are you ready?”
    As if someone had punctured a hole through my solar plexus, air refilled me. I held on to it. Terrified it might leave me again.
    â€œMummy?”
    â€œComing,” I croaked, furiously rubbing away the tears, the fear. “In a minute,” I said.
    â€œOkay.”
    I staggered back and, in my graying bra, pants, and socks, slid down the mirrored wall and wrapped a bit of curtain around me. I put my head on my knees. I couldn’t stop the tears. They kept slipping out of me. What was happening? The panic had only lessened its grip on me. Sporadically, it would give me a squeeze, just to let me know I wasn’t alone. I couldn’t get up. I gathered up the clothes and held on to them, as if they were one of Maddy’s blankets. Soothed by the feel of satin lining on my cheek.
    â€œLet’s see you, then.”
    It was Mother. As soon as I heard her voice, I slammed my leg across the entrance to the changing room and clasped the curtain to the wall. I wasn’t ready to let anyone in and I wasn’t ready to leave. My mother must have sensed something, because she stopped just outside the curtain.
    â€œFound anything you like?” she asked tentatively.
    â€œMother, could you do me a favor…”
    â€œAre you all right, darling?”
    Just keep breathing, I told myself, feeling my chin wobble. Just keep breathing. “I…need a few minutes.”
    â€œWell, okay, we’ll be outside.”
    â€œNo,” I said, more emphatically than I meant to. “Could you take them to get something to eat? I think there’s, um, a diner, isn’t there? A café?”
    â€œI’ll take them to the restaurant upstairs next to where I get my hair done.”
    I closed my eyes. “Thank you.”
    â€œHow long will you be?”
    I don’t know. I could feel my breath shortening again.
    â€œBelinda?”
    I felt my face scrunch up as I fought tears.
    â€œPlease let me buy you something nice.”
    From some deep memory of childbirth, I found a spot on the curtain rail to focus on and blew out long exhalations of air. I watched the curtain move. “God, Mum, just give me a moment.”
    â€œHonestly, Belinda, that’s no way to speak to me. I’ve just spent a fortune on your children. And don’t call me Mum!”
    I curled up into a tighter ball and let the tears fall. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Who the fuck was the fat woman huddled on the floor, unable to stop crying? How had this happened? Where had I gone? Who had I become? Once upon a time, a long time ago in a land far, far away, I had been a catch…
    I was