He Loves Lucy

Chapter 10

September

By eight that evening, Mary Fran was once again crying in the bedroom, having made Lucy swear she would not leave the apartment for any reason, not for a second.

Yes, this was a fitting end to one shitty day, and as Lucy rummaged through her pitifully stocked kitchen cabinets, she wanted to crawl in behind the brown rice and garbanzo beans and hide.

This day alone, she’d turned down fourteen requests for print or broadcast interviews, including two from major national magazines. Her weight gain was the subject of newspaper columns, radio call-ins, conversations at bus stops. She knew it would be just hours or minutes before some halfway-bright reporter somewhere put two and two together and figured out she was the Lucy Cunningham of Pitt State Slump Buster fame.

Plus, her boss had gone missing. Not that this was a tragedy, but it was inconvenient, because Friday was payday.

And she hadn’t had anything to eat since her breakfast of yogurt and a banana.

All these things conspired to make Lucy cranky and fidgety, and she moved to the refrigerator, where she stood in front of the open door, tapping her foot.

She gave up. There was only one thing she truly wanted, one thing that could save her. It was hot and filling, and in all the time she’d been in Miami, it had never failed to relax her, soothe her.

She would call Luigi. A twelve incher would be just right tonight.

But as Lucy picked up the phone she had to laugh at herself-she couldn’t remember the number for Luigi’s Pizza! It had once been No. 1 on her speed dial, but she’d deleted the number last November, and at the time it felt like getting closure on a soured relationship. And now, nine months later, she was crawling back to him and even had to stoop so low as to look up his number in the book.

Her fingers trembled but managed to hit all the right buttons on the keypad. Luigi answered. Lucy froze.

“Hello? Anybody there?”

Lucy eventually spit out her order-a large stuffed crust sausage with extra cheese-and it sounded like the lyrics to a bittersweet love song from her past.

“Lucy? Is that you?”

Good God! She couldn’t even order a pizza with impunity. “Hey, Luigi, how have you been?”

“Great, great, but you shouldn’t be eating pizza no more, Lucy, especially with the weight gain. I hate to turn down a sale, but you’re lookin‘ too good to eat my pie.”

Though Lucy stood at her kitchen counter, she knew she was really standing at a crossroads. She could agree with Luigi, open a can of garbanzo beans, and feel good about herself, or she could lie.

“It’s for my sister,” she said.

“She likes the sausage and extra cheese just like you, eh?” Luigi didn’t even try to hide his amusement.

“Yes, she does.”

“You need anything to drink with that?”

“Do you still carry ice cream?”

It was Luigi’s turn for silence. After a couple of seconds he asked, “Your sister like butter brickle same as you?”

“Yes. As a matter of fact, she can’t get enough of the stuff.”

“It comes to eighteen ninety-five. Twenty minutes. And you’re breakin‘ my heart, Lucy.” He hung up.

It was done.

Lucy poked her head into the bedroom to check on Mary Fran, who was now sleeping, thank God. The twins and Holden were with Mom and Dad for the night. This time, it seemed Mary Fran had finally followed through on her threat to leave Keith for good. She and Lucy had talked most of the evening, and as far as Lucy could see, the problem with Fran and Keith was a continuing failure to communicate.

Mary Fran said they’d tried counseling, but after Keith missed one appointment because of a last-minute business trip, they never got back on track. Mary Fran said she’d hired a nanny for two half days a week to give her some alone time but found it only made her lonelier. So two days ago, when Keith called to say he’d be another week in Houston, she hit the wall. Mary Fran left him. And she ran to Miami, the city where she’d come so many times to sleep or dance away her heartache.

Lucy left the bedroom and shook her head, realizing this was a far cry from the wild single-girl lifestyle Mary Fran had once pined for. She flopped down on the couch and surfed aimlessly through the channels, allowing her mind to rehash all the latest weirdness in her life.

Stephan had been missing for four days now-just gone. Though he sometimes left town for weeks on end, he always gave them a heads-up. But this time, nothing. No one could track him down, and Lucy had the misfortune of pulling the short straw to call his ex-wife. Upon hearing Stephan was nowhere to be found, she’d laughed. Everyone at the office agreed that if he didn’t show up tomorrow, they’d have to bring in the authorities.

Also that day, Tyson called to inform her that Lola DiPaolo had been canned. Apparently, Ramona had warned Lola to keep her mouth shut after she made those mean-spirited comments to the Herald, but just that morning she’d phoned into a morning radio show to repeat the same drivel-that Lucy was no longer even trying. Ramona canned Lola the minute she showed up for work. Good riddance to her.

Lucy clicked away at the remote control, eventually stumbling onto an Andy Griffith Show marathon. The pizza came, and she whispered her thanks to the delivery boy so Mary Fran wouldn’t hear. Lucy put away the ice cream and returned to the couch, the box balanced on her knees. She studied the red, green, and white map of Italy and the cute little illustration of the pizza guy holding out a steaming pie pan. She opened the lid and feasted her eyes on the sight-twelve inches of crisp white heaven topped with spicy sausage and a homemade tomato sauce, smothered in a velvet veil of melted mozzarella. It had been far too long.

Lucy managed to eat the entire pizza while watching Sheriff Andy Taylor orchestrate the budding romance between Goober and Flora, the new diner waitress. During the episode where Opie befriends a hobo, Lucy ate the pint of butter brickie. And while Opie searched for his lost baseball in the haunted Rimshaw house, Lucy lay on her side moaning.

“Lucy? Are you out there?” Mary Fran’s voice sounded stuffy, like she’d been crying again.

Lucy managed to get up off the couch and fought back dizziness as she raced to the bedroom door, noting the empty pizza box on the counter as she went. She’d have to find a way to get rid of that.

“I’m here, Frannie. You want a cup of tea?”

“No. Nothing. I just wanted to make sure you’re still here. Please don’t leave the apartment.”

“No problem.”

“Do I smell pizza?”

It seemed more untruths would be required, and Lucy had to wonder if pizza was worth repeatedly lying to family members and small businessmen. “I nuked a Weight Watchers pasta bowl. Want one?” She winced when she heard herself say it.

“No thanks. I’m going back to sleep.”

Lucy turned to shut the door, but Mary Fran’s soft voice stopped her. “Wait, Luce.”

“Sure.” Lucy leaned against the doorjamb and cradled her stomach.

“Thank you for everything.”

“No problem.”

“Can I talk to you for a minute? I… I want to apologize for something.”

Lucy straightened up. “For what?” She moved to turn on the lamp, but Mary Fran asked her not to. ‘This will be easier for me to talk about in the dark,“ she whispered.

“All right.” Lucy waited. In the indirect light from the kitchen, she watched Frannie push herself up to sit cross-legged on the bed.

“First, I want to apologize for not being a very good sister to you lately, or ever, really. I’ve been so focused on my own problems that I haven’t been there for you when you needed me.” Mary Fran studied her hands, her voice choked with sadness. “I know things aren’t great with you and Theo, and I haven’t helped you at all. I’m just making things worse by showing up here and crying. I am sorry.”

Lucy was dumbstruck. In all her life, Mary Fran had never been this frank. Lucy cleared her throat. “It’s all right.”

“No, wait-it gets worse.” Mary Fran blew her nose in a tissue and hung her head. “I need to admit something awful to you. It’s really been weighing on my mind lately and I need to just tell you.”

“OK.” This sounded ominous.

“I’ve always been jealous of you, Lucy. There’s this mean and nasty part of me that was always glad you were heavy, because being thin was the one thing I had mat you didn’t. I am ashamed to tell you this.”

“Whoa.” Lucy’s knees gave out and she landed on the edge of the bed.

Fran looked up at her, and Lucy could see more tears welling in her eyes. “I think I’ve been feeling a little threatened by your weight loss success. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m sure you hate me now.”

Lucy sighed. It seemed they were doing some house-cleaning tonight, so she’d better do her share. “I’ve always been jealous of you, too.”

Mary Fran frowned. “Because I was thin?”

“Well, yeah. Thin and pretty and popular. Everyone always compared me to you. ‘The Cunningham girls- the pretty one and the fat one.’”

Mary Fran laughed. “I always thought it was ‘the Cunningham girls-the brilliant one and the ditzy one.’”

They laughed, and Mary Fran reached out for Lucy and they threw their arms around each other. Lucy held Mary Fran’s little body tight to her as they rocked back and forth. Eventually Lucy pulled back and stroked her sister’s short hair. “We’re both ditzes, Frannie.”

“You don’t hate me?” The sincerity in her sister’s expression touched her.

“How could I hate you? Do you hate me?”

“God, no.” Mary Fran fell forward on the bed and stretched out. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if I didn’t have you to come to these past months.” She turned to look at Lucy. “It’s really scary, discovering I may have made a mistake when I married Keith. I’ve got so many decisions ahead of me.” She smiled sadly. “But I’m going to figure out my life. I promise.”

“I know you will. You’re strong. And I’ll always be right here for you.”

“You’re strong, too, Lucy.” Mary Fran rubbed her eyes and rested her cheek on the pillow. “And I’m so proud of you. So proud of everything-”

In seconds, her breathing was deep and slow and Lucy leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’m going to figure out my life, too,” she whispered.

Lucy closed the bedroom door behind her, and her eyes immediately went to the pizza box on the counter-top. It dawned on her that if she and Frannie had gotten around to that conversation an hour earlier, the pizza wouldn’t have been so appealing. As usual, expressing her feelings felt more satisfying than stuffing them down with food.

With a sigh, Lucy pulled out the plastic kitchen garbage pail and shoved the pizza box and ice-cream carton inside. But wait. What if Mary Fran opened the lid to the trash can? She’d be found out. And going to the garbage chute was out of the question, since she’d promised Mary Fran she’d stay in the apartment. So how would she get rid of the evidence?

Lucy picked up the garbage bag, the colors of Italy plainly visible under the thin plastic. She got a pair of scissors from the drawer. She cut the box in half, then fourths, then eighths, and kept going until she had a nice stack of little tomato-stained cardboard squares. She shoved them inside the ice-cream carton, replaced its lid, and shoved the pint back in the trash bag. Then she returned to the couch.

A few minutes later, Lucy realized that wouldn’t work, either. What if Mary Fran saw the ice-cream container? Was ice cream any less damning than pizza? What if the lid fell off the ice-cream container and Mary Fran saw all those little cardboard cutouts? She’d think Lucy was off her nut!

Lucy ran back into the kitchen, where she stood in the center of the room and plotted how to remove all evidence of her binge. Surely this was how ax murderers felt in the aftermath of their crime. Her gaze drifted to the sink, and inspiration hit her.

By the end of the episode where Barney Fife gets his first new car, the sink of hot tap water had done its job. One quick stir with a wooden spoon and Lucy was satisfied the cardboard had disintegrated into an unidentifiable blob of gray pulp. She had begun to scoop the amalgam into a fresh trash bag when the doorbell rang.

“Where is she?” Keith stood in the harsh hallway light, his tie askew and his hair wild. “Mom said she’s here.”

Lucy crossed her arms over her chest and blocked the door. “She’s sleeping.”

“I have to see her.”

Lucy was suddenly afraid something bad had happened. “Is everything all right? The kids-”

Keith barged right past her. “The kids are fine. But I’m not. I get out of a meeting this afternoon and I get a voice mail that my wife is leaving me. I get dumped via voice mail.”

Keith spun around, obviously looking for the door to Lucy’s bedroom. “Where is she?”

Lucy pointed, watching her handsome Brooks Brothers brother-in-law jog through her tiny kitchen. He suddenly stopped, staring at the mess in the sink, dripping down the cabinets into the trash bag.

“What the hell is that?”

Lucy grimaced, forcing her mind to spring from its pizza-induced stupor. “Uh. Papier-mache?”

Keith looked her up and down. “You look great, Luce. Whatever it takes.”

Lucy spent the next few moments desperately trying not to eavesdrop on the conversation taking place in her bedroom. She turned up the volume on the episode where Aunt Bea makes the metric ton of pickles, its plot line meshing with Fran and Keith discussing work, sex, economizing, family dinners, Holden and the twins, and whether they should downsize and sell the manse in Buckhead so that Keith could get a less demanding job.

Lucy even heard Fran say something about going back to work part-time.

Moments later, Fran and Keith exited from the bedroom holding hands. Keith looked in shock but calmer, and Frannie looked happier than Lucy had seen her in months. Her smile was so wide it pushed up the pink apple of her cheeks. In his free hand Keith held Fran’s overnight bag.

“We’re checking into the Four Seasons tonight. I’ll call Mom and let her know.” Fran walked to the couch and kissed Lucy good-bye. “Thank you, sweetie. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

Lucy watched them wait for the elevator. She sighed with vicarious bliss when Keith cupped Fran’s head in his hands and kissed her mouth hard. Lucy closed the door and gave them privacy.

She’d just finished scraping the sink clean when there was another pounding at the door. She figured Fran had forgotten something. But it was Theo.

He knew the timing wasn’t perfect, but when would it ever be? Lucy had been expertly avoiding him at the gym and cleverly returned his calls when he was with clients, so it appeared she was making a good-faith effort to communicate, only he knew she wasn’t.

Theo hoped to God he wasn’t waking her up-it was after ten. And he really hoped he wasn’t walking in on some kind of date. He didn’t think he could handle that. All he knew was he had to see her, try to break through this impasse and make sure she was OK.

Because he had a feeling she wasn’t OK at all.

Theo put the gift behind his back just as Lucy opened the door. The expression on her face nearly made him laugh-she looked like a kid who’d been caught doing something reeeeally bad.

One quick scan revealed that she was wearing his favorite ensemble-the pink sweatpants and a baggy T-shirt.

“Hey, Luce. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

She said nothing, but her eyes got wider.

“Can I come in?”

“Of course. Sure. Sorry.” She opened the door for him and Theo looked around, smiling at how it always looked like such a girl’s place from top to bottom- green plants and nice furniture, a spotless kitchen with place mats and a centerpiece on the dinette table. Then he smelled tomato sauce.

“Italian for dinner tonight?”

Lucy’s eyes got huge. “Can I get you something to drink, Theo? What brings you downtown?”

That look in her eyes told him he was right about the Italian-maybe takeout lasagna or pizza-and he asked for some iced tea if she had it. She said she did and motioned for Theo to have a seat in an overstuffed chair.

“How’ve you been?” she asked from the kitchen. “How’d the test go? When do you find out?”

Theo stared at the back of her head-that ponytail- and the sweet, strong ledge of her shoulders, the graceful neck. He’d missed her so much that he found it hard to breathe.

“The test was eight hours long, in two four-hour sessions-anatomy and physiology, histology, pathology. I’d forgotten how it felt to think so hard my brain got sore.” She handed him a glass of iced tea and he drank gratefully.

“That’s a lot of ologies in one day.”

“Yeah, I think that was the point-they wanted to remind me what I was in for.”

Lucy snuggled up on the end of the couch and tucked her feet under her. He saw a flash of pink toe-nails before they disappeared under pink sweatpants. He smiled at her.

“When will you know, Theo?”

“Soon.”

“You’ll get back in. They’d be stupid not to let you back in.”

Theo shrugged. “Even giving me this test was an exception to the rule. I have no idea what they’ll decide.”

Lucy rested her chin in her hand and smiled at him. “So what’s up?”

“I’ve missed you, Luce. I saw you on WakeUp Miami last week.”

She nodded. “Ah. Not my best work.”

“You need to get back in the gym with me.”

Lucy’s eyebrows knit together and she sat up, then tucked her arms around her waist, as if protecting herself. “I am sorry about that crack I made about the money. I know that’s not the only thing that’s important to you.”

Theo laughed. He’d had a fairly amusing conversation with Tyson just the other day about how, if Lucy’s proposed formula was applied, Tyson now owed him six thousand dollars for the weight she’d gained under his tutelage. “Thanks,” he said. “So you’ll work with me again?”

Lucy sighed and grabbed herself tighter. It almost looked like she was fighting off a stomachache.

“I think I have to. Tyson is great, but it’s not the same. I need to get back in the rhythm I had with you, or I’m going to blow this completely.”

Theo set the iced tea on a glass end table and reached behind him. “I brought you something. Buddy and I thought it was just what you needed.” Theo handed her the tissue-wrapped square. “A little something to keep you focused.”

“Peanut brittle?”

“Better.”

Lucy pulled away the paper and Theo watched as she held the Special Olympics creed in her hands, reading, saying nothing. He saw a tear plop onto the shiny brass surface of the plaque.

“It was supposed to inspire you, Luce, not make you sad.”

She looked up at him and grinned. ‘Thank you, and please tell Buddy I said thank you.“

“Will do. It was his idea. He misses you almost as much as I do. Even Norton seems out-of-sorts.”

Lucy laughed. “And you, Theo? How are you?”

Theo just loved this. The cadence of this whole conversation with Lucy felt so damn good it amazed him. Being with her felt like home, like peace, like where he was meant to be. “I’m nothing without you, Luce.”

“Clearly just a shell of a man.”

“I’m even having trouble with my hair gel.”

Lucy placed the plaque on the coffee table and curled back up in a ball, chuckling. Theo reached his hand toward her. Tentatively, she took it.

Lucy shook her head slowly, her ponytail gently swooshing over her shoulder. “I’ve really dropped the ball these last few weeks, Theo. All our hard work-”

“We’ll just start from here. It’s just a place to start.”

Lucy’s beautiful face twisted with disappointment. “With my gain last month, I’ve got thirty-four pounds to go in twelve weeks. We’re probably not going to make our goal.”

“Hey, sweetie…” Theo moved to the edge of his chair and leaned closer, cradling her hand in both of his now. “If you don’t lose another pound from now until December, you still would have made it.”

She nodded, giving him a brave smile.

“That goal was just a gimmick, Luce. An even number that sounded good. You don’t have to go there if you don’t want. You are healthy and fit and beautiful right now. You’re ready to take on the world.”

Lucy nodded. “I rock.”

“You do.” Theo wanted to put his arms around her and smell her hair and feel her warm skin against his. He wanted to love her, soothe her, make her laugh. He wanted to kiss her.

“The important thing is we make the most of the time we’ve got.”

Lucy laughed softly. “Is this Theo-the-Trainer or Theo-the-Philosopher talking?”

He grinned. “Both, Luce.”

“I’m in.”

He was up out of the chair and on the couch before he realized he was moving.

“Theo-”

“Look, I’ve got to tell you something. Will you hear me out?”

Lucy giggled. “I think I should charge a per-confession fee this evening.”

“A what?”

“Nothing.” She smiled at him. “I’m all ears, Theo.”

“No, you’re not.” Theo’s gaze strayed to Lucy’s pretty forearms, wrists, and hands, then to the hollow at the base of her slim throat, to her shoulders, breasts, thighs, hips…

“Does your confession have to do with lust?”

“No.” Theo looked up quickly. “I mean yes! I mean-” Theo brought his arm up over the back of the sofa and stroked her shoulder. “That night at the Mandarin-”

“Theo, look. I’m aware my feelings for you don’t come at a great time, and I also know women have this annoying habit of falling for you-”

“Are you done yet?” Theo brushed his fingertip down the curve of that beautiful, sweet face.

Lucy swallowed and nodded.

“I don’t care about any other woman. Just you. Only you.”

Lucy’s lips parted and her eyes became huge. “What exactly are you saying?”

“The night of the party wasn’t my best work, Lucy. I blew it. I wanted to tell you I loved you, but I was so screwed up in my head that I couldn’t. It was a disaster and I apologize.”

Theo drew his thumb along her bottom lip and watched her turn in to his touch. “I saw you standing there in the ballroom and the force of your beauty and strength just about knocked me over. It was like everything had come to the surface for both of us, right at that instant, and I was in awe of you, so crazy about you, and so afraid.”

“I scared you? I hadn’t even had my first margarita at that point.”

“I’m walking toward you, ready to strip bare my soul to you, and Tyson picks that moment to tell me that you deserve to be savored, enjoyed, and spoiled. Do you know he goes around talking about you like that?”

Lucy beamed. “That’s really nice of him.”

“He was right, you know. And all I could think was that I wouldn’t have time to spoil and enjoy you and if that’s what you deserved, you’d be better off with someone who could.”

Lucy shook her head. “That’s why you acted so weird all night?”

“I didn’t want to let you in and then lose you. I’m sick of losing people, you know? When my parents died, the only thing that kept me going was how angry I was, and how much Buddy needed me. When Jenna left me last year, it was the same shit all over again.”

“Oh, Theo-”

“I thought I could keep my heart safe if I crammed my life so full that there was no room for anyone new to squeeze in. But you squeezed in anyway.” Theo smiled. “You found a crack and you pushed through. Does this make any sense to you?”

She nodded softly. “It does.”

“I never meant to play games with you, Lucy. But when I’m with you, I seem to lose my head. Plus I have a hard time keeping my hands to myself.”

At that, her head popped up and her eyes widened further.

Theo stroked her cheek again and put his mouth to her ear, whispering, “I want to feel you and bury my nose in you and kiss you all over. You draw me in, make me weak.”

Lucy looked to her left and then to her right and said, “You talkin‘ to me?”

“Yes, you,” he said, laughing. “And ever since you started ignoring me, I haven’t been able to remember the reasons why I shouldn’t be with you, just the reasons why I should.”

“What reasons are those?”

Theo got to his knees in front of the sofa. He smoothed her forehead and ran his fingers through her hair. “That you’re everything I’ve ever wanted. I need you in my life.”

Her reaction wasn’t what he expected. Lucy winced and leaned over, clutching her sides. “Are you all right?”

She peered up from her crouch and nodded.

“Was it something you ate?”

“You might say that.”

Theo opened his arms, and Lucy fell in to him, pressing against his chest and sighing in contentment. He sighed, too. She was back where she belonged, in his arms and in his life.

Theo put his lips on her hair and held her tight. “Now that you know how I feel, I want you to take off your clothes and make me glad I’m a man.”

She giggled and brought her lips to his throat, flicking her tongue across his skin. “You’re so suave, Theo. No wonder the women throw themselves at you.”

“So it worked?”

Lucy laughed. “Will this disrobing be for professional assessment purposes only?”

Theo reveled in the feel of her warm and soft kisses on his throat and face. He closed his eyes and wallowed in the scent of Lucy. “This is all horribly unprofessional.”

“Good. Then kiss me.”

He obliged, grabbing her with one arm and pulling himself up to the couch, falling over her, pressing his body down into her, cradling her head as he kissed and nibbled and probed and generally lapped her up.

“You taste so good, Luce. You feel so damn good to me-” Theo’s hands moved along her back and onto her hip and up into the front of that T-shirt, and all he could think about was getting his palm on a breast- one of those round, warm female breasts that he’d missed desperately.

Lucy had her hands inside his shirt as well, up underneath the cotton, her fingers splayed over his chest, her mouth meeting his and giving back every bit of what she received. Lucy was hot and sweet and Theo knew he had waited far too long and made far too much of a very simple reality-this woman was what he wanted. He loved her.

“Let me love you, Lucy.”

“I thought you’d never ask.” She pushed up to a sitting position, then threw herself at him and knocked him back into the couch cushions, covering him with her heat and her smell and the silky sweet kisses and sexy little moans he didn’t think he’d ever be able to live without.

He yanked on her T-shirt and pulled it over her head. He grabbed the waistband of those revolting pink sweatpants and pushed down until they cleared the mounds of her butt, which he then grabbed onto with both hands.

“Let me feel you. Let me look at you. God, yes, I need you so much, Luce.”

Lucy popped up and sat on his thighs. She smiled down at him as she reached around and unhooked her bra, shrugged out of it, and tossed it to the floor. Then she reached up and dragged the ponytail holder out of her hair.

And there she was, naked from the hips up, all pink and soft and sexy, and those eyes were sparkling and daring him and Theo wanted this woman so much he thought he’d bust.

He brought his hands up and cradled her breasts, watching with fascination how the large dark pink nipples puckered and elongated from the gentle touch. He stroked his fingers across the pale freckles on her chest, then across the beat of her blood as it pulsed through her carotid artery, thinking such a profoundly simple thought-that a human body could be exercised and molded and trained, but it was the spirit inside that made a person who she was.

And he’d always loved the person inside this body.

Theo rose up and brought his mouth to her left breast and suckled on her, felt her move back and forth on his thighs, heard her moans grow deeper and louder.

“Do you think we could possibly ditch these butt-ugly pink sweatpants, Luce?”

She nodded enthusiastically and rose on her knees and shimmied the pants down, then reached behind her and pulled them off her calves and feet, tossing them to the floor.

Lucy was now just wearing a pair of lacy underwear, not a thong but not granny panties, either, and Theo could see her like never before. Her hips were smooth and curvy and her belly-the one they’d worked on for ten months-was soft and rounded and vulnerable, and he stroked her there, spread his hands over her, and she rolled her head back and groaned. She was simply beautiful.

He let his hands travel downward, and he cupped her mound through her panties. Her head flew upright.

“Wait,” she gasped.

“For how long? And why?”

Lucy grabbed his wrist and held his hand still. She looked down at him. “I’ll be right back.”

“Oh jeez, Luce. Not this again.”

She was already off him, and he watched her as she ran into her bedroom. Before she could change her mind, he ran in there after her, catching her just as she slipped a slinky little camisole over her top. He came up behind her and nuzzled the back of her neck, all while he slipped off her panties.

“I want all of you.”

“You can have all of me. I’m just not ready for you to see it all, not all at once.”

“I adore you. I want to see every inch of you.”

“Someday soon. I promise.”

“Maybe that could be my reward at the end of all this, Lucy,” he joked. “We reach our goal and you get Jamaica and I get your totally naked body to look at as I please.”

She turned in his arms, a thoughtful look on her face. “Maybe we really should use this as our motivator. No sex until we’ve reached our goal. I would be positively driven to succeed.”

She placed her hand on his shorts and slipped the belt free, unzipped the zipper, and reached inside his boxers. “Think about it,” she whispered, stroking him until dark splotches danced in his vision. “You’re the expert on motivation, aren’t you? Didn’t you say I needed a reward that was decadent, luxurious, something waiting for me that I wanted more than anything?”

“Forget it.”

“It’s just twelve weeks.”

“No way.” Theo slammed his lips down on hers, stroked the bare flesh of her bottom and her thighs, reached around between her legs, touched the hard little button between her pussy lips.

“I’d be ready to explode by then,” Lucy gasped.

“I’m ready to explode now,” he said, pushing her down onto the bed.

“Let’s flip a coin,” she suggested.

Theo couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. Lucy was on her back, her legs open, her sex exposed, and she was suggesting they flip a coin to determine if they’d proceed.

As Theo ripped off his shorts, he rooted around in his pocket for a quarter. Lucy sat up on the edge of the bed, holding the coin and staring at his hard cock.

“I’ve missed you,” she said, momentarily distracted. “OK. Heads or tails?”

“I want head and tail,” he said.

Lucy laughed. Theo didn’t.

“All right,” she said with a sigh. “Heads, we hose like rabbits for the next twelve weeks. Tails, we torture each other for motivation and after the last weigh-in you get me naked, no delaying on my part, no more excuses. Ready?”

This was insane. “No.”

Lucy flipped the coin and smacked it down on the back of her hand. She peeled her top hand away. ‘Tails.“

“Fuck that.” Theo rolled with her on the bed and they laughed and in between kisses and guffaws they agreed that it would be just this once… then they’d go on the clock.

They did everything they could think of in the next five hours, and Theo got his head and his tail, and at four in the morning Lucy walked Theo to the door.

“I’ll see you at the gym in an hour, Cunningham. Don’t be late.”

She snickered, straightening the camisole. “Be nice to me today. I can hardly move.”

Theo stared at her. “I can’t go twelve weeks without you, you know. The coin flipping was amusing, but you can’t really be serious about this no-sex policy.”

Lucy shifted her weight and leaned against the hall table. She brought her eyes to his and said thoughtfully, “Theo? What if I said the sacrifice would keep me focused?”

“You’re serious.”

“Think about it. I love you and want you and need you, and I have millions of people watching me make this last push toward my goal. What if sexual tension spurs me on? Think of what I would do to get my hands on you again.”

Theo felt his eyebrows rise high. “Spinning classes?”

“You’re not that good.”

Theo laughed. “My goodness, Miss Cunningham. You’re a shark.”

Lucy gave him one of her sweet, wonderful smiles. “No. I’m just a practical woman. You’ll be my carrot on a stick. You’ll be my Miller time.”

“I won’t last four days.”

“I’ll wear my pink sweatpants a lot.”

“That’ll help.”

“Be brave. Be strong.”

“I’ll see you in less than an hour now, Cunningham.”

Theo kissed her cheek, and as he turned to leave he picked up a small slip of paper from the foyer table. He turned and frowned at her.

“What?” she asked.

“Did you order pizza last night?”

Lucy’s jaw fell open and her eyes got huge. “How the hell did you know? Did you taste it on my breath?”

Theo smiled and shook his head. “The only thing I tasted on your breath was paradise, babe. But here’s your receipt.”

“She’s not fat enough! She needs to be fat! You promised she’d stay fat!”

Stephan winced at the sound of Murray Goldstein’s New York bellow, wondering how he could gently point out that technically, he’d promised no such thing. He’d only promised that Lucy would fail to meet her goal, making the Palm Club look bad, and that would, in turn, stop Murray from losing customers to Ramona Cortez.

That’s all he’d ever promised. Not that that wasn’t bad enough.

“She’s attractive now! You’re ruining me!”

Stephan felt the sweat break out on his upper lip and wiped it off with a shaking hand.

“I’m done with you. You put a stop to this right now or you have seaweed growing out of your eye sockets. Your choice.”

He supposed it was a blessing to know the truth about his fate instead of worrying about it. At least Murray had not used the expression “sleeping with the fishes.”

It’s a good thing he’d taken the time off to prepare for his escape. He’d acquired a fake Canadian passport. He’d rented a house in the Caymans. He was ready to go at a moment’s notice.

Stephan reached for his ibuprofen but found a Snickers bar instead and unwrapped it. He finished it in three bites and added the latest wrapper to the pile in the trash can. He really should cool it on the carbs. Maybe Lola had been right.

“Are you listening to me, Sherrod? Your time is up.”

Stephan hung up on him and had begun to root around for another Snickers when he felt someone’s presence in his doorway. He looked up to see Lola Di-Paolo, which shocked him for two reasons-she’d never come to his office before, and he wasn’t used to seeing her with clothes on.

She frowned at him. “Have you been eating candy bars?”

“Huh?” He looked down at his hand and shoved the Snickers back in the desk drawer. “Of course not. What are you doing here?”

Lola closed the door behind her and made herself comfortable in one of the chairs facing his desk. “That fat bitch got me fired.”

Stephan smiled. “So I heard. But I think you helped yourself out a little, there.”

“It’s not fair!”

Stephan nodded. “Look, Lola, I have a meeting. Is there something I can do for you?”

She huffed, and looked quite hurt. “I want you to give me a job.”

Stephan nearly choked. “Uh. Doing what exactly?”

“I’ll help you with your Lucy problem, maybe see if I can find a way to pop her balloon. If I weren’t out of a job, I’d do it for free, of course.”

Stephan nodded. Maybe Lola really did understand how this game was played. “And your salary would be in platinum toe rings or cash?”

She smiled. “How about a little of both?”

Journal Entry Sept 16

Breakfast: 3/4 c oatmeal; 1/4 c raisins; 1 c skim milk; decaf

Lunch: 3 oz turkey breast; 1 oz light cheese; 2 c salad and raw veggies; 2 tbsp olive oil and red wine vinegar; 1/2 c brown rice

Dinner: 3 oz grilled red snapper; 1 c steamed broccoli; 3/4 c couscous

Snack: 1 c light yogurt; 1 c raspberries

Affirmation for Today:

Whoever penned the phrase “being thin feels better than anything tastes” should be forced to eat nothing but rice cakes for all of eternity.

Office of Doris Lehman, “MSW, PhD Lucy decided she’d lie down today. She kicked off her shoes, stretched out on the love seat, and propped her head on an armrest. She crossed her feet at the ankles.

“I am ready to be analyzed,” she said.

Doris laughed. “How’s the celibacy thing been working out?”

Lucy closed her eyes and sighed deeply. “Well, since the pizza night we’ve been pretty good. A few kisses here and there. Theo rubbed my back one morning after a hard workout and it got a little out of control.”

“Oh? What happened?”

“He started rubbing my front, too.”

“I see.”

“Then he followed me into the ladies’ locker room and threw me down on the bench.”

“Oh my.”

“Yeah. Scared the cleaning lady half to death.”

“But is it motivating you?”

Lucy opened one eye. “Doris, I’m so damn motivated I can’t see straight. I’m so motivated that I’m starting to think both Andy Taylor and Barney Fife are sexy.”

As Lucy walked toward the scale, she crossed her fingers. She crossed her toes. She crossed her eyes.

She knew this was a moment of reckoning. That morning’s WakeUp Miami audience was overflowing out into the street. The TV station had to hire off-duty Miami police officers for crowd control. Lucy saw some of her steadfast fans out in the studio audience waving signs and wearing their autographed T-shirts, and she really didn’t want to let them down. She didn’t want to let Theo down. Most of all, she didn’t want to let herself down.

In the moment it took to reach the scale, the last few weeks raced by in her mind. She’d worked harder than she’d ever worked in her life-running, cycling, free weights, abs, glutes, pecs-it was a blur. Her food had been sane and healthy. Her journal was accurate and full of positive thinking-OK, most days. And Theo was back in her life. They were a team again.

“Go, Lucy! Go, Lucy!” the audience shouted.

Theo held out his hand and she took it, stepping onto the scale. She blinked and focused on the audience, then abruptly laughed-Luigi the pizza guy was in the second row! He waved and shouted and she waved back, exhaling deeply, knowing that the air in her lungs didn’t weigh much, but surely it weighed something.

At least Theo’s fingers were tapping the right way. At least she hadn’t gained again. The crowd was getting a little rowdy, and John Weaver asked for quiet.

Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap.

“You rock, Cunningham,” Theo whispered to her. Then he faced the cameras. “Lucy’s lost the six pounds she gained last month, plus an additional four. Lucy weighs one hundred and fifty-four pounds today.”

The cheering was so loud that her ears hurt. Theo helped her down and hugged her hard. She started to cry-from relief, from happiness, and because Theo had his arms around her for the world to see, and they reached just fine.