Bon Bons to Yoga Pants

Chapter 2- Bloated Flamingo

The bridesmaid dress made me look like a bloated flamingo.

Three mirrors reflecting my rolling hips and thighs didn't help. My size eighteen hips and less-than-impressive chest formed a perfect oval next to McKenzie's lithe, size-four, hourglass figure.

"This is what you picked out? Seriously?" I asked, running my fingers over the silky material. Kenz flittered around me, squealing with delight.

"Oh!" she squeaked. "It's perfection!"

If an overstuffed bottle of Pepto-Bismol was perfect, then yes, I looked perfect.

"Mom—" I began.

  "Just a second, honey," she said, waving an absent hand through the air while fidgeting with a pink bow at my side. A sales lady in a svelte black suit hovered just behind Mom like a storm cloud, no doubt sensing the inevitable sale. Mom never could prevent herself from buying anything pink. I rolled my eyes, let out a dramatic sigh, and then glanced at the clock.

Salvation!

"Oh look at the time!" I cried, "Gotta get to work."

Mom opened her mouth to protest, a deep wrinkle forming on her forehead. She must have caught a reflection of herself on one of the mirrors because she instantly straightened her forehead and let the wrinkle smooth out. She was an attractive, lean woman with streaks of gray in her blonde hair, cut into a tasteful bob. Except for McKenzie's deep brown hair, which she'd gotten from Dad, the two of them could have been twins.

"Well, at least we know the dress fits and looks . . . lovely," Mom said. I ignored her hesitation.

"I love it!" McKenzie's squeaky girl voice mimicked the tiny mouse of her body. "It'll go just great with all the pink azaleas. You could lose a few pounds, you know Lexie, and it would fit better."

She put her hands on her hips and set a determined eye on me.

"Gotta go," I said, stepping off the stand of death, ducking away from the bright lights, and stumbling into the back dressing room. After peeling off the dress that fit like a banana skin, I returned to the comfortable relief of my usual clothes and slung my backpack over my shoulder.

McKenzie's lower lip stuck out in a mock pout when I emerged.

"Not that old outfit again," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "You look like you're on your way to the gym, not work."

I ignored her, kissed Mom on the cheek, and called a farewell over my shoulder. A blast of cold, snowy air met me with a cool kiss on my flushed cheeks.

Pink for a bridesmaid, I thought with a grimace, heading down the hazy street. I'll have to work overtime to make sure Bradley doesn't see any pictures of it on Facebook.

I pulled my phone out of the side pocket of my backpack. No messages. No notifications. With a sigh I threw it back into the pocket and zipped it closed. He must have been busy today. I normally heard from him by now.

McKenzie's admonishment to lose weight accompanied me to Lucky's, the Irish pub where I'd worked since graduating high school. Most nights I wore a white t-shirt and hid behind a green apron with a shamrock on front. Most customers didn't notice me when they ordered, just the way I liked it.

My boss Pat stood behind a long cherry wood bar when I walked in, setting the bell jangling, and inhaling the familiar scent of yeast and cloves. Pat was a round man with bright apple cheeks and a smile that made his eyes disappear. He waved and continued speaking with a guy at the opposite end of the bar.

"Sorry I was almost late!" I called. "Mom stuffed me into a pink thing that made it look like a Smurf vomited."

As usual, business was never busy at the pub during the late afternoon on a weekday. After ensuring the glasses were clean, the bar wiped, and no one needed anything, I opened my homework beneath the lip of the bar, keeping my phone where I could see it in case Bradley texted me, and set to my homework.