Teenage Waistland by Lynn Biederman

Author:Lynn Biederman [Biederman, Lynn]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-0-375-89722-1
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2010-11-09T05:00:00+00:00

20

Least

Monday, July 20, 2009

East (−9 lbs); Char (−7 lbs)

“Did you order the Cream of Wheat?” I call over the TV. It’s eleven a.m. and I’m lying in bed. I check my phone again—Char still hasn’t texted. She, my supposed best friend, probably stayed up late with Marcie.

“Mom? Did you place the order?” I yell again. She said she was going to do it online last night, but I probably should have done it myself. Though I don’t see why I should be the one to order all the groceries when I’m mostly on water, broth, juice, and skim milk for another three days. Blended yogurt and hot cereal are the only foodlike things I can eat.

“East, we have the instant Quaker Oats. Do you want me to make some for you?” Not at all. Why should you be taking care of me? I’m just your only daughter who just had surgery. What happened to being with me “every step of the way”? Even the steps to the recovery room were too difficult for you—and you were already in the hospital! And the only steps I’ve seen you take since I got home from the hospital are the ones leading back into your bedroom. You were so engrossed in your precious TV that when Char helped me to the front door, we had to ring four times before you answered, even though I called from the car to say I’d be home in five minutes.

“No, Mom. I’ll get it. You want some?” I say, my voice flatter than even her spiritless tone. I slip into my bathrobe and kill my stomach bending for my slippers. “Owww!” I scream.

The TV clicks off. “You okay? What happened?” Mom comes in, the stupid remote with CH and VOL worn off the buttons still in her hand.

“Stomach’s a little sore, that’s all.”

“C’mon downstairs with me. I’ll make the cereal,” she says.

“Not too much. I’ll probably only be able to eat a couple of mouthfuls.”

“That’s all?” Mom says. Yes. Most mothers would know. But that was part of the post-op instructions and … What is the point?

“Yes, a few mouthfuls eaten very slowly,” I tell her.

“Why don’t you come down and order what you want while I make the oatmeal?” she calls over the clatter of cabinets opening and closing.

I want Cream of Wheat. If Char wasn’t at Marcie’s, I could have asked her to bring some over, and yogurt or something. Of course, she also could have asked if I needed anything. But no. When she called yesterday morning, it was to say she was off to Marcie’s for Liselle’s party.

“Whatever,” I said.

“C’mon, East. Marcie needs support.”

“What about me?”

“I’ll be home tomorrow. I’ll come over and support you all you want.”

“No, I mean about going to Marcie’s.”

“Shroudness, you’re not back to that again? Besides, you said you feel like crap.”

I said nothing.

“Look, you won’t be missing a thing. I’ll text you the scoop on Liselle’s little surprise as it goes down. It’ll be just like you’re there,” Char said.

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