One Quiet Dinner

CW: Verbal abuse.

“So, you’re just going to eat all of that?”

Baked mac and cheese, collard greens, candied yams, potato salad, mashed potatoes, creamed spinach, and some fried rice scattered throughout the large plate at the other end of the table.

“All of that?

Every…single…bite?

Really?”

Three different meats—barbecue ribs, fried chicken, and slices of turkey—plopped on top of the sides and nearly hang off the plate’s edge.

The day wasn’t Thanksgiving.

It wasn’t Christmas.

It wasn’t anyone’s birthday.

It was a random Tuesday.

In July—no, not the 4th.

It was nearly August.

Klarissa looked down at the plate in front of her, with its few light-green leaves and two tomato slices, and then back at the one packed to the brim as a soft piano crooned from the stereo nearby.

“I can’t believe you’re really going to eat all of that. All of it?! Seriously?!?

What is wrong with you?!”

Beside the large plate lay a stick of butter—nice and soft in preparation of an easy spread on the three breads present: A roll. Cornbread. And a toasted slice.

Salt and pepper shakers, as well as two different brands of hot sauce, sat beside it, just in case some extra kick was needed mid-bite.

“What is wrong with you?! How can one person eat so fucking much?!?” Klarissa’s face scrunched in disgust.

“And have you looked in a mirror lately?! You aren’t exactly Halle Berry or Halle Bailey, lady. Or Halle Bailey, for that matter!!

Your rolls are growing out of control. The flaps on your arms are taking up whole lives of their own. And your stretch marks are growing stretch marks.”

Soft white steam rose ferociously from the hefty plate, contrasting the cold small plate that lay before her and out-smoking the single candle positioned in the table’s middle.

“I mean… Who has three different meats and like 10 different sides on a non-holiday. Not to mention the breads.

This isn’t a party, isn’t a special event. No one’s celebrating!! Not a birthday or wedding or special anniversary. It’s just a regular-ass weekday, and here you go again, stuffing your face.”

Amidst the blend of instrumentals gently harmonizing in the background, a dog barked in the distance.

“Do you hear me?!

I mean…

Don’t you want better for yourself?!

What does your blood pressure even look like? I’m scared to know. You probably have diabetes. Gotta have insane high cholesterol. Probably one burger away from the biggest heart attack in human history. And yet here you still go.

And what’s even crazier, you’ve always been like this.

Always been a…I don’t know, ‘pig’ might be too nice. A cow? An elephant?

T-Rex?!?

A dinosaur.

You’re like a fucking dinosaur.”

Her expression of disgust stretched visibly as a violin strum.

“Didn’t growing up teach you anything—all of the kids who constantly made fun of you back in the day?

‘Aww here comes the garbage disposal, here comes the garbage disposal!’ ‘Come on, garbage disposal – come and eat it all up!!

We know you will!’

On the playground.

In the classroom.

In the neighborhood.

You got it everywhere.

Even at home.

Mom saying you were going to pop any second.

Dad trying to force you to go with him to the gym.

Tried to trick you into it, talking about ‘Hey, peanut, come help ‘daddy’ get stronger!’” Klarissa air-quoted with her fingers.

“Yeah, he was just trying to be nice. Hell, even his nickname for you was food.

Everyone always knew what he really wanted to say: ‘Hey, fat-ass Peanut. Why don’t you come lift some dumbbells instead of a fuckin’ donut for a change?!’

Fuck.

You were just always so damned fat.”

The stereo briefly quieted, before moving on to the next track.

Klarissa peered over at the fireplace. Above it hang a collection of certificates and pictures of different people.

“You know that’s why you lost all those promotions. Who wants to give an opportunity to a sorry fat ass?!

It’s definitely why Joe broke off the engagement, despite what he claimed. ‘We’re both so different now. We want different things out of life.’

Pfft—yeah, right.

Anyone with half a brain and working eyes could see…”

An aggressive sax solo suddenly dominated the air.

“It’s because you’re FAT!

Who wants a fat woman at their side?!

I actually honestly don’t even know how you managed to pull him in the first place.

Must’ve been a mercy thing. Mercy flirt, mercy interest, mercy relationship.

Some people do that, ya’ know. Just trying to be nice.

Like your dad.

So, I guess maybe it was for the best that he eventually dumped you.

Because really, how long would a relationship built solely on pity last anyway?”

Klarissa looked again at her plate of green and red with a similar look of disgust and then back at the large one across from her.

“Although Lord knows you need something in your life. You have no friends. What kind of loser has no friends?!? What kind of horrible person do you have to possibly be to not have friends?!?

You can make friends literally anywhere. At the grocery store—I know you love that place. At the gas station. At work. Walking down the street!!

Wherever there are humans, there is the potential for friends!!

Literally all you have to do is talk to them, see what you have in common, and bam, there you go—you have a friend.

But nope, not you.

You’re manless.

Friendless.

Practically beautyless.

I mean, your face is…okay.”

Her face dropped into her lap as she spoke right above a whisper.

“You have a decent smile.

I guess.

But what good does a decent smile do anyone?!” Her voice rose again.

“You don’t even have the excuse of being as fat by nature.

‘Big-boned…’

Because surprise, surprise. Despite it once seeming nearly impossible, you actually went and did something about it...at one point.

I would’ve thought you’da had a better chance building the pyramids!

But alas…

In college, you got finally tired of all the stares, all the jeers, all of the sad looks of pity. And you went on…your own version of a diet.

And voilà! One-hundred pounds less later...

And then up and down, up and down.

Couldn’t get consistent with it to save your fucking life.”

Klarissa’s eyes rolled.

“And now, for what seems like years, you’ve been up.

Way up.

One-hundred-and-fucking-eighty-two.

The scale doesn’t lie, girl!

You’re one-hundred-and-fucking-eighty-two pounds.

How am I supposed to be seen with you anywhere?!

What would people think?!”

I’m honestly so fucking embarrassed to know you.

You fucking dinosaur.”

Klarissa took a big inhale, glancing at her small plate once again.

Then, she calmly pushed herself from the long table.

She stood, pushed her chair back in, and then walked over to the other end.

Staring at the decreasingly steaming plate, she slowly sat down in the chair in front of it.

Grabbing the nearby cutlery roll, she unrolled it and placed the napkin in her lap.

After generously shaking the salt and pepper over the meal, she cut and spread on all the breads large slabs of butter.

Gripping the fork and knife, she dug in.