Suzy Q's

In 1834, Warren Price founded a woolen mill in Deary, Massachusetts, alongside the Blackstone River. The mill first produced woolen fabric for Union soldiers’ uniforms during the Civil War and later continued supplying material through both World War I and World War II. Over time, Price Woolen Mill generated considerable wealth for both the Price family and the town itself.

In the 1930s, one of Price’s great-grandsons, Steven Seagrate, modernized the factory and expanded its role within the community by constructing housing for workers. His investments did not stop there; he went on to build schools, a library, and a small hospital, firmly establishing the family’s legacy in Deary. The Seagrates became so highly regarded that the town eventually adopted the name Price in honor of the mills founder, Warren Price.

Today, Steven’s son, Donald, owns and operates the mill, conducting business on a global scale. The family still resides in their ancestral homestead—a large white mansion perched on a hill overlooking the town.

Donald and his wife have one child, a daughter named Cassandra Collen. Cassandra, after Donald’s grandmother, and Collen, after her mother’s maiden name. Ever since she was a baby, Cassandra was chubby, so her parents gave her the nickname “Chubby Cheeks.” When she was about four or five, they began calling Cassandra “CC.”

When Cassandra was thirteen and starting junior high, some of the new kids asked what the “CC” stood for. Knowing full well it meant Chubby Cheeks, she told them it was short for Cassandra Collen. Still a pudgy little girl at the time, Cassandra decided then and there to become a vegan in hopes of losing weight. She added yoga and light jogging to her routine, and by the time she reached her sophomore year, she stood five foot five and was a slim one hundred and nine pounds. In high school, she was the envy of every girl and the object of every boy’s desire. Cassandra’s shoulder-length, golden-chestnut hair framed a perfect, diamond-shaped face, accentuated by full lips and hazel eyes. With a model’s figure and an impeccable sense of style, she wore only the most fashionable clothes and shoes. Cassandra was not only voted best dressed but also the Homecoming Queen at the senior prom.

After graduating with honors, Cassandra attended a prestigious college and earned a master’s degree in business. Despite her beauty and charm, she never had a boyfriend, though many young men pursued her. After college, she joined her father at the woolen company and quickly proved herself an asset, landing several large accounts. All the while, she maintained a strict vegan diet and exercise routine and took meticulous care with her appearance. Undoubtedly, these traits were part of the reason she remained single at forty. Cassandra told her family she had never found the right man, but the truth was that she was too absorbed in herself.

As Cassandra grew older, she became increasingly obsessed with her lifestyle. She convinced herself she was eating too much, certain that she was putting on weight. To correct this, she eliminated her strawberry-banana breakfast smoothie and settled instead for a smaller portion of vanilla fruit salad. Lunch was replaced with what had once been only her mid-day snack—a homemade honey granola bar. In the evenings, she ate the same meal every night: slow-cooked portabella mushrooms.

The weight fell off quickly. Too quickly. Her eyes and cheeks grew sunken, her arms pencil-thin, and though she did not suffer from anorexia, she hovered dangerously close. She tried to conceal the changes with heavier eye makeup and thicker rouge. Even her beautiful hair showed the strain, becoming dull and dry, and she began wearing scarves and head wraps more often to hide what she could no longer ignore.

One evening on her way home, Cassandra realized she was out of almond milk. Rather than drive all the way across town to Whole Foods, she decided to try the local convenience store, QuickStop. To her surprise, two cartons were sitting in the dairy case. She’d never heard of the brand and sighed. “Oh well—almond milk is almond milk.” With that, she headed for the front of the store.

As she joined the checkout line, she took in the merchandise around her. Magazines and soft drinks were expected, but the sheer volume of snack foods made her wince—chips and cookies, rows of mints and gum, and an entire display devoted to salted nuts.

Cassandra shook her head in disgust—until her eyes land on a package of Hostess Suzy Q’s. Desire floods in instantly. The sight of the two decadent devil’s food cakes, split by a thick layer of white cream, made her mouth water. She became so entranced that she didn’t hear the cashier until the words are repeated.

“I said, that’ll be three fifty, please.”

Befuddled, Cassandra pays the young man. While waiting for her receipt, she glances once more at the snack.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” he asks.

Cassandra feels her face turn pink. “No, no—I’m fine,” she says, and quickly leaves the store. Her mind races over what has just occurred. What on earth was that about? she wonders. Is it something I used to eat as a child? If so, you’d think I’d remember it. So strange. For the rest of the evening, Cassandra couldn’t relax—the image of the Suzy Q’s package kept intruding on her thoughts, each time deepening her craving.

The next morning, work began with a meeting. The conference room was set up as usual, with coffee and Danish laid out on the side table. Cassandra typically ignored both, but this morning she surprised herself by pouring a cup of coffee with cream and one sugar.

As the meeting droned on, she sipped and smiled. She had never realized how good coffee could be with cream and sugar. When it came time to vote on the new proposition, she voted yes, only vaguely aware of what she was agreeing to. Before heading back to her office, Cassandra refilled her cup, this time adding two sugars and extra cream.

Her coworker Dan watched the whole thing with fascination and amusement.

“Cassandra,” he chuckled, “try as I might, I can’t ever remember you drinking a cup of coffee before!”

Cassandra smiled coyly. “I had trouble sleeping last night, so I figured some coffee—with sugar—might give me a boost, if you know what I mean.”

Dan responded with good-natured enthusiasm. “Oh, believe me, I do! My day doesn’t even start until I’ve had my morning coffee.” He laughed heartily.

That evening, Cassandra picked at her mushroom soup, her appetite noticeably absent. She tried to lose herself in the spy novel she was reading, but the words refused to hold her attention. Before she knew it, her thoughts had drifted to plotting a trip to the convenience store. She didn’t need almond milk—she had just bought some the day before. So, what other excuse could she invent to go? Lost in thought, Cassandra let out a small mushroom-soup burp.

“That’s it—Rolaids! I remember seeing them at the checkout counter!”

She grabbed her coat and purse and dashed out the door.

Inside the store, she forced herself to slow down, resisting the urge to sprint straight to the register. Instead, she sauntered up to the counter, casually scanning for the Rolaids. Just in case someone she knew was watching, Cassandra put on a bit of a performance, pretending the antacid was the real reason she was there. With trembling fingers, she picked up a package of Suzy Q’s. She struggled to stay calm as the clerk rang up her items and slid them into a bag.

Stepping outside, Cassandra couldn’t believe how hard her heart was pounding.

"You’d think I’d just bought illegal drugs, she thought.

When Cassandra arrived home, she locked the door behind her and flicked on the stove’s small light. She set her forbidden treasure in the center of the kitchen table and stepped back, her thoughts tumbling over one another. What am I thinking? Am I losing my mind? It’s just a cheap piece of cake!

She moved closer and tipped the bag, allowing the Rolaids spill onto the floor. Even upside down, the cake revealed itself, tempting and unmistakable. At once, she regretted not buying any whole milk—real, white milk. She was certain it would taste infinitely better with a cold glass beside it. Cassandra sat down and drew the package closer, tearing it open along the sealed seam in the back. As she peeled away the white cardboard backing, some of the moist cake clung to her fingers. She paused, staring at them for a moment, then pressed them to her lips, scraping the crumbs off with her bottom teeth. A shiver of pure ambrosia rippled through her as she tasted the sweet dessert for the first time.

She sighed in quiet satisfaction, eyes dropping back to her prize. Only then did she notice two cakes were resting on the table. The realization made her smile.

“Of course,” she murmured. “Suzy Q’s.” Cassandra now faced a dilemma: Do I eat them one at a time, or both at once? One bite was all it took to answer that question. She devoured both in seconds.

She flopped back in her chair, nearly panting with delight, already craving more. What could she do? Going back to the QuickStop would be mortifying. Then she remembered the Safeway she passed on her way home. Yes—that was it. She would stop there and buy a box of Suzy Q’s, and maybe a gallon of whole milk. No—definitely a gallon. She’d need that much milk for so many Q’s.

Cassandra jumped up, grabbed a pen and paper, and began scribbling her list: Suzy Q’s, milk… maybe bagels. She’d always wanted to try bagels for breakfast, so of course, she’d need cream cheese too. She paused just long enough to wipe the drool from her chin before continuing to write.

After months of binge-eating, some of her coworkers remarked on how good she looked now that she was putting on weight. Cassandra panicked. She never wanted to be known as Chubby Cheeks—or “CC”—ever again. The problem was that every time she tried to resist her obsession, her cravings only grew more intense. Sometimes the effort even made her sick.

Realizing she was losing the battle, Cassandra decided the only thing left to do was retire. She asked her cousin if he would be willing to take over her position so she could travel the world before she died. He agreed.

. At fifty, Cassandra said her goodbyes. With her bags packed, she set off to see the world.

Two years later

In a cold-water flat in Brownsville, New York City, a landlord did his best to explain the situation to the police.

“I don’t know, ya know? I mean, she seemed like a real nice lady. Paid her rent a year in advance, so I never really saw her. Then the guy next door started complainin’ about the smell. I opened the door, saw this—and called yous guys.”

The officers peered into the apartment. A four-hundred-pound woman lay dead on the bed, surrounded by a mountain of empty Suzy Q wrappers, crushed chip bags, and discarded Krispy Kreme boxes. Beside the bed sat a half-empty bag of sugar, a large spoon jutting from its mouth like a final indulgence frozen in time.

The coroner ruled it heart failure.

But we know better.

She died of a Suzy Q overdose.