Page 52 of The Do-Over

“I can give you the name of my personal trainer,” Joel Allen chimed in.

Kill. Me. Now.

“You know I’m sitting right here, don’t you?” I asked, fingertips turning white from gripping my glass of water too tightly. “And it’s my birthday.”

Phee frowned. “Geez, Mom. Stop. Perci looks good in a dress right now and in lots of colors. She doesn’t need to lose weight.”

Pressing my lips together, I pushed the food around on my plate. Brent’s arm still lay across my shoulders like a weight. The Spanx felt suffocating, pinching my body into strange shapes.

Mom leaned back in her chair, her expression earnest. She was, you know, helping here, after all. “It’s something to consider. Wedding photos do last forever, and you don’t want to embarrass yourself.”

The room went silent. I wanted to disappear. Mimi reached for her iced tea, took a slow sip, and set it down with a thunk.

“Did you know, Bobbie Jo here used to carry around a few extra pounds? Chubby little thing when she was little.” Eyes narrowed, she turned to her daughter. “Now, you’re skinny and a bitch. Eat some cake, honey. We’d all appreciate it.”

My mother’s face turned a very unflattering shade of red. “Mama! I cannot believe you.”

Mimi replied, but her words were white noise in my head. I pushed away from the table, chair legs scraping against the floor. A sharp pain cut through my chest and those damn Spanx tightened around my body. Like a noose. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

I splashed cool water on my face, but it was useless. My hands shook with embarrassment, but more than that, anger. I peered in the mirror. Why was I always the target? Maybe I wasn’t smart or beautiful like Phee, but I still deserved kindness. The worst part was my mother believed she was being kind, helpful even.

Following Mimi’s actions from earlier, I climbed onto the lid of the toilet, opened the window and stuck my head out. The cool air helped some, but those Spanx cut into my thighs, my waist, my ribcage. A whole-body suit to suck in all the parts my mother frowned on. I wasn’t even certain I could button these pants without them.

Mathias’s voice replayed in my mind, reminding me of those resolutions and that I wasn’t supposed to try and be a better daughter. And that’s what I was doing, wasn’t I? Hiding in the bathroom instead of telling my mom how I felt.

But I was New Perci now, and New Perci had a backbone.

My fingers went to my waist all on their own. They unhooked the first button of my pants and the weight in my chest eased. A moment later, I stood in my parents’ downstairs bathroom, stripped to my underwear, the Spanx tossed in a beige heap on the floor.

Yes, that was better. Tension drained from my shoulders, my head cleared, my body relaxed. Yes, yes. I straightened, feeling more grounded and pissed right the hell off.

Stop trying so hard. Be you.

The pants didn’t quite button without the extra help, but I held them closed with one hand and snagged the Spanx from the floor with the other. Shoulders straight and with as much dignity as a woman whose pants didn’t fit could muster, I marched into the dining room.

No one noticed my return.

“Daddy.” My voice came out as a whisper. Scowling, I cleared my throat and tried again. “Daddy!”

Okay, perhaps too loud. Having a backbone might take some practice. Six pairs of eyes swung in my direction.

“I would appreciate it if you would try to remember when my birthday is, just once.” I nodded and swung around to face the other side of the table.

“Brent, I wish you weren’t here. We are never, ever getting back together. In fact…” I straightened, and a mental image of Nate flashed in my brain, of him smiling down at Lilah and how he’d rescued me from the rain and of how he fascinated me without even trying. That image translated into words. “To answer your question, yes, I am seeing someone. His name is Nate, and he’s my neighbor.”

My mom let out a tiny gasp, drawing my attention.

“And, Mom, do not ever, ever buy me Spanx again.” I tossed the offending article of clothing her way. It landed on top of the meatloaf, a leg flopping into the gravy.

“Persephone!”

“Thank you for a lovely birthday dinner. It’s one I’ll never forget. I’ll call you later, Mimi.”

Head high, I twisted on my heels, took three steps and tripped over a prone Pericles. He gave me a look that said, it serves you right; I gave him a look that said, I will dance on your grave someday. Then I hobbled to the front door, Mimi’s cackling laughter following in my wake.

TWENTY-ONE

“There’s a foot for every shoe,