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Plus sized is the correct term, but I prefer curvy or fluffy. I never lacked for attention or had to beg for a man to date me. For some reason, that motherfucker thought he needed to save me from myself. Lots of snide little comments like ‘you have such a pretty face Rena, if only you could lose some weight’ not to mention the public body shaming, like when we would go out to eat and he would order me a salad.
I mean, I liked salad as much as the next person, but I was old enough to order for myself, fuck you very much. So yeah. That relationship ended fairly quickly. I mean, Dale was a dick with a mediocre dick.
Go figure.
But I had bigger things to worry about than that jerk. This was it. The last weekend I would ever have living in the house where my grandparents raised me. They were both gone now, and I was officially on my own. The last member of my family.
I. Me. Morena Grimaldi.
Fuck, that was depressing. I was single-handedly responsible for the obliteration of my line. A little dramatic? Maybe. But I was already thirty-two with no prospects and my biological clock was not justticking, it wasTICKING, with all the subtlety of a bomb detonator in a Die Hard movie.
Yippee-ki-yay. What can I say? It was the holidays, and I was still a huge fan of that franchise.
Best. Christmas. Movie. Ever.
“Call me when you get there!” Kelsey shouted as I walked down the hall with my rolling suitcase and other bags.
I threw her a wave, having ignored her ten-minute tirade about how I needed a little nooky to get over this latest emotional upset. She had it all wrong. I was not upset about Dale. I was more upset that I hated my job, had no family left to speak of, and was going to spend the holidays alone.
Alone. Fuck. I really was alone. That word stuck in my head, and I frowned the entire way to Kent Township. Three hours of driving listening to Christmas carols had done nothing to improve my mood, either.
Turning into the familiar driveway, I spent ten minutes sitting there, looking at the house, lovingly cared for by Gramps. The sprawling old farmhouse had two levels, and a finished basement. Six bedrooms, four bathrooms, kitchen, and all the usual accommodations. It was lovely and big, if a little worse for wear. I wished I could keep it, but I couldn’t afford to fix what needed fixing or to maintain the five acres of farmland that came with it. Selling was my only option, and I hated that.
I sighed heavily. This was going to be my last Christmas at home. Bolstering my courage, I got out of the car and grabbed my bags, walking up the brick path Gramps laid with his bare hands till I reached the double doors. I ran my hand along the heavy wood door and pressed my forehead against it.
It was time to say goodbye…
CHAPTER TWO- MORENA
Iknew coming back would be difficult. Memories filled me the moment I pulled into the driveway. I pictured my grandmother baking fresh muffins on Christmas morning while she prepped a roast for dinner. Gramps was in charge of the pasta and sauce.
Though the kitchen was big enough for two, Gramps always found a way to bump her with his hip or get tangled in her apron strings. My favorite memories were of the two of them in the kitchen. Granny loved to keep a radio on while she cooked, and when Gramps was there, he’d always take her hand and pull her to him before waltzing her around the room.
Then, after she stopped giggling and told him to let go before the muffins burned, he’d kiss her nose and tell her to be stingy with the frosting. I made a mental note to make a batch of muffins on Christmas morning in their honor. It was the least I could do.
Walking through the place, I made several more notes. Things to pack. Things to give away. Things that broke my heart to think of parting with. That was probably why I wound up opening a bottle of wine to keep me company while I unpacked.
Of course, I had no idea when I started on this sad little adventure that I would wind up staring down the wrong end of a cell phone, which I honestly couldn’t be sure was not currently recording me and my frosty jingle bells in the middle of the night after I had imbibed a little too much of Gramps’ homemade wine. If I had and prescience about any of that, I would have thought twice before I took Gramps’ keys from Mr. O’Malley.
Sigh.
I couldn’t fathom why I’d put on the crotchless and cupless see-through, bright red lace teddy my idiotic best friend, Kelsey, gave me at our annual office gift-giving party. It was no longer called a Christmas party, but a gift giving party so as not to offend anyway, which was cool with me. I mean, I celebrated everything, so whatever floated the boats of those around me was A-okay.
Back to the teddy and the minutes leading up to my current position blinking against the light…
“Kels, this thing is missing a few pieces.”
That was what I said when, shocked, I pulled the scrap of lace from the gift bag back at that party last week. Our other co-workers wolf-whistled and shouted suggestions, but I was red-faced and ready to run.
Kelsey, of course, thought it was a great idea. My beautiful, thin, and relentlessly romantic bestie never understood why I didn’t flaunt my fun bags. The answer was simple. Said fun bags required an industrial strength over the shoulder bolder holder to get me through most days.
“It’s for easy access, Rena. Show them boys what they are missing!”
Now, I love my body, but I was never an exhibitionist. Leggings and loose shirts were my outfit of choice. I’d inherited my Granny’s boobs. Size 38FF on a good day. Sometimes, I had to go FFF, like if I was bloated or hormonal. Anyway, unlikesome Tomb Raider porn star fantasy, my boobs did not come with a doll-sized waist.
I was a big girl. Size sixteen, sometimes eighteen, depending again on my hormones or what I had eaten last. Anyway, the notion of me wearing that thing was just too damn ridiculous, and I had tossed it at Kelsey with a dramatic eye roll which had our drunken co-workers laughing all the louder.
So, that explained why I had the damn thing, but not why it had been in my suitcase. Kelsey, of course. This had her fingerprints all over it. Somehow, knowing I had to leave to take care of Gramps’ estate, she must have tucked the silly, easy access gift of hers into my bag. And yet, even though I scoffed and snorted after I unwrapped the ridiculously small piece of lingerie, I never imagined I’d try the thing on.
