Author's Note: My deepest gratitude to my editor, Janiexx for polishing and refining my story. Her contribution is invaluable and I extend my heartfelt thanks.
"Do you feel guilty?"
I looked at the attractive young woman lying next to me, her question hanging in the air between us.
"Yes...I...ah..." I was having trouble thinking clearly because a pair of beguiling green eyes held me with their intense gaze. After an extended period of self-denial, I had finally revealed my true feelings to her. It was love and there was no denying it. Putting my feelings into words after so long was a tremendous relief.
From well before my wedding day, my heart beat to the tune of a different drummer.
"Mitch will be devastated."
At the mention of my husband her face fell. She adored him and there was no denying the heartache this would cause him.
But images of another loved one crept into the corners of my consciousness.
"Do you think about her often?" she asked, changing the flow of the conversation and effectively reading my mind.
"Yes, of course. I miss her..." Tears of sadness and loss filled my eyes.
My heart ached to see her, talk to her and bask in the glow of her presence.
"She was the dearest friend...I miss her too." My companion's voice reflected her melancholy.
We both stared at the ceiling in total silence. Memories of the woman in my arms and the other who had had a significant impact on my life surfaced. Gradually, I recalled the remarkable years of friendship that I shared with each of them...
A Tale of Two Friends:
The very first time I saw Meaghan, her family was moving in next door. She had a wiry build but was pretty with blonde hair. I was instantly jealous and remembered my mother telling me that we would be in the same grade. With the new school year only a week away, I was dreading meeting her because of my concern that I was overweight.
At the tender age of ten, I had the requisite blonde hair that everyone desired but loathed my heavier body and longed to be thin. My mother kept telling me that I was too young to be on a diet but trips to the mall for clothing were a virtual hell.
"You're just full-bodied Dana," my mother would say to try to relieve my anxiety.
In reality I was only a size or two (depending on the cut of the garment), larger than my friends but it was enough to make me self- conscious. I was usually reduced to tears by the end of the day and my dear mom would do her best to comfort me.
My two older sisters were the lucky recipients of the slim, willowy type of body that all the boys seemed to be attracted to. I was five years younger than Alexis and ten years younger than Samantha. In spite of the fact that they were always kind and considerate towards me, I felt like the black sheep of the family
Like most kids at school, I secretly yearned to be part of the popular crowd until I realized that the girls in that group were thin and pretty. I had about a zero chance of joining.
The day after Meaghan moved in, I was helping my mom in the garden when I heard someone knock on the gate. I turned around and saw who it was and my heart sank.
"Hi! I'm Meaghan," she announced and strolled into the yard.
When Meaghan got closer, I was aware that she was even prettier than I imagined and my body image complex kicked in. I was immediately self-conscious and very shy.
"Hi," I whispered, unable to even look at her.
Meaghan invited me to her house and at first I hesitated but my mother insisted that I go. Clothed in my ill-fitting shorts and tee-shirt, I trudged quietly behind her. In my head, I believed I resembled a little porker and as I gazed at her thin body, I was green with envy.
In her bedroom, the piles of boxes presented a major obstacle so I suggested that I help her organize her belongings. I've always been a neat freak and found pleasure in arranging things in a logical order. For hours we opened boxes and stored her stuff until her mother called her downstairs for dinner.
"Can you stay?" she asked.
It was atypical for me to accept an invitation to eat at my friends houses. On the very rare occasion that I did, I consumed practically nothing so as not to give the impression that I overate. Meaghan's request seemed very sincere, almost pleading and I nodded my head.
Meghan's mother made baked chicken and green beans. To my palate, they were scrumptious and later I learned that low calorie doesn't have to imply no taste. Her little brother, Wyatt, really took a shine to me. At three years old, he was quite a character and asked me to change his diaper.
I relaxed during the meal and Meaghan chatted with an ease of familiarity that was disarming. Later, we returned to her room with her mom in tow and the look of astonishment on her face was worth all the hard work. The woman was speechless when she saw all the progress that we had made.
Meaghan was beaming with pride and put her arm around my shoulder.
"Give Dana the credit, mom. She was a big help."
The praise in her voice was evident.
I've never forgotten that day because it was the first time that anyone outside my family responded so approvingly towards me.
It was evening when I left and my good feelings gradually evaporated when I recognized that once school started, Meaghan, with her good looks and charisma, would settle in with the popular crowd, leaving me behind.
But, until that happened I was a regular fixture at her house. While I had awkward feelings about my body, in Meaghan's presence they diminished. And, for once, I was more comfortable with someone my own age and felt none of the usual fear of rejection.