Big Beautiful Dreamer
ridiculously contented
~BBW/BHM, Romance,Light Sex, ~SWG - a mundane break-up leads to an unexpected and exciting journey
Josh Evans stared moodily out the window and took another swallow of coffee. It was bitter, the bottom of the pot, despite the cream he’d added.
“Time to grow up, pal,” he advised himself aloud. Cathie had been gentle about it, but there was no blunting the meaning of I think we should back off for a while. She had changed her Facebook status to single. Oddly, that remote cyber-gesture had hurt almost as much as the face-to-face dumping.
Josh had to admit that he hadn’t noticeably altered his social habits since graduating -- maybe Cathie was looking for someone who was more of a homebody. She’d mentioned her biological clock more than once in the past year, which Josh had always dismissed as absurd. She was only 26, for crying out loud. How loudly did that clock tick? She … well, never mind. This was a useless line of thought.
He started to sigh, cut it off -- Rick Reynolds at the next desk would be bound to comment -- and returned to the manuscript he was editing.
At lunch, Steve Andrews scanned the menu for a while before settling on a salad with grilled salmon, specifying, “No croutons, no bread.”
“Janice has me doing South Beach,” Steve said ruefully. He slapped his belly. “Says I’m porking up.”
“She doesn’t say it like that, does she?” Josh asked.
“Nah. That’s my interpretation. She says I’m getting a little ‘sofa pillow.’”
Rick choked on his water.
“Sofa pillow. That’s good,” he said when he recovered.
Midway through lunch, Steve gestured with his fork toward Josh’s plate. “Man, finish those fries or let her take your plate. Driving me crazy here.”
“Wassamatter, not hungry?” Pauly Blake asked.
Josh shrugged and picked up a handful of fries. “Cathie dumped me,” he said with his mouth full, then regretted it at once.
“Oh, man,” Pauly said sympathetically. “Ouch.”
“We gotta find you some skirt. Quickly,” Rick said.
“It just happened,” Josh snapped. “Give me a few days to nurse it, man.”
He covered his embarrassment by finishing his lunch quickly and silently. Steve changed the subject to vacation time.
Now that his time wasn't spoken for, however, Josh found himself lingering over their Monday night beers with Rick and Pauly and Evan from advertising, often staying for dinner; and Friday nights were invariably met by a casual invitation from one or the other of them for dinner-and…. A ball game, a buddy flick, something. Sometimes a woman or two was included, but for once Rick behaved with reasonable subtlety.
Josh continued to brood, though. He was surprised at how hard he was taking the breakup. He hadn’t even thought about marriage. Had he? But that didn’t mean he was one of those commitment-phobic guys. Right?
Steve, sticking with the South Beach diet, dropped fifteen pounds that spring. Josh was wrapped up in himself and didn’t notice until the day at lunch that Pauly Blake, playing off Steve’s comments, teased: “Yeah, and Josh found it.”
“Huh?” Josh looked up from his club sandwich.
“Bulkin’ up a little there, pal.” Pauly jerked a thumb in Josh’s direction.
There was a moment’s awkward silence.
“I don’t care who’s got it, I’m not taking it back,” Steve said carefully. “My pants fit for the first time in a year.”
“How come diets are always named for places?” Rick asked. “And why always resorts? Why not the South Jersey diet, or the Yonkers diet, or …”
“I’m on the Buffalo Wings diet,” Evan joked. “And lager. Gotta have grains, right?”
The conversation moved on. That evening, though, Josh reluctantly stripped in front of the bathroom mirror. He turned side to side, grabbed his belly, looked. Had he put on weight? His pants had grown snug almost without his noticing, he guessed, and a look at his belt told him that he’d been fastening it another notch over. He didn’t own a scale. Maybe he would buy one.
That was the week that Pauly brought his sister with him when they went out to Zaxby’s that Friday. The sister was named Eveanna. She was 26 and already had a doctorate from Rutgers in English literature. She was on a tenure track at Bala Cynwyd College in Pennsylvania.
Josh absorbed all this minutiae only subconsciously. For Miss Blake -- Dr. Blake -- had gorgeously developed calves on display under a knee-length cotton skirt that hugged a somewhat padded tummy and correspondingly enticing backside. She had a long waist leading to a proportionately noticeable chest, which was covered in a gauzy, V-necked blouse. Her hands were fine-wristed and long-fingered, and she gestured often and gracefully. Her firm chin doubled from time to time with her movements, and her sculpted cheekbones carried a subtle extra layer. Blue eyes -- no, gray -- no, green -- and fair bobbed hair.
Josh was smitten.
Later he would curse himself for coming across as an illiterate dork, even if he did work for a publishing company, because he did not remember being able to spit out a complete sentence in Eveanna Blake’s company.
As the evening was breaking up, Pauly drew Josh aside. Without a word, he pressed a business card into Josh’s hand. Later, at home, still dazed, Josh would discover that it was his sister’s, with a home e-mail and phone number inked on the back in Pauly’s scrawl.
Josh floated off to sleep, but awoke clouded with doubt. It was too soon to call. No it wasn’t, she might be going home any second now. Carpe the dang diem, already.
She answered her cell phone on the second ring and sounded entirely awake. Yes, she would love to go to a reading and book signing. Anne Lamott, what fun! She hadn’t had a chance to read the new novel yet. Dinner first would be great. They would meet at Bernardo’s.
Josh was lucky that he could speak at all, much less that he could remember her name.
“Dr. … Blake.” He stood and helped her to her seat in the booth.
“Please,” she said, laughing and blushing all at once. “Eveanna.”
“Beautiful name,” Josh said solemnly.
She laughed again, and suddenly Josh could speak. The mists cleared just enough for him to be able to function. They discussed entrée options at some length, and she had settled on a salad when abruptly she looked up.
“You know what? I’ve eaten enough lettuce lately to feed a whole herd of rabbits. I want chicken and potatoes and good hot vegetables, and maybe even dessert afterward.”
Josh nodded decisively.
“So do I.” He grinned at her, and she grinned back.
“I’ve lost ten pounds lately, but I’m making myself starving and miserable,” she confessed.
“Well, stop that,” Josh said. He leaned toward her. “I found your ten pounds, and I’m still having a good dinner.”
He nodded again, then impulsively laid his hand on the table. She took it.
“And dessert,” he added, winking.
“And dessert,” she agreed.
(Continued in post 5 of this thread)
Broken and Whole
by Big Beautiful Dreamer
by Big Beautiful Dreamer
Josh Evans stared moodily out the window and took another swallow of coffee. It was bitter, the bottom of the pot, despite the cream he’d added.
“Time to grow up, pal,” he advised himself aloud. Cathie had been gentle about it, but there was no blunting the meaning of I think we should back off for a while. She had changed her Facebook status to single. Oddly, that remote cyber-gesture had hurt almost as much as the face-to-face dumping.
Josh had to admit that he hadn’t noticeably altered his social habits since graduating -- maybe Cathie was looking for someone who was more of a homebody. She’d mentioned her biological clock more than once in the past year, which Josh had always dismissed as absurd. She was only 26, for crying out loud. How loudly did that clock tick? She … well, never mind. This was a useless line of thought.
He started to sigh, cut it off -- Rick Reynolds at the next desk would be bound to comment -- and returned to the manuscript he was editing.
At lunch, Steve Andrews scanned the menu for a while before settling on a salad with grilled salmon, specifying, “No croutons, no bread.”
“Janice has me doing South Beach,” Steve said ruefully. He slapped his belly. “Says I’m porking up.”
“She doesn’t say it like that, does she?” Josh asked.
“Nah. That’s my interpretation. She says I’m getting a little ‘sofa pillow.’”
Rick choked on his water.
“Sofa pillow. That’s good,” he said when he recovered.
Midway through lunch, Steve gestured with his fork toward Josh’s plate. “Man, finish those fries or let her take your plate. Driving me crazy here.”
“Wassamatter, not hungry?” Pauly Blake asked.
Josh shrugged and picked up a handful of fries. “Cathie dumped me,” he said with his mouth full, then regretted it at once.
“Oh, man,” Pauly said sympathetically. “Ouch.”
“We gotta find you some skirt. Quickly,” Rick said.
“It just happened,” Josh snapped. “Give me a few days to nurse it, man.”
He covered his embarrassment by finishing his lunch quickly and silently. Steve changed the subject to vacation time.
Now that his time wasn't spoken for, however, Josh found himself lingering over their Monday night beers with Rick and Pauly and Evan from advertising, often staying for dinner; and Friday nights were invariably met by a casual invitation from one or the other of them for dinner-and…. A ball game, a buddy flick, something. Sometimes a woman or two was included, but for once Rick behaved with reasonable subtlety.
Josh continued to brood, though. He was surprised at how hard he was taking the breakup. He hadn’t even thought about marriage. Had he? But that didn’t mean he was one of those commitment-phobic guys. Right?
Steve, sticking with the South Beach diet, dropped fifteen pounds that spring. Josh was wrapped up in himself and didn’t notice until the day at lunch that Pauly Blake, playing off Steve’s comments, teased: “Yeah, and Josh found it.”
“Huh?” Josh looked up from his club sandwich.
“Bulkin’ up a little there, pal.” Pauly jerked a thumb in Josh’s direction.
There was a moment’s awkward silence.
“I don’t care who’s got it, I’m not taking it back,” Steve said carefully. “My pants fit for the first time in a year.”
“How come diets are always named for places?” Rick asked. “And why always resorts? Why not the South Jersey diet, or the Yonkers diet, or …”
“I’m on the Buffalo Wings diet,” Evan joked. “And lager. Gotta have grains, right?”
The conversation moved on. That evening, though, Josh reluctantly stripped in front of the bathroom mirror. He turned side to side, grabbed his belly, looked. Had he put on weight? His pants had grown snug almost without his noticing, he guessed, and a look at his belt told him that he’d been fastening it another notch over. He didn’t own a scale. Maybe he would buy one.
That was the week that Pauly brought his sister with him when they went out to Zaxby’s that Friday. The sister was named Eveanna. She was 26 and already had a doctorate from Rutgers in English literature. She was on a tenure track at Bala Cynwyd College in Pennsylvania.
Josh absorbed all this minutiae only subconsciously. For Miss Blake -- Dr. Blake -- had gorgeously developed calves on display under a knee-length cotton skirt that hugged a somewhat padded tummy and correspondingly enticing backside. She had a long waist leading to a proportionately noticeable chest, which was covered in a gauzy, V-necked blouse. Her hands were fine-wristed and long-fingered, and she gestured often and gracefully. Her firm chin doubled from time to time with her movements, and her sculpted cheekbones carried a subtle extra layer. Blue eyes -- no, gray -- no, green -- and fair bobbed hair.
Josh was smitten.
Later he would curse himself for coming across as an illiterate dork, even if he did work for a publishing company, because he did not remember being able to spit out a complete sentence in Eveanna Blake’s company.
As the evening was breaking up, Pauly drew Josh aside. Without a word, he pressed a business card into Josh’s hand. Later, at home, still dazed, Josh would discover that it was his sister’s, with a home e-mail and phone number inked on the back in Pauly’s scrawl.
Josh floated off to sleep, but awoke clouded with doubt. It was too soon to call. No it wasn’t, she might be going home any second now. Carpe the dang diem, already.
She answered her cell phone on the second ring and sounded entirely awake. Yes, she would love to go to a reading and book signing. Anne Lamott, what fun! She hadn’t had a chance to read the new novel yet. Dinner first would be great. They would meet at Bernardo’s.
Josh was lucky that he could speak at all, much less that he could remember her name.
“Dr. … Blake.” He stood and helped her to her seat in the booth.
“Please,” she said, laughing and blushing all at once. “Eveanna.”
“Beautiful name,” Josh said solemnly.
She laughed again, and suddenly Josh could speak. The mists cleared just enough for him to be able to function. They discussed entrée options at some length, and she had settled on a salad when abruptly she looked up.
“You know what? I’ve eaten enough lettuce lately to feed a whole herd of rabbits. I want chicken and potatoes and good hot vegetables, and maybe even dessert afterward.”
Josh nodded decisively.
“So do I.” He grinned at her, and she grinned back.
“I’ve lost ten pounds lately, but I’m making myself starving and miserable,” she confessed.
“Well, stop that,” Josh said. He leaned toward her. “I found your ten pounds, and I’m still having a good dinner.”
He nodded again, then impulsively laid his hand on the table. She took it.
“And dessert,” he added, winking.
“And dessert,” she agreed.
(Continued in post 5 of this thread)
