Chapter 3

Caitlyn

"Your bloodwork mostly looks normal." Dr. Sharpe, supposedly the best in the women's health business, sat across from Caitlyn after she finished getting poked and prodded during her annual exam. "Your good cholesterol is lower than I like to see. Do you do much weightlifting?"

"When I can remember," Caitlyn said.

"Consider lifting some five-pound dumbbells while you're watching TV in the evening. Which segues us into the next thing I wanted to mention…" Dr. Sharpe sighed, pushing back on his stool while looking up from his clipboard. I don't like that look on his face. While Dr. Sharpe was good at pinpointing problems in many of Caitlyn's friends, thus far, he had come short of satisfying her quest for answers to certain digestive issues that had plagued her for the past year. "You've gained a total of ten pounds since your last complete physical a year ago. We talked about you losing ten pounds over the year. Ms. Adams, as much as I hate to say this, but your BMI has risen to…"

Caitlyn cut him off. Partly from a defense mechanism, partly from her inability to control her mouth when someone called her fat. "I'm aware that I've gained a few pounds. I would think it's inevitable after you enter your late thirties. Or may I remind you that I'm about forty?"

"Of course, it's natural to gain some weight as you get older, but we must be careful to not gain too much, Ms. Adams."

No, not too much. Never too much. Caitlyn had been forced to think about her weight her entire life, starting from her "stocky child" days when she had clear memories of the family doctor asking her mother how she cooked at home. My siblings came out looking like my dad. Thinner and more muscular. Caitlyn completely took after her mother Christine when it came to her curvy figure. She had slightly wider shoulders than average and hip bones that – as Jane liked to put it – "never quit." As a teen girl in the late ‘90s and early 2000s, Caitlyn wasn't allowed to forget that she had a big ass prime for childish jokes and a chest size that riled up the school administration if she even thought about wearing something besides a regular T-shirt or, even better, a hoodie. It wasn't until a friend of her mom introduced them to the pageant circuit that Caitlyn found a way to celebrate her body.

So, here they went again.

"Since your blood panel came back normal and I've sensed nothing else off about your health," Dr. Sharpe continued as if Caitlyn wasn't shooting daggers into the back of his head, "my prescription is good old fashioned diet and exercise. The front office has lots of great info on nutritionists and dietitians in the area."

"I'm sure they do." Caitlyn crossed her arms over her chest. "I will… take a look at what I can change in my daily diet."

That was the only way to get Dr. Sharpe off her waistline. When he left the exam room, firmly closing the door behind him, Caitlyn was allowed to rip off the paper gown and put her clothes back on. She had dressed to be appropriate for the office while also having something easy to take on and off at the doctor's, but she was supposed to take Cecelia shopping for school. Which was why Rebecca was out in the waiting room, earbuds in and book in her hand.

Dr. Sharpe wouldn't say she needs to lose a few pounds… Caitlyn had a feeling he wouldn't say she should gain any either, even though Caitlyn knew for a fact that Becca was only a few pounds over "underweight" territory according to that blasted BMI scale.

"How'd it go?" Rebecca asked as she packed up her book and followed Caitlyn toward the elevator out in the hallway. "You don't look too stoked."

Caitlyn waited until they were alone with the muzak in the elevator to say, "Everything looked great but my weight. Nothing like your doctor calling you fat during your exam."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

Caitlyn leaned against the wall. "Whatever. He's not the first doctor to be ‘concerned' about my weight, and he won't be the last."

"That's so weird, though. I thought a lot of offices were moving away from talking about weight unless the patient brings it up? Or if it's like a huge increase or drop in a short time?"

"He's also old. Ugh. And I let him poke around my cervix. Just my luck."

"I think you should change doctors." The doors dinged open as they reached the lobby of the quiet high-rise full of medical and lawyer offices. "Mine hasn't been bad at all. She was even the one who decided I should have that mole looked at last year."

"Which, thankfully, turned out to be nothing."

They walked across the street, where Cecelia was waiting for them in a bookstore. She had gotten her brand-new iPhone with both American and worldwide connectivity, so the family felt better about giving her some independence to shop when only a text or call away.

At first, though, they couldn't find her. Caitlyn didn't panic. The chain bookstore was big enough to have its own Starbucks and a dedicated story time room for children. She and Rebecca split up to look down each aisle, starting on opposite sides of the store to ensure they didn't accidentally bypass Cecelia if she was hunched down reading a book or going from one genre to another. She had received her first allowance from her family and had asked to go to the bookstore, so she wouldn't wander away, right?

Caitlyn wasn't sure. But I'm not going to panic. There's no point.

She eventually did find her niece, but not in the most likely place.

"Personally, I think the third book is the hottest." Cecelia nearly leaped out of her skin when Caitlyn interrupted her fervent reading of a steamy romance novel back in the erotica section. "But it doesn't make a lot of sense unless you read book two. Anyway…" She politely waited for Cecelia to shove the book back onto the shelf and stay turned away, doubtlessly cooked to the cheeks in red embarrassment. "I suggest you get your naughty romance fix via eBook. That way none of us gets in trouble."

Cecelia whispered something in Cantonese. At least Caitlyn knew enough to know it wasn't directed at her.

"Come on. I'll get you whatever you've got in your basket. Then we have a date at the mall to get your notebooks and bags and whatever."

She didn't mean to be cranky as she showed Cecelia what it was like to go back to school shopping in the land of $1 notebooks and $100 graphing calculators, but she was still sore about Dr. Sharpe's comments. I need a female doctor. That's what I need. Yet Caitlyn knew that wouldn't solve any of her problems. She had been through an assortment of doctors her entire life. When she lived in Hong Kong, she went to a British doctor who better understood a body like hers, but it still wasn't enough. We lived in Hong Kong, therefore I had to lose weight. Caitlyn had spent the past few years not thinking about her weight. She gauged such things based on the number on her clothing tags, not the number on the scale she never checked. I may have gained ten pounds, but I still fit into my clothing fine!

Everything felt like a farce if she thought about it hard enough.

Caitlyn didn't tell Rebecca where she found Cecelia. Even if she was the tattling type, it made no sense to betray Cecelia's trust so early in their relationship. I need her to like me. At least for a while. Unlike her wife, Caitlyn knew a thing or two about relating to teens. She had a few of them on her side of the family.

She let Rebecca do the driving to the mall. Do I text Jane about this? No, not what her niece had been reading in the bookstore. What the damn doctor said. Sighing, Caitlyn decided to let it slide until later. Rebecca would better understand but now was not the time.

Now was the time to peruse the biggest mall in town, which happened to have a Bullseye department store as one of its anchors. Both Caitlyn and Rebecca were drawn to the deep discounts at that time of year, but this was a Hong Kong heiress they were talking about. She wants the cute stuff. Such was what led them to the mall, with its Asian goods shops, stationery stores, and other expensive imports that thought "10% off" was a big draw at that time of year. Sure enough, Cecelia wanted the notebooks and binders that cost more than anything Caitlyn ever had for college, let alone high school.

Oh, well. What was the point of being rich if she couldn't spoil a kid, especially one going to a fussy private school full of other rich kids? Caitlyn – and Rebecca – understood how important it was to help Cecelia fit in. She had the phone and some clothes, but what was trendy that year in notebooks and pencils? Did it matter?

"Oh, my God." Bags jiggling at her side, Cecelia stopped in front of a store window, chin dropped and eyes wide. "Kate Spade!"

Caitlyn motioned for Rebecca to stop with them. "Lots of paisley this year…"

"Can we go in?" Cecelia asked. "Just to look. I love Kate Spade."

Yes, Caitlyn had noticed the shoes, keychains, and bracelets adorning Cecelia's fashionable frame. "Sure. It's been a while since I was bombarded with the hot looks of my adolescence."

Rebecca grinned at her as they entered, a shopkeeper immediately on top of them. "You were big into Kate Spade in high school, were you?"

"Oh, she was all the rage in the early 2000s. Her and Vivienne Westwood, depending on which way you swung with your style."

"How many of her bags did you have?"

"Two." Caitlyn let Cecelia loose in the store, already aware that her credit card was about to get a workout. "One I bought myself using some of my beauty pageant prize money, and one my parents got me for my eighteenth birthday. Man, that was a big day…"

"I never had stuff like this back then." Rebecca picked up a light blue bag that wasn't her style, but Caitlyn liked the way it looked on her arm. "I barely knew it existed. The biggest styles in my high school were what you could get at Dalmart or, if you had a bit of middle-class money, Macy's."

"Oh, yeah, I remember the big back-to-school sales at Macy's. Hey, does this mall have a Macy's?"

"Used to. Not anymore."

While Cecelia talked the ears off the shopkeepers, Caitlyn and Rebecca eyed a paisley peplum dress hanging on a mannequin in the middle of the store.

"You'd look great in that, you know," Rebecca whispered to her partner.

"If I could fit in it…"

"Not only do they have one in your size – I guarantee it – but it would be absolutely ravishing on your figure."

"Are you flirting with me in a Kate Spade store, Becca?"

"Duh."

"Hmph. And do you fancy this dress too? Should we get matching ones?"

"Come on." She pointed to the dress behind Caitlyn. "You know I'm more a shift dress girl. I've got a long torso."

"What a wonderful torso it is."

Rebecca couldn't stifle her laughter. "Are you flirting with me in a Kate Spade store?"

"Duh."

While this wasn't the happiest Caitlyn had ever been, she couldn't deny the healing powers of some retail therapy. Especially if a new dress made her feel more comfortable in her skin.

"What absolute bollocks," Jane said in her home office that evening. She had spent most of the day locked up in this room catching up on her work, and it wasn't until Caitlyn and everyone else returned that she came up for air. While Rebecca prepared dinner and Cecelia holed herself up in her room, Caitlyn snuck into her wife's office and told her what happened in the doctor's office. "There's not a pound wasted on you, love. But you know I love to get lost in those curves of yours."

Caitlyn sat on the leather loveseat by the wall. "It's not only about how I look. You've only ever known a Caitlyn Adams who is at home in her own body." She sighed. "It's the perception of how it affects my health. There is some truth to it, you know. But my blood panels came back fine and I don't have any outstanding health issues besides my sudden sensitivity to cheese, God help me."

"You know how those doctors are, Cait." Jane shut down her computer and rolled her chair toward the end of her desk. "They have got to say something to you, otherwise they are afraid you think you are getting a bad deal. Especially here in America! Everything is so bloody expensive in healthcare that they want you to think you are getting your quid's worth."

Caitlyn still didn't know how much a quid was, and she didn't care. "What a waste of time," she muttered. "I've been wanting to get a new doctor, anyway. I guess this is my chance."

"Cait." Jane slumped onto the cushion next to her wife. "You know I think you are the hottest woman to grace this earth with her buxom breasts and thighs of thunderous steel, right?"

"Not helping, Lin."

"Well! Doesn't matter. I think it's true. Therefore, it is."

"Thanks." Caitlyn leaned in toward her. "I appreciate it."

Jane patted her wife's "thunderous" thigh. "No problem, love. That is what your old Jane is here for. That and adding the pitter-patter of teenage feet here in the flat."

Should I tell her about Cecelia reading a dirty novel in the bookstore? No, probably not. While Jane wouldn't freak out, Caitlyn didn't want her saying something that might reveal Caitlyn had tattled. "Cecelia's a nice kid. I'm sure it will be fine, no matter what happens."

"You mean if she runs back screaming to Hong Kong or decides to live with us forever?"

"I get the feeling she didn't get a lot of attention back with your Lilian and Frank."

"Oh, no, absolutely not. All the attention she got was from her grandmothers, and I do not wish that on any kid with a Hong Kong last name. Even my grandmothers knew to not bother with me when I was out raising hell with other girls."

"Raising hell? Where did you hear a phrase like that?" It wasn't exactly Cambridge-approved, after all.

"Your family."

"Ah, yes."

Jane got back up. "If you would like, I can prove to you later tonight how beautiful I think you are."

To that, Caitlyn could only roll her eyes as if she were being flirted with in a Kate Spade yet again. "So sweet of you, Lin."

"I'll even sacrifice my life to lose my breath between those thighs."

"And you'll want nothing in return, I'm sure."

"Oh, I am going to ride those thighs next."

"Let's have dinner first, huh?"

Caitlyn returned to her room, where Rebecca had moved a few things that didn't fit in Jane's. While Caitlyn had made as much room as possible in her closet for some of her girlfriend's work clothes, it was a reminder that they were supposed to be looking for a new place to live. Who has time for that? Wasn't that why Caitlyn hired a realtor to help their quest? So why were they still struggling, damnit?

She checked her email to see if there were any updates. As she let her inbox load, she stripped off her T-shirt dress and changed into a regular shirt and shorts.

There wasn't anything from her realtor. There was, however, a notification to check her voicemail.

"Hey, Caitlyn!" Good God, was that who Caitlyn thought it was? "It's me, Izzy. I know we haven't talked much since before the pandemic, but something came across my desk today that I thought you might be interested in. I'm sure you're familiar with the Mrs. United States of America Pageant? Yes, of course you are. So, the contestant who was originally representing Iowa was disqualified, because everyone from the Iowan delegation was disqualified due to internal bribes. Oh, it's been a whole thing! Anyway, Mrs. America asked if I knew anyone who could step in as a competent Mrs. Iowa at the last minute since the competition is in November, and I naturally thought of you since you recently got remarried, right? Oh, how is Jane doing? Great! Call me back if you're interested. You have my number. Kisses!"

Caitlyn was speechless. "Izzy," she finally uttered. "Izzy!" She hadn't heard from her old pageant coach in years. Not since Caitlyn retired from the pageant circuit and eventually faded away from sponsorships as well. These days, the most she got involved was by cutting checks to help rural girls in the Midwest achieve their pageant dreams and occasionally judging local teen contests. But she barely had time for that anymore, either…

Any other year Caitlyn would immediately tell her old coach no. That day, though? The day her doctor called her fat?

Well, she was still mature enough to not make any hasty decisions. At least she had that.