Molly & Marilyn & Me Ch. 01

"Hi ... Marilyn ... it's me ... Tory," I began uncertainly.

"Hi Tory. What's up?" she asked brightly.

"Uhhhmmm ... I was wondering ... would you mind if I came over? I'd like to talk to you," I stammered.

"Uh ... sure ... when?"

"How about now ... I mean ... in a few minutes?"

"OK," she said carefully. "Tory ... is there something wrong?"

"No ... nothing wrong. I mean ... not that way. I just needed to talk to you about ... something," I evaded.

"OK ... I'll see you soon," she said vaguely.

I was there in ten minutes and she answered the door almost immediately.

"Hi ... come on in," she said, a worried look on her face.

I nodded and walked into the small living room. I hadn't been in her apartment before and I looked around with interest. Neat, tidy, conventional furniture and decorations. A bookshelf with what looked like some family pictures and a couple of traditional landscape prints on the wall. Nothing remarkable at all and yet it looked very nice.

"Can I get you something ... coffee or tea? I'm sorry, I don't have any beer or wine," she apologized.

"No ... nothing, thanks," I said as I sat on the sofa across from her. She chose a wing chair and was watching me intently, that worried look still with her.

"Marilyn, the reason I wanted to talk to you was because I can sense your frustration. I know you are upset that you don't think you are making progress. You couldn't be more wrong," I paused, taking a breath.

"You have made a complete change to your body and your lifestyle in just a few months. You have become a very beautiful and desirable woman and you should be proud of what you have accomplished. You are fit and healthy and I think you have the personal strength to make sure you live your life this way for a long, long time. Please don't be unhappy or discouraged because you don't make some target weight that you have set for yourself," I paused again.

She was watching me, her face now neutral. She was listening, but not making any response, verbal or physical. I pushed on.

"You are never going to weigh as little as Molly unless you starve yourself into an unhealthy state. It's not in your genetic makeup to be skinny. Your bone structure is larger than hers and as a consequence, you will always be bigger than her. Just like lots of guys are bigger than me. I don't want you beating yourself up about something that you can't achieve," I concluded.

I waited for her reaction. At last, she looked at me with a sad smile and nodded.

"I know. I just didn't want to admit it. I'm never going to be as beautiful as Molly," she said quietly.

"No ... stop that ... stop it right now!" I snapped. I sat there for a minute with I'm sure what must have been a red face. I was angry ... no ... frustrated with her. She couldn't see what was as plain as the nose on her face.

"I don't want to hear you talk like that. You are a very beautiful woman. You are not Molly. You are Marilyn. You can't be Molly. You need to be Marilyn. I'm not interested in Molly, I'm interested in Marilyn," I blurted in a moment of irritation.

She looked up in astonishment. My inadvertent confession caught both of us by surprise.

"What do you mean ... interested?" she asked warily.

"Just what it sounds like," I sighed. "I suppose it's been growing on me since that first day we met. I found you fascinating then and nothing's changed. You may not believe this, but you are a very beautiful, sexy, exotic woman. That's how I see you. That's how I think of you.

"When this ... program of ours is over in a few weeks, I want to ask you out on a proper date. I want to get to know you even better than I do now." I waited for her reaction.

"But why me?" she asked again.

"I don't know how to make this any plainer. I'm attracted to you, Marilyn Lee. You are beautiful, inside and out. You are someone I think I could spend a lot of time with and be very happy," I said evenly.

The look on her face was priceless. Shock first, then bewilderment, then, slowly, a faint smile. Risk taken, reward gained.

I got up and made the three paces to her side, squatted down and took her hands in mine.

"I'd like to find out if we can make that happen," I said quietly.

She nodded. I leaned forward and kissed her, a gentle brush with my lips across hers. She responded with a more forceful kiss that lingered.

We talked. We talked about our likes and dislikes and our backgrounds and we laughed. We were together on the sofa with her hand in mine. She knew all along that her target was unrealistic, but she was so committed to our plan that she thought it might be possible. When she could see that it wasn't and that she would have to live with who she was, she reacted.

She also confessed that she harbored a case of hero-worship when it came to me. In her eyes, I did it all, and all she needed to do was follow orders. She was convinced that only I made all this happen. As much as I would have liked to believe that, we both knew that it wasn't true. Her commitment and effort made it all possible.

She wanted me to acknowledge her in some way that she couldn't articulate. I reminded her of my promise of "hands off." Naturally, I said nothing about my one indiscretion with Molly. I told her what I was planning to buy the two of them for their "graduation presents." The tiniest bikinis I could find.

By the time she was over her laughing fit, she looked at me with wide eyes.

"You wouldn't?"

"You bet I would. On top of that, I would insist you wear them in public and I would take pictures of the both of you for my trophy case," I threatened.

"Never!" she shrieked.

"Oh yes. You can't deny me my pleasure now. After all I've sacrificed for you two, I expect a return on my investment," I insisted.

"I couldn't ... I'd be so embarrassed. I could never ...," she said, wide-eyed.

"We'll see. I bet Molly goes for it," I taunted.

"That's different, she's skinnier," she pouted.

"Yeah ... but you're better looking ... more voluptuous," I countered.

"What's that mean?"

"Better curves in better places."

"Molly told me that you were interested in me," she whispered after a silent moment.

"Yeah. She told me about you too."

"I'm glad she did. Do you think we would have gotten together if she hadn't?"

"Yup. The minute the program was over I'd have been banging on your door looking for a date," I grinned.

"I'd have said yes ... but what kept you?" she laughed.

"Good question ... except ... I made you girls a promise. No hanky-panky. Remember?"

"What do think will happen when Molly finds out?" she asked.

"I think Molly will be happy for us."

She looked up at me again. "Why are you so sure about that?"

"Because she's the one who saw what was going on between us even before we did," I explained.

"Yeah ... she did, didn't she," Marilyn smiled.

"Were you serious about the bikini thing?"

"Absolutely. If you're that uncomfortable with it, you can model it for me in private before you go public," I offered.

She was watching me to see if I was really serious about this. She guessed I was.

"Why are you so set on it?" she asked at length.

"Because you have something to prove to yourself. You still aren't convinced that I'm honest about your body being beautiful. The only way I can convince you is to let other people see you the way I see you."

I wasn't about to give up on this part of my plan. She needed to have a sense of her own self-worth. To do that, she needed to know just what others thought. Other people who didn't know her or have a vested interest in her.

"Marilyn, a few years ago I was in Cuba on vacation. I was on a white sand beach surrounded by beautiful women, almost all of them wearing bikinis. It was sensory overload. All I could do was sit and watch this endless parade of gorgeous women stroll by. But the woman who caught my eye wasn't like the others.

"She was older, late-thirties, maybe forty. She had the same jet-black hair, the same exotic eyes, maybe a slightly darker complexion than you. But she was built just like you. Maybe her breasts weren't as large, but the rest of her body was almost a carbon copy of yours. I took her picture when she wasn't watching and I've kept it. Don't ask me why. Maybe I thought she was my 'ideal woman,' I don't know.

"I still have it. I brought it with me tonight. I hoped you could see in her what I see in you."

I pulled the photo from my shirt pocket and handed it too her. I watched her carefully as she looked at it. I saw her eyes grow wide in surprise. She looked up at me and then back at the picture.

"She's beautiful," she gasped. "The bikini ... it's so tiny ... she's almost naked." She paused as she studied the photo. She looked back at me.

"You think this is how I look?" she asked, seeking confirmation.

I nodded and smiled.

"I can see she's not skinny like the others," Marilyn admitted. The picture showed several other women in the background, all of them bikini-clad.

"She one hundred percent all female, Marilyn. Just like you," I asserted.

"I could never wear anything like that. I'd die of shame," she moaned, shaking her head.

"Not even in private ... just for me?" I asked quietly.

She looked back up at me. I couldn't read her thoughts. Her face was a mask.

"I don't know," she said at last.

"Keep the photo, Marilyn. I don't need it anymore. I have my ideal woman right here in front of me ... in 3D," I smiled.

She blushed.

I felt I'd put quite enough pressure on her for one evening. I rose to leave.

"I'll see you tomorrow evening," I said as I kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Goodnight."

-0-

We resumed our new schedule for the final four weeks and I saw a noticeable improvement in Marilyn's attitude. She didn't seem to be obsessing about her progress and was more upbeat and smiling more as well. It took the pressure off me and I could enjoy this final month as the girls neared the end of the program.

It was designed to last eight months, each month a phase with a purpose. Surprisingly, I didn't have to alter the timetable to suit either of the girls. They were pretty much on the same progress schedule. That was a bit of good luck rather than good management. We decided to have a party to celebrate their "graduation" and we agreed we would have it on Saturday afternoon after our final session. It would be held at the Pickled Pumpkin, of course. After all, that's where it all began.

I found some artificial parchment paper and printed up a pair of "Certificates of Merit" on my computer and laser printer, using some fancy fonts. They looked great after some trial and error on regular paper.

I contacted a friend who drove limo on a part-time basis and we made arrangements for him to pick up me and the girls and bring us to the Pumpkin. I didn't want them driving that day. We were going to celebrate. I said nothing to the girls other than we would have our usual lunch on Saturday to celebrate their graduation.

I told the girls that since we might have a second glass of wine to celebrate, I would be picking them up at their place to take them to the pub. What they didn't expect was to find me in a long black limousine waiting for them. Molly squealed in delight and Marilyn just went wide-eyed when the two of us showed up at her door. There were good vibes about that day.

We arrived at the Pumpkin and I thanked my friend, Pete, for the limo service. I had reserved our usual table, just to make sure someone else didn't get there ahead of us. My girls were quite taken aback at all the fuss that was made over them. Charlie, the manager, and all his girls came by to congratulate my two and they were beaming. Wine was poured. A glass of sparkling white wine served as our champagne. The serving staff all gathered in a circle around the table and began to sing a song of congratulations, clapping their hands and dancing about. What they lacked in musical talent, they made up in enthusiasm.

Next, Charlie, using the house microphone, announced that Molly and Marilyn were celebrating their graduation from their special fitness class and while not mentioning the number of pounds they lost, made it clear that they had accomplished a major victory. They got a loud round of applause from the patrons at that point.

Molly was reveling in the limelight, but as expected, Marilyn was a bit embarrassed. I wasn't surprised, but I also knew she wasn't upset. She was just as proud of her success as Molly.

When things quieted down, lunch arrived. I ordered for the girls, knowing they might not want to indulge themselves if I didn't take charge. I ordered five plates of appetizers. More food than we could or should eat, but what the hell, we were celebrating.

We did a pretty good job of demolishing the food, but there was some left that we just couldn't manage. Molly complained that not only did her outer body shrink but her stomach as well. There was a lot of laughter at the table that noon. A number of the regular patrons who witnessed the progress of the girls over the past months stopped by to offer their congratulations. I felt very good about that.

When the girls got up to go to the washroom, it gave me a chance to gather my gifts and the certificates. I switched to my favorite dark ale and I was just getting started on my first pint when the girls returned. I stashed the surprises under the table out of sight. I pulled out the two "diplomas" and passed one to Marilyn and then Molly. I was standing and I congratulated them on their dedication and their accomplishment. I guess some of the patrons heard me and they applauded as I gave the girls their certificates.

They untied the ribbon and unrolled them. They both smiled as they read them and then Molly held hers up for the surrounding audience to see. Molly came around and gave me a big kiss and a thank you. Marilyn soon followed suit.

After they were seated again, I pulled out the two packages. I knew which one was which, and I handed the yellow package to Molly and the red one to Marilyn. Molly quickly opened her gift and with a whoop of excitement, held up a very small, yellow bikini for everyone to see. There was a card inside and she opened it a read it aloud.

"Now I know why blondes have more fun, signed love and best wishes, Tory," she read. "Oh, Tory. I love it. Thank you for this. Thank you for everything," she said, her eyes glistening.

Marilyn was absently picking at the wrapping on her package, now sensing what was inside. Of course, it was another bikini. This one red. Just like the red in the photograph I gave her. Just like the red in her complexion when she saw it. She took out the card and opened it.

"Be brave, it's all in fun," I said quietly to her.

"Imagine yourself on a sun-drenched sandy beach, signed love and admiration, Tory," she read.

Marilyn looked at me and forced a smile. She leaned over and hugged me.

"Thank you, Tory. I couldn't have done it without you," she said, smiling through a few tears.

After a while, we started to talk about what comes next. We were different people from the three who embarked on this venture eight months earlier. That included me as well. I got an immense feeling of satisfaction from what the girls accomplished. I began to understand what teachers and other mentors got in return for their efforts. I did this for free and yet I felt I was rewarded more than I could have expected.

Both the girls planned to look for new jobs, primarily because they were no longer "plus size" and that was what their current job featured. Molly talked about going to night school and getting a certificate to allow her to act as a fitness trainer. I thought that was a hell of an idea.

Marilyn in typical fashion, hadn't decided, and was keeping her thoughts private at that point. She wasn't enthusiastic about any one particular thing, but was interested in my work and what it was about. She toyed with the idea of interior design work years ago, but that was shelved when practical considerations of rent and food became paramount.

Just before four that afternoon, I asked one of the servers to call a cab for us. We dropped Molly off first. She was still on a high, giggling and having fun. I was happy for her and I know Marilyn was too.

As we rode toward Marilyn's apartment, I leaned toward her.

"Are you too tired for company?" I asked.

"Maybe later?" she replied.

"About eight. That will give you some time to rest. Don't say yes if you aren't up to it," I said.

"Eight sounds fine. I'll see you then," she smiled.

When I got home I peeled off my clothes and flopped on my bed. I closed my eyes and before I knew it, I was asleep. I awoke just before seven. Luckily, I didn't have a lot to drink, so I was OK. I stripped my shorts and socks off and headed for the shower. It was the refresher I needed.

Just before eight I left the house and drove to Marilyn's apartment. I was wondering what to expect. I was a bit nervous about where our relationship might go now that we were finished with the fitness program.

She knew I was interested in her. The question was, did she feel anything for me? And then there was the challenge of convincing her of how others saw her. It wasn't just me with rose-colored glasses. A number of people mentioned how attractive she was that afternoon. The young guys all had their tongues hanging out for Molly. But a number of them were stealing looks at Marilyn and likely wondering if there was a chance. Not if I had anything to do with it.

I hardly finished knocking when the door opened. Marilyn stood there wearing the clothes she wore that afternoon. She filled that dress out magnificently. She was smiling and welcomed me in. Her hair was combed back and she was wearing that eye makeup that caught my attention the very first time I saw her. She was also barefoot.

"Did I tell you how good you look," I smiled.

"Thanks. It's been a special day. I didn't want it to end," she sighed.

I turned to her and moved toward her with my arms outstretched. She slipped inside them and we kissed. It wasn't a long, passionate kiss. It was light and ... careful.

"You have the most beautiful eyes," I said softly.

"A gift from my grandfather," she responded.

"It's a wonderful gift. The eyes, the hair, the lovely coloring of your skin. I'll have to thank your grandfather some day."

"I have some wine. Would you like some?"

"Yes ... please. That would be nice."

I followed her swaying hips into the kitchen as she took a bottle of red from the counter. It was already open and a half-full glass sat on the counter nearby.

"I had to test it," she said. "It might have turned to vinegar." She was nervous. I wasn't sure why.

We returned to the living room and sat beside each other on the sofa. I was just about to say something when Marilyn turned to me.

"Tory, you know how much I appreciate what you've done for me. I know you don't want to take the credit, but I know I wouldn't have succeeded without your help. I'll always be very grateful for that."

Uh oh ... this sounded very much like a prelude to a brush-off. My gut tightened as I waited for the "but."

"Molly and I have been looking for new jobs, as you know. Well, earlier this week I got a phone call. It was from an agency that represents a big retail chain store. They are looking for people to model their clothes for catalogue and flyer photos. I applied to them a month ago and sent them some pictures Molly took of me.

"They've accepted my application and they want to interview me. I'll be meeting with them next week." She seemed to be telling me this very carefully for some reason.

"That's wonderful, Marilyn. I told you all along that others would see how beautiful you were," I said with genuine enthusiasm.