The Fat Woman Mystery

By Sandra Noble

Margaret Henze O'Brian lives in a small Iowa town in a big old house with her cat Ruby. She considers herself half German and half Conehead. German because that's her heritage, and Conehead because of her mass consumption of calories.
The Fit Girls, Margaret's diet support group, think her recent weight gain is the result of depression, over her husband's death, but Margaret says they're wrong, she's fine, "just fine, thank you."
Margaret has more than her diet to think of when she stumbles over a body, and a friend is accused of murder. In trying to clear her friend of the crime, Margaret finds she has more on her plate than rice cakes.
Not wanting to be left out of the excitement, the Fit Girls join Margaret in her attempt to solve the crime, and are soon knee deep in small town scandal, gossip and mystery.
Creeping through corn fields, window peeking, and tailing suspects may be more than the average reader of Modern Maturity magazine deeps proper, but Margaret finds it exhilarating. And when two handsome men seem interested in her ample body life is suddenly fascinating.
Now, if only Margaret can stay alive long enough to enjoy this new lease on life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sandra Noble
• Release date: Mar 2, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310409066

Sandra Noble

Sandra Noble lives in Iowa with her cat, Beulah. She has also lived in Alaska, Washington, and Colorado, and feels each of these states are great places to live, and have special assets.Sandra has many interests that include spending time with her children and grandchildren, writing, making Victorian lamp shades, and of course, reading a good book.She has an over developed love of food, and meets with her diet support group weekly (the real 'Fit Girls'). Currently, Sandra has fallen off the wagon and as a result, has gained unwanted pounds.

Book preview

The Fat Woman Mystery

By

Sandra Noble

Smashwords Edition

© 2014 Sandra Noble

This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and situations within its pages and places or persons, living or dead, is unintentional and co-incidental.

For Judi, Joan, and Janelle.

Thanks to Chad, Travis, Corrie, Lance, Brandy, Nicole, Joe, Frank, and Sherian for their encouragement, interest, and enthusiasm for this novel.  And to

Kathy Z, Nicole and Lee for their proofreading skills.

Chapter One

Two hundred and eight pounds.

I stepped off the scales, waited for the numbers to roll back to zero, then stepped back on.

Two hundred and eight pounds.

Of course it wasn’t really two hundred and eight pounds because it was nearly five in the afternoon. It’d been a busy day and I hadn’t weighed this morning. Every fat woman knows the only time to weigh is first thing in the morning, naked, after you use the bathroom and before breakfast. By now I’d gained water weight and there was a day's worth of food stored in my body. I could subtract at least two pounds. Two hundred and six was my true weight.

Still, I was up a pound and the 'Fit Girl's' would arrive at seven.

I brushed my teeth while I pondered the weight gain. The dreaded menopause was messing with my metabolism, making my waist thicker than ever. Okay, maybe a few too many French fries and late night snacks were a contributing factor, but when the hot flashes wake you at two in the morning and you can’t get back to sleep, what else are you supposed to do besides eat? There certainly isn’t anything on television at that hour. Maybe a few infomercials on the latest miracle weight loss product, but who believes that crap?

And why is it that a side effect of all those weight loss pills is always bowel seepage?

My cat, Ruby, jumped into the sink as I rinsed my mouth. I adjusted the water stream so she could get a drink and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

Rats! Toothpaste on my boob again.

Everything ends up on my chest. I should be running about with a bib tied around my neck. People think fat women all have big butts and thunder thighs, but the truth is we come in a variety of shapes just like skinny girls. I’m what they call an apple, wide shoulders, a barrel chest, lean thighs, and no ass to speak of.

At least I don’t have to get naked in front of anyone. That’s one of the good things about being a widow. Aah, it wouldn’t have turned Harry off. My friend Sara thinks losing Harry is the main contributing factor to my twenty pound weight gain this past year. She thinks I miss him more than I realize.

A year.

Actually, it’d been a year and two months since Harry, who was never overweight, died of a massive heart attack. I’m not sentimental. The truth is, I loved Harry madly but he could be a real pain in the butt. On the other hand, I wasn’t easy to live with either.

I remember one morning when we were fighting about the dirty clothes Harry had left on the floor. In exasperation he said, You’re probably right Margaret, I’m a slob, but I get tired of you ordering me around like I’m an errant teenager.

He was right. I do like things to go my way.

Money was another problem. About six years ago, when his Dad died, Harry inherited a pile of money, a source of never-ending argument between the two of us. I liked the bills paid and a fat savings account. Harry agreed that the bills should be paid, but as for saving, forget it. He wanted to travel, eat lobster, and drink champagne. He would have gone through that cash like a blow torch through dry leaves, but I insisted we invest for our old age.

Poor Harry.

He was only fifty-five when he died and never did get to have fun with his money. I learned my lesson. For once Harry was right. Better enjoy yourself today ‘cause you may not have a future. Good thing my father-in-law’s dead. I didn’t fit into his idea of a well-behaved wife. Knowing I ended up with everything would have killed him.

If I could snap my fingers and have Harry back, I'd snap in a heart-beat, but there are perks to being a widow. I loved the years that Harry and I were raising our family. That time had incredible joys, but after decades of rolling out of bed at some ungodly hour and scrambling to get myself, the kids, and Harry fed and out the door, leisurely mornings are pure delight. I like being accountable to no one but myself, and having the only say when it comes to finances.

Every season of life has a new set of perks.

#

I love Wednesdays.

The Fit Girls meet Wednesday evenings at my house. I retired when Harry died, after working as the high-school librarian for nearly thirty years. My kids are grown and living in other states, and since I don’t have a husband to consider, it’s easiest to make my place Fit Girl headquarters.

Everyone brings a sandwich and baked chips and we sit around my dining room table to share the evening meal. If I feel like it I call everyone to say I’m cooking.

Tonight I’m cooking. We’re having green beans from Sara’s garden, spiced with Cajun seasonings and garlic, and cooked in fat free chicken broth along with onion and a small potato each. Earlier I seasoned a lean pork tenderloin roast with rosemary and put it in the crock pot. For dessert I made instant sugar free banana pudding, adding a few banana slices and a dollop of low fat Cool Whip.

A great meal for about six hundred calories.

#

Karen arrived first. She’s thirty-eight, fifteen years younger than me but we’ve been friends for ages. We met when we were both serving on the Christmas Tree Gala committee.

At the time Karen was a big girl and we went on the Herbal Life diet together. We called it Herbal Death. It involved popping pills four times a day. Lord knows what was in them. I think the saleswoman said vitamins, but there had to be another ingredient because they sure made me talk fast and my house had never been so clean. Herbal Death started me and Karen on the diet trail hand in hand.

Karen’s single right now but she’s had two husbands. She loves bad boys: the guys who drink too much, have a little swagger to their walk, and enjoy an occasional brawl.

Karen's lost seventy-five pounds over the past two years, and thanks to her Slimfast, and a change in her eating habits, she’s kept it off. She sells real-estate and does a fine job at it. She says being a fat teenager forced her to develop personality, which is useful in sales.

Even when she was fat Karen had an hourglass figure. Her hips and bust are in balance and her waist is small. She keeps her blonde hair short, and her face has a Drew Barrymore perkiness that brings a smile to your heart. Now and then a few pounds creep up on her when she’s stressed, but Karen just goes back to using Slimfast for breakfast and lunch, and hitting the treadmill double time until she’s on track again.

Always the klutz, Karen caught her sleeve on the latch as she swept through the door. Hi Margaret, dinner smells great, she said, as she casually freed her sweater. I love it when you cook. I swear, when I eat here I’m down a pound the next morning. What can I do to help?

Nothing. The table’s set and the food’s nearly ready. Did you have a good week?

She followed me to the kitchen so I could oversee dinner. I sold the Saber house today, she said.

I rewarded her with a big hug and a bigger smile. Good job. You’ll do all right on that sale. It’s a nice house.

Karen took a seat at the drop leaf table to keep out of the way as I zipped around taking care of the last details of the meal. I wish my personal life was going as well as work, she said. My sister's driving me up a wall. Mom lost twenty pounds on that fat binding diet pill, now Jean Ann’s decided to try it."

As I lifted the crock pot lid to check the roast, my face was enveloped with rosemary-infused steam. It was ready to serve. I turned to Karen, How does that pill work?

It’s supposed to prevent some of the fat from being absorbed.

That should work.

I put the roast on the platter and dished up the vegetables as Karen went on with her lively chatter.

I just worry because Mom gave her the book to read but Jean Ann thinks she knows all about that diet pill from some article she read in the paper, so she hasn’t bothered to read any of the instructions. If you don’t eat low fat you can lose control of your bowels. Jean Ann thinks she can eat anything she wants and pop one of those pills to get rid of it. She’s going to end up on the pot all day.

I chuckled. Here we go again with the bowel seepage, I thought. I said, I’ve done some dumb things on diets too. I remember when I tried Atkins. Just like Jean Ann, I thought I knew all about it. I ate huge amounts of meat and polished off a bag of pork rinds in front of the television every night, then wondered why I was the only one in the world who couldn’t lose weight on Atkins.

Karen sighed, Yeah, and when I think about it, if I had to be married to Albert, shutting yourself in the bathroom all day wouldn't be a bad thing. My brother-in-law is so whacked.

I searched through the utensil drawer for a serving spoon and thought about Albert. I’ll agree that Albert’s not right in the head, I said. As for Jean Ann’s diet denial, it’s funny, but understandable.

Karen puffed out an exasperated sigh and sat back in her chair. I know I should be more understanding, especially when it comes to dieting, but between Jean Ann’s diet and her complaints about Albert’s gambling habits — Karen sliced through the top of her spiky blonde hair with the flat of her hand — I’ve had it up to here.

I grinned, enjoying the drama of Karen’s statement, but if I’d known just how much Albert would affect my life over the next few days, it would’ve wiped the smile from my face.

I heard the back door open and looked up to see Sara. Is it safe to come in? she asked as she came through the door. Karen sounds angry with someone.

Karen smiled, happy to see our friend. I’m just ranting about my sister and brother-in-law again.

Come on in, Sara, I said. Dinner’s ready to put on the table.

#

We’ve always held Fit Girl membership to four. Right now we’re short a member because Angela moved to Florida. The girls are picky about filling her spot, so I was a little concerned. I'd promised Cindy Waveland I'd put her name up. Cindy’s a dark-haired beauty in her early thirties, married to Grant Waveland. Grant’s a successful lawyer and he and Cindy are two of Alta Grove’s beautiful people.

Cindy moved to town when she was hired to teach music. Once hired, people seldom quit working for the Alta Grove school system. Friendships and alliances can exist for decades, making it difficult for a new employee to find their niche. When I extended a hand of friendship, Cindy adopted me as her mentor, but as much as I liked Cindy, I wasn't sure she was a good Fit Girl candidate.

Fit Girls have special attributes: we can keep our lips zipped about what we hear in meetings, a sense of humor is a must, and we share a common problem with food. While Cindy has no problem keeping her mouth shut, she’s a little on the serious side, and I doubted her mere fifteen extra pounds would sway Karen or Sara. Cindy would be no shoo-in.

We don’t follow Robert’s Rules of Order, but we have found a comfortable routine for Fat Girl gatherings. After we ate and cleared the table, we took our walk and then gathered in the front parlor for the meeting. Ruby, her belly pouch flapping from side to side, jogged across the room to join us. She purred, rubbed her cheek against my ankle, then took her place between Karen and Sara on the sofa.

We start with our weight, although we don’t have to tell what we weigh. We believe that’s nobody’s business but our own.

I’ll start, Sara said, because I’ve had a great week. I’ve lost three pounds!

While Karen has a few rough edges, Sara is the epitome of a lady. She’s our youngest member at twenty-eight. She has a pear shape, epitomized by narrow shoulders, broad hips, and a fluffy body.

We congratulated her on her weight loss, and then Karen announced, I’m down too. I’ve lost the two pounds I gained on vacation and I’m back to my goal weight.

They looked expectantly at me, smiles on their faces, waiting for more good news.

I hated putting a damper on the weight loss roll, but I fessed up. I’m up a pound.

Sara’s face changed to kindly concern. Don’t worry about it, Margaret. You’ve had a lot of stress this year.

Yeah, I agreed. Twenty pounds of stress. If I don’t get a handle on this I’m gonna regain all fifty pounds.

Sara tucked a tendril of shiny strawberry blonde hair behind her ear. That won’t happen, she said. I can tell because you’re getting back to your old self. The house is cleaner, you’re starting to exercise again, and you’re spending more time on your appearance.

I raised an eyebrow. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d even had my hair trimmed.

Karen jumped in to help bolster my self-esteem. She’s right. Just getting out of your pajamas before it’s time to go back to bed is an improvement.

Don’t ask me why, but their attempts to cheer me up kind of irritated me. You guys always act like Harry’s death devastated me. I’m fine.

Sara looked at me with sorrowful eyes. We understand how much you’re missing Harry. You don’t have to pretend with us.

Time to change the subject. Sara has great empathy for people and too much sympathy always makes me cry. You both know Cindy Waveland, I said. She’s heard me talking about Fit Girls and wants to join.

Silence.

I tried again. I know Cindy doesn’t fall into what any of us would call the ‘fat’ category, but she took up baking and gained weight recently, and she’s concerned she won’t be able to hold the line.

Silence.

I waited them out. Finally Karen spoke.

I’ve always been comfortable in Fit Girls because I can talk about things people who start out ten or even twenty pounds overweight would never get. If I told Cindy I fell off the wagon while I was in Waterloo and stopped at Burger King for a whopper and fries, then at Dairy Queen for a chocolate cone, and later at the bakery for a cream horn, she’d be disgusted. Hell, even I’m disgusted when I do that crap, but I trust you guys to at least understand.

Sara nodded. Cindy is a sweetheart. I’ve worked on community projects with her several times. But I wouldn’t dream of telling her I’ve poured water over food before dumping it in the garbage so I wouldn’t dig it out to eat later.

The Fit Girls were only saying what I knew was truth. We’re agreed then. I’ll give Cindy our decision.

#

The next morning, when I came downstairs, I paused at the first landing, as I often do. I've lived in my house for thirty years, but I have never gotten over the beauty of the woodwork in the pocket doors, or the graceful curvature of the staircase.

Most the houses in town, of the Victorian era, have oak woodwork, and oak is beautiful, but the abundant wood in my home is butternut. Butternut's darker than oak, but not nearly as dark as walnut or as red as mahogany. I like this unique feature of the house, and I let myself appreciate the foyer before I continued on to the kitchen.

Like many kitchens in old houses, mine's too small. I was able to eke out just enough space for a drop leaf table so Harry and I could eat in the kitchen. Any time the kids are home or I

Reviews for The Fat Woman Mystery

[danigoose1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This is the first ebook I have read where I laughed out loud, astonishing my dog and cat. Seldom have they seen me laugh while on my computer. I loved this book and all the characters, even those characters that had a mean streak in them. I really hope this author writes more books. I am surprised I enjoyed this book so much; I guess I am overdosed on Thrillers and Serial Killers. It has been a most enjoyable break from non-fiction books about World War One and the current group of political fix-it books.