Conversations with Mrs.

This is from the current work in progress featuring Juniper.

"I've been spending a lot of time on FaceBook gawking at wedding food," Juniper says.  "Do you ever do this?"

And just like Juniper's other friend, How's Life, Mrs. and Juniper share a laugh.  Also, like How's Life, Mrs. and Juniper haven't made it to first names yet.  Juniper has thoughts about why this is.  She remembers How's Life could go on tangents about her search for a dog, but she always came back to something Juniper said about her problems and tried to offer helpful advice.  Mrs. is different, she acts as if she doesn't know what FaceBook is, either that or the idea of wedding food turns her off.  Instead, Mrs. asks about the maximum calories a day for women and whether following a Mediterranean plan is a good thing. 

"I'm a better teacher than a nutritionist," Juniper says.  "But you should meet my mother.  She's on a pizza diet.  She thinks it will make her skinny."

"Is she having any luck?"

Juniper shrugs.  "The slices are getting tinier."

Juniper wonders what Mrs. would say about the peanut butter in her cabinets.  Most of the time, she gives it away, but sometimes she's figured out how to make meals where she can't tell it's in there, kind of like those recipes with prune puree where it substitutes for the butter or the fat.    And she eats more dinners at her parents because she's scared of being in her apartment by herself.  "I'm on a pizza diet too," Juniper says.  "Take-out."

"That's because you're a work-out instructor," Mrs. says.  "I don't eat pizza, unless it's one of those frozen diet kinds."

Compared to Mrs., her mom always appears to be having a good time, like the pizza secret she's convinced her neighbor brought with her from wherever it was they came - which she is convinced is someplace exotic like California.  She eats pizza and stuffs marshmallow fluff between graham crackers for dessert, I swear I've seen her do it.  It's a secret the stars keep, while they tell everyone else to eat meat and skip the potatoes.

Juniper should have said no to lunch.  But Mrs. looks like her mom, except unlike Mrs. Johnson, Mrs. seems lonely and almost desperate for a friend.  And she makes salads appear in ten minutes from Juniper doesn't know where.  Anything near the fitness club takes at least thirty.  Juniper isn't sure why Mrs. seems so interested in her, Mrs. didn't say why.  But this isn't the kind of question Juniper feels comfortable asking, it feels rude, and from what Juniper overhears from a few of the other women in the group, from passing conversations, most of their lives center around coping with divorce, demented older parents, and grown-up children who to some extent suffer from a kind of dementia too.  They are so busy with their own lives, they forget we exist.