One Pound a Day

DAY 1

The house is nondescript, light-colored brick on a tree lined street. My heart is pounding as I shut off the engine. I take a deep breath and open my door.

There are tears in my eyes as I hand over the bracelet. If it weren’t for Daniela, I’d be positive that I’m being scammed. I’m still not fully convinced, actually, but I am desperate. A trinket seems like a small price to pay for what I’ll get in return.

"This belonged to your grandmother," the lady says. "Your grandfather proposed with this instead of a ring."

"How did you…" But I know how she knows. Daniela.

She smiles at me. There’s nothing sinister about it — she’s the exact opposite of what I’d expected. I’d had visions of beaded curtains and candles and a turbaned old crone with missing teeth. Instead, I’m sitting in a kitchen straight from the pages of Architectural Digest, across from a woman who could, in the right light, pass for Gwyneth Paltrow. "I know many things," she says.

I fidget in my seat. I’m a logical, rational, reasonable person. Simply being here feels wrong, goes against everything I believe in. But I’m at the point that I’m willing to try almost anything, short of a hypnotist. I don’t like the idea of not being fully in control of myself, even if the outcome is exactly what I desire.

"There’s something you want," the lady says. "Something you have been trying to achieve for most of your life, yes?"

A lump materializes in my throat, and it’s a moment before I can respond. "Yes."

"To be thin."

"Yes." The tears finally spill over.

She covers my hands with her own. "Then it shall be."

"What do I have to do?"

"You’ve already done it."

"How did it go?"

My cousin is dying to get information out of me. I thought I’d feel better after meeting with the very nice lady, but I’m only more bereft. My eyes go from my plate to hers, loaded nachos versus a salad, my Dr. Pepper to her mineral water. If I could behave more like Daniela, I wouldn’t have to stoop to such ridiculous levels.

I give her a halfhearted shrug. "Okay, I guess. I don’t really feel any different."

"Well, you’re not going to, silly. At least not right away." She flips her enviable long, dark hair — the reason she’d visited the lady — over her shoulder. "What did she say about how long it would take?"

"I should lose a pound a day, until I’m at my goal."

Daniela squeals, and I duck my head against the glances from other restaurant patrons. She has never had to think about people staring at her for a reason other than because she’s beautiful. No one has ever scowled in disgust when she walked into a room or shaken their head in judgment when she deigns to eat. There’s no reason for her to think twice about drawing attention to herself in a crowded room. I, however, wish I could disappear.

"Do you know what that means? You’ll be on the beach in a bikini this summer!"

"Let’s not get ahead of ourselves."

DAY 2

Sure enough, the scale shows one fewer pound than it did yesterday. This means nothing — my weight easily fluctuates.

DAY 18

I’m still in disbelief when I weigh myself. Seventeen pounds down, without my making any adjustments to my eating habits or activity level. My co-workers have begun commenting on my appearance. I tell them I’ve taken up running in the mornings. Everyone is a bit more surprised than I’d like.

DAY 63

Daniela’s eyes pass over me twice before she recognizes me. "You look amazing," she says once we’re seated.

"I feel amazing," I admit. I’m already sleeping better and I have more energy than I can ever remember having. I’m still a big girl, but I’m feeling like less and less of a spectacle. I have even been taking my dog for regular walks instead of just letting him out into the backyard so he can exercise on his own. "I can’t thank you enough for—"

"Don’t mention it." She waves away my gratitude.

"No, seriously, I mean—"

"Paloma, don’t. It’s nothing, really."

I’m a bit put off by her dismissal, but I decide to let it go. Not much bothers me these days. Even the sting of relinquishing my grandmother’s cherished bracelet has faded to a distant memory. I’d never worn it anyway — simply gazed upon it in its velvet box every now and again.

The lighting in the restaurant is dim, but I can still see that Daniela’s makeup is heavier than usual. She washes down her salad with two glasses of wine.

DAY 94

Daniela asks if I don’t mind picking her up for our lunch date. It’s out of my way, since we live on opposites sides of town, but I’m feeling pretty damn good.

She offers me a tepid smile as she slides into my car. I see that her makeup is heavier than ever. "Is something wrong with your car?" I ask.

"There are issues with the transmission. It’s in the shop."

She’s lying, I can tell. This is my cousin and my best friend; we’re closer than sisters. It hurts to realize she would ever be dishonest with me, but the pain is numbed by the sheer joy I have been experiencing as of late. Today, for the first time in my life, I enjoyed trying on clothes. I was shopping for a new outfit for my date with Tim from Marketing. I’d asked Daniela if she wanted to come to the mall with me, but she’d said she was busy.

"That’s cute," I say now, indicating the colorful scarf she has tied around her head.

"I’m trying something new. It’s a fashion statement."

"I like it."

At the restaurant, she barely touches her salad but washes down what she does eat with a full bottle of wine. "Is everything okay?" I ask gently.

"You know you’re beautiful, right?"

Her compliment makes me blush. "Thanks. I still have about six more weeks—"

"That’s not what I mean." There’s half a swallow of white wine left in her goblet and she tips the glass to her lips and throws her head back to capture every drop. "You’ve always been beautiful. You just never knew it."

"Oh, come on, you know that’s not true. No one ever flirted with me before, or asked me out."

"That wasn’t because of your weight, Paloma. You walk with your head up now. You smile. You’re not talking to the floor anymore. That’s why guys are flirting with you. That’s why Tim finally asked you out."

I’m shaking my head. I’m thirty-four and haven’t ever had a real boyfriend. I’ve always had interests and desires and been, I think, a skilled conversationalist. All anyone had to do was get to know me, but there seemed to be few people who wanted to know a girl that fell so far outside of the ideal when it came to beauty. And the few guys who had been interested had turned out to be major creeps. Besides my family, only my cocker spaniel, Rizzo, actually loved me. "You’re wrong, Dani. You just don’t get it because you actually have been beautiful your entire life."

Tears fill her eyes. "Just promise me that no matter what, you’ll remember what I said."

"‘No matter what?’"

But she doesn’t respond, just signals the waitress for another bottle.

DAY 122

Tim and I have gotten hot and heavy pretty fast. It’s exhilarating. My heart races whenever he happens to stroll past my cubicle. There’s really no reason for him to come by the Legal department but he makes an excuse to do it every day. I think I’m falling in love.

DAY 136

I’m at my goal weight. I’m still in a state of disbelief; there was a time when I thought this would be impossible. Rizzo dances around the living room with me, so excited that I’m active that he seems delirious with glee. He barks happily and gives a few joyful hops for good measure. Daniela declines to celebrate with me, so I make plans with Tim instead.

DAY 137

The scale shows one more pound than it did yesterday. This means nothing — my weight easily fluctuates.

DAY 141

I’m up five pounds from my goal. Panic has begun to gnaw incessantly at my brain like a starving rat with a hunk of cheese.

DAY 147

I’ve been living on green tea and laxatives for the past three days, and I’m still eleven pounds over my goal. My brand new wardrobe is getting tight. I call in sick to work and go see the lady.

"You only asked to be thin," she says, her beatific smile belying the devastating effect of her words. "And you achieved that. Staying thin is a different story, and costs much more than a charm bracelet."

"How much more?"

"The first gift had to be something of sentimental value. Now it must be something of convenience."

"Like what?"

Her gaze rests on my keys, which I’m fiddling with in my agitation. "Like a car."

"You want my car?" But as I’m saying it, I’m suddenly transported back to what had been my last meeting with Daniela, when she’d said her car was in the shop. She had been sporting her new "fashion statement."

Her hair had begun falling out again.

Jesus.

"What if I say no?"

The lady’s smile never changes. She just watches me patiently, expectantly.

"I don’t need this magic or voodoo or whatever this is," I say. "I can maintain my weight on my own."

"Can you?"

Adrenaline is coursing through me right now, giving me a false sense of health. But I haven’t eaten in three days, and I’m starting to come apart at the seams. My skin is mottled and I am already shaky and forgetful. And yet I continue to gain weight.

This is a nightmare.

"You can always get another car."

I hand over my key.

DAY 264

Daniela has been avoiding me, so I show up at her house unannounced and let myself in. My cousin actually looks like a ghost of her former self, pale and shrunken and gaunt.

And completely bald.

"Oh Daniela…"

"I couldn’t do it anymore," she says from the corner of the couch, where she’s hugging her knees. "I couldn’t give her what she wanted."

"What did she want?" In my terror, I can only whisper the words. It has taken me a moment to realize it, but her eyebrows and eyelashes are gone, too.

But Daniela doesn’t answer, simply shuts her sunken eyes and begins to rock back and forth.

I’m in so much shock that I can’t even cry. Everything leading up to this flashes through my mind: the stress of her marriage ending; the subsequent hair loss; her despair when it wouldn’t grow back, no matter what she tried. Then, after a brief absence, she re-emerged with the beautiful hair that had always been her pride and joy. When I asked what was her secret, she’d only given me an enigmatic smile. It wasn’t until I reached my lowest point of depression and suggested that life wasn’t worth living that she revealed how she had regained her glory.

I’m beginning to wish she’d never told me.

DAY 1,844

It’s my final fitting and the seamstress can’t get the zipper up. "Uh oh," she says. "Have you gained a little weight?"

DAY 1,846

"Nothing last forever," the lady tells me when I confront her.

"But you said I would stay thin."

"And you have, for more than four years. But if you want this to last longer, I need another gift."

My eyes immediately dart to my keys, but the lady laughs. "You’ve already given me a car."

"But the one I have now is much nicer." I cannot believe I’m trying to convince someone to take my car. How am I going to explain this to Tim?

"The first gift was one of sentimental value, the second of convenience. Now I require something that cannot be replaced."

I think of the home that we have just purchased, our dream house. We just closed on it a month ago, in the midst of the chaos of planning a wedding. Then I think of Daniela, gone for two years now, and how bad it got for her, the strain of existing in a hell of her own making.

I’m stronger than Daniela, though.

"This ends here," I say. "I won’t give you another thing."

As usual, her expression doesn’t change. "One pound a day." It’s a simple statement, but one that sends chills down my spine.

"So be it," I say, calling her bluff. Tim loves me unconditionally. He’ll stay by my side, even if it is much larger.

"Well then." She dusts her hands together like a baker removing flour. "Enjoy what time you have left."

"That’s a bit dramatic. I mean, I’ve lived at that size before — I can do it again." But I haven’t forgotten how miserable I was, and I no longer have Daniela to hold me up, and despite my confidence of a few seconds ago, I’m not sure that Tim will stay with me if I return to my old self. The thought makes me want to cry. I could go to the police, but what would I tell them? The story is beyond incredible, and even if they do believe me, how could they even help?

"You’re right," the lady says, "you have lived at that size, the size that you were when you first came to see me, before. But what happens when you’re bigger than that?"

"Bigger?"

"One pound a day. Indefinitely."

DAY 1,854

Rizzo gazes at me in bewilderment as I hand his leash to the lady. I thought I’d be crying uncontrollably, but my eyes are bone dry. I tell myself that you’re expected to outlive your pets, anyway, and that I can always get another dog. I’m getting married in three weeks and I need to be able to fit into my dress. I’m sure that if he knew everything I’d been through, he would understand. I don’t look back when he begins to whimper as I walk out the door.

DAY 4,622

Tim smiles at me across the kitchen table. His hair is graying and he has developed a bit of a beer belly, but he still looks as good to me as the first time I saw him, at a work holiday party. "What?" He asks.

"You’re cute," I say.

"Yeah right." He takes a hearty bite of his omelet. "Is that all you’re eating?"

I look down at my meager breakfast of tea and toast. I’ve barely eaten the past few days, so you think I’d be starving, but my stomach is in knots. "For now."

"You’re not dieting, are you?" he asks suspiciously. "You’re the same size as the day we got married."

Except I’m not — not exactly. A week ago, I was the same size as the day we got married. Today, I’m six pounds heavier.

DAY 4,640

The lady hasn’t aged a day in nearly thirteen years. I wonder what she’s given up to stay young forever.

DAY 4,672

The house is nondescript, light-colored brick on a tree-lined street. My heart is pounding as I shut off the engine. I take a deep breath and open my door.

"Who’s this friend that I’ve never heard of but just have to meet ?" My husband asks, sliding out of the passenger seat.

"A very nice lady," I tell him. "Come on, you’ll see."