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This was no more evident than the last Saturday of the month. Shannelle told Beth that she had an obligation to attend to, and she was going out. She didn’t return until just before dawn and Beth had waited up for her. Beth was surprised to smell the sex on Shannelle; she actually smelled like sex. When Shannelle excused herself to go to the bathroom, Beth could see a glob of dried semen in her hair!

Beth, of course, couldn’t ask her directly what she had been doing. She was curious, especially since the same thing happened the next Saturday and the Saturday after that. She worked up the courage to ask Shannelle, but Shannelle broached the subject before she did.

“Beth,” she said, “I know you don’t believe this, but there are men who think big women are sexy.”

“Seems like you find one every Saturday night,” Beth blurted out before she could stop herself. She turned red at the indelicacy she had displayed.

Shannelle wasn’t much embarrassed though. She was actually relieved that Beth had brought it up. “Well, that’s what I wanted to talk about.”

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“Oh.”

“I have some friends who accept me, and think I am special,” Shannelle explained. “And we meet every Saturday night to Get Together.” She paused to see if Beth took her meaning; she did. “Now, it’s a pretty big group of people, but they all respect me. One of them really likes me too.” Shannelle blushed a little, which made Beth smile.

“You have a boyfriend?” she asked.

“Naw, who wants one of them?” Shannelle laughed. “No, I don’t have one, because I don’t want one. This brother would love me to be his girlfriend though.” Beth nodded, understanding. “The point is that these people care for one another.”

“You are lucky,” Beth said.

“Well, here’s the thing. We have a ratio of people in the group, so many women for so many men, ya know?” Shannelle explained. Beth nodded her understanding. “And a couple of the girls have left, and so we need a couple to replace them. Besides which, there’s a couple guys who’d like to join, but can’t because we ain’t got enough women.”

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Shannelle was worried about Beth. She was a good worker, and was seldom late. She always called in when she was sick, always. And yet, it was almost 11:00 am and no one knew where Beth was. Calls to her house went unanswered. It was with great relief that Shannelle saw Beth go into her cubical.

“Girl, you alright?” Shannelle asked, genuinely concerned. Beth looked like she had pink eye, but Shannelle didn’t suspect a disease.

“No,” Beth said. With the simple word, Beth’s eyes started to water and Beth fled. Shannelle followed her to the ladies room.

“What’s wrong, Beth?” she asked, looking around to see that no one else was in the bathroom. Beth started to sob, and so it took a long time to get the whole sordid story out. Shannelle, a very large woman herself, understood exactly what Beth was saying. She too had lived with the stigma of being a ‘fatty’, even though her African American culture often seemed to glorify the big beautiful woman. She had all sorts of black men calling her all the time; they liked a ’sista’ with a ‘womanly ass.’ Her big butt was an attraction to many men. As a minority, though, she knew that the society at large minimized the value of big people, and big women in particular.

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Shannelle was a deeply caring woman, and she had great empathy for Beth. Beth was one of her best friends. When one of her best friends needed her, Shanelle responded. She went back into the office, and told their supervisor that Beth was ill, and that she was taking her home to make sure she got the care she needed.

Beth spent the rest of the day crying, until there were no more tears to be had. Shannelle then began to talk to her, still listening more than speaking, but offering her the wisdom she could give. Beth finally fell asleep as the sun set, exhausted at the ordeal of tears.

Shannelle had to work the next day, but she had her momma stay with Beth. She was afraid Beth would do something stupid. Her momma spent the day reviling Josh and white men in general, which actually did make Beth feel better. Even so, Beth was relieved when Shannelle got home and Momma left.

Beth had slept most of the day, both because she was exhausted and to escape Momma. Consequently, Beth was strong enough to talk to Shannelle about her feelings, and her life. When Shannelle asked if Beth wanted to stay with her for a bit, Beth only hesitated for a decent period before agreeing.

After a month of esteem-building by Shannelle, Beth was much stronger. Beth had learned to admire Shannelle, both because she was a good friend and because she had embraced her size and sexuality. To Shannelle, her size was an asset.

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Or did. Because he replied, “Look, I am not worried about office gossips. And if we were discrete, I think I could help your career.” He reached across and touched my hand. I know it was supposed to be a reassuring touch, but at the time I was thinking of the chapter in the book that advised ‘if you were going to date someone in your office, make sure you make it worthwhile’. He continued, “What are you looking for… maybe it is me.”

“I doubt it,” I answered. Here’s where I needed to stretch the truth. “I have a man in my life who is willing to let me call the shots… sexually. He is happy–prefers even–to let me be in charge. And I am having fun with him.”

Curtis got a strange look on his face. “Oh God, Nancy….” he looked pained, as if tormented internally. “Can I tell you something and it goes no further?”

“Sure,” I said, curious.

“I need to be so driven during the day, to make my goals and so on. I am so tired by the end of the day, that I don’t want to think at all. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I answered.

“So I have been wanting a woman… one who is strong, and self-confident… and can ….” His face was red, and he looked stricken. He was so different from the man who I watched with some awe at meetings. There he was powerful, decisive, self-assured. This Curtis looked rather puny, so much so that he seemed incapable of finishing his statement.

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“You want a woman who will not force you to be strong,” I said, trying to be helpful. “A woman who will…dominate you.” I heard my own voice, surprised that it was so soft, compassionate, understanding. His sudden display of weakness and need touched me.

His head dropped, as if the revelation had sapped his entire strength. “Yes,” he said. I didn’t say anything, my heart beating hard in my chest and my brain racing. He looked up suddenly, his eyes blazing. “I know you won’t share this with anyone,” he said defiantly.

I smiled at him. “I won’t,” I promised. But I would definitely try to use the information.

“So…” he said, his body language softening. “So, you see, I am not that different from your other guy. And, even though it could be awkward to date someone from the office, I am very interested in you. I don’t know how I overlooked you all this time.”

I knew precisely how he had overlooked me. It was because in my pre-makeover days I was bland and insecure, hiding myself. Now, confident that I looked great, I didn’t mind the attention. Actually I enjoyed it.

“Look,” I said. “I appreciate your interest, and I am flattered.

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