When Eleanor was young, her sister Marry had a boy in the closet, and all of the trouble started with boys.
Young Eleanor Coffee went downstairs and told Mommy that Marry had a boy in the closet.
Just then, the front door opened, and a boy went out of it, and ran down the street.
“I didn’t have a boy in the closet. Eleanor made it up,” said Marry.
The front door opened again. Father was home. Mommy told Father what Eleanor had said.
“Eleanor, go upstairs,” said her mother.
Discussion happened, but nothing else. And forever, Marry upheld that no boy was ever in her closet.
For years, Eleanor worked and worked, to forget. She dusted, vacuumed, scrubbed bathrooms, and washed windows.
Eleanor often insisted to Marry, “But you had a boy in your closet.”
“No, I didn’t. You’re crazy,” replied Marry.
Many years later, Eleanor was asked to come on vacation with Marry, her husband, and their newborn. Eleanor was asked to babysit.
There were lovely and warm days by the beach. Eleanor and Marry looked well and happy in their bathing suits.
One night, all was quiet in the hotel suite for a long time. Then, Marry moaned and squealed with delight. Great consonants swirled around the walls, “MMMMMMM.”
Then great vowels, “OH Oh Ohh OH.” Great consonants and great vowels.
The newborn was safely sleeping in the closet of Eleanor’s room. Eleanor was not sleeping, but thought, “Sex! Sounds good!”
Eventually, Eleanor got away from the cleaning and the babysitting. She changed her hair, lost a few pounds, and dressed beautifully.
Eleanor met a man.
The man was a businessman, who had a previous relationship for seven long years.
The man looked at Eleanor, and said, “I want you to be fat and ugly, so no one will ever look at you but me.”
The man took Eleanor out to eat all the time, but he did not pay the bill. Eleanor had to pay. Eleanor had to work and work to pay all of the bills, which really added up.
They went to steakhouses, that gave rolls and butter, and big chunks of red meat, filets, and lamb, and veal, sometimes rodizio style, and there were hot steamy potatoes with butter and sour cream, and sweet potatoes with butter and brown sugar.
They went to seafood restaurants, that gave them rolls and butter, and great catches of fish and crabs, crab stuffing, calamari, scallops, and garlic potatoes.
They went to Italian restaurants, with the specials of tours of pastas, shells, and manicotti, cannelloni, half-moons, and peppers, and rolls and butter and cheese and sausage and meatballs and gravy and lasagna.
They got Chinese take-out, with the wontons, soups, Rangoon, noodles, tempura, stir-fry, lo-mein, rice, and fortune cookies.
They went out for Mexican, and large portions of salsa and chips and tacos, burritos, flautas, and enchiladas were placed before them.
They ate pizza out; they ordered pizza in.
They drank beer, pale ale, stout beer, craft brews, holiday brews, imported beer, red wine, white wine, sangria, reisling, dessert wine, port, cocktails, mixed drinks, martinis, shots, tequila, brandy, whiskey, rum, bread, rolls, butter, chicken wings, mozzarella sticks, fried cheese, deep-fried mushrooms, zucchini sticks, crab dip, asparagus dip, and cheese.
And should we order dessert? Of course! There were blueberry crostinis, and apple tarts, apple dumplings, all creamy, rice puddings, and cocoa puddings and bread puddings, and brule drizzles and tiramasus of desserts.
Eventually, Eleanor and the man were married.
Eleanor worked and worked to pay the bills, and she ate and ate. Eleanor grew to be so fat, that she could not wipe her own ass. She worked as a paper-grader, and sat and graded and worked.
Eleanor never told anyone about what the man said. After all, who would believe her? This was even more ridiculous than a boy in Marry’s closet.
Eleanor began to say “No” to the man.
“Please don’t take me out to dinner. Please, no more.”
“What do you want for dinner?” said the man.
“Please may I have a salad?” said Eleanor.
The man brought her a cheeseteak and cheese fries.
“Please don’t buy me anything fattening, please.”
The man brought home two bags of sour cream potato chips.
"I want you to say "No" to me," said the man.
Eleanor finally confided in a friend, Ellen.
“Do you think he is feeding you because he loves you?” Ellen asked.
“Maybe yes,” said Eleanor. “But maybe he is trying to kill me.”
“No,” said Ellen. “No, no, no. I don’t believe you.”
One night, the man was stuck in traffic, and would be ornery upon his homecoming.
Eleanor made the potato dumplings she knew the man would like, to make him feel better.
The man came home, and they ate the potato dumplings. It was all carbs—but that was the dinner.
The man told Eleanor that she looked hungry. How could someone who was 300 pounds look hungry? The man said he was going out to get Eleanor chicken McNuggets.
Eleanor said, “No, please. I don’t think you should go.”
Eleanor said it twice. No means No.
The man went out and he came back.
He got the chicken McNuggets.
Not six McNuggets. Not ten McNuggets. Twenty chicken McNuggets.
"You're not eating," the man said. "Oh, your mouth is full," as he looked over at Eleanor.
Eleanor ate and ate, but she was full.
Eleanor died that night of a heart attack.
At the funeral, the man met a woman and the man told the woman, “You look like a person who could console me. You are so beautiful, and if you will be with me, you will never have to diet again.”
The woman, thought, “Cool.”
Marry was mortified by her sister’s appearance, and closed the casket. Marry got what she wanted and always had full closets.
The man got what he wanted: Eleanor was fat and ugly, and no one ever looked at her again. Not even Father Mckenzie.
