The girl’s hair was blonde and wavy, unruly from the salt in the sea air. Her belly rounded slightly underneath a one-piece swimsuit covered in pink and orange flowers. Seagulls lurked near the umbrella, hoping for a stray French fry or shred of string cheese. A book lay open upon her lap, resting on thighs that were baby soft, round, and a slightly red on the insides from the friction of the sand as she had walked along the boardwalk earlier that day on her way to mini-golf with her father and brothers.
Her father sat above her in a folding chair, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. She heard the French fries crunch as he mechanically bit and chewed them, one by one.
“May I please have some more French fries?” she said, casting her eyes down.
“Sure thing,” said her father. He wrapped three French fries in a paper napkin and handed them down to his daughter. The breeze picked up and tousled the girl’s stiff, salty hair as she gazed towards the waves. Gulls swooped over the ocean. It was halfway between low tide and full tide. Waves fractured the water choppily. A barge was visible just before the horizon.
Maybe it’s not a barge, thought the girl. Perhaps it is England, like the place where Queen Elizabeth in my book lived. How amazing it would be if I could swim all the way, all the way out there and see a new place.
Her father’s voice entered her consciousness. “Which one of those girls would you not want to be?”
They had not entered her awareness as she dreamed about the land across the sea, but now her sight was drawn to a group of seven girls laughing and splashing each other near the shore. In comparison to the girl’s soft, ten year old frame, the group looked like adults though they were likely no more than seventeen. There were no one-piece floral swimsuits among the group. They were all long hair, long legs, and bikinis.
The girl pondered her father’s question for a few seconds as she finished chewing her last French fry. Beaming, she looked up at him and said, “None of them, Daddy. I want to be me.”
Before her father could speak, her mother looked up from where she had been sitting and nursing the baby under a towel.
“Matt, that’s not appropriate, don’t say that to a child!” She swatted his arm lightly, smiling.
“What do you think I’m going to say?” he said defensively.
Her mother leaned in closely and stage whispered, “That she wouldn’t want to be the black one. You can’t just say things like that in public.”
The girl’s eyes darted from one parent to the other.
“No,” her father grinned, his teeth glinting in the sunlight. “She wouldn’t want to be the fat one.”
Her mother’s Revlon-red lips turned downward slightly. After a slight pause, she re-positioned her towel and continued nursing the baby. The girl locked her eyes on her book, hands trembling slightly.
“Isn’t that right, Meggie?” her father asked. “You sure like to read a lot, like your Aunt Margaret. There’s a reason she is alone. No one wants to date a fat girl. Do you understand?”
Meggie nodded her head almost imperceptibly. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Good. I just want you to be healthy. And happy. I want you to find a good looking guy someday.”
Meggie looked off into the distance again, but this time she stared away from the sea, hoping to avoid staring at the giggling girls. Meggie was almost sure she knew which one was the “fat one,” without taking a second look. She blinked a few extra times as she realized the girl had laughed, grabbing her friends for support from the waves, and had seemed every bit as happy as her friends in that moment.
A wrinkled woman with brown, freckled skin and a visor covered in large flowers came into Meggie’s line of sight. Meggie’s eyes lit up at the sight of the woman. The woman’s eyes were hidden behind thick sunglasses. Her lumpy arms were weighed down by folding chairs and a cooler bag which was presumably filled with Sprite and ham sandwiches. Barefoot, the girl ran across the hot sand to reach her. For the first time the girl noticed the cottage cheese texture of the beloved woman’s thighs and the veins standing out on her trunk-like legs.
“Hello Mom Mom,” she said as she took her grandmother’s burden. Her grandmother stroked back her unruly hair and kissed her head.
“Oh honey, thank you,” said the woman. “You look beautiful. You are growing up so fast.”
For the first time, the girl doubted the sincerity of her grandmother’s words. She turned away quickly, trying not to notice her round belly as she looked down at her feet.
