Read Online Bigger (The Nicky Beets series) by Erin Mayes - Free Book Online Page B

the facts. I
gestured toward my full stomach. “I’ve been thinking I need to do something
about this.”
    “I’m telling you – the Blood Type Diet!” she enthused.
    “I’m thinking low-carb. Or no-carb,” I told her. “I’ve tried it before
and it seems to work pretty well, if I can just stick with it.”
    “Well, low carb is really the way you should be eating for your blood
type, anyway,” she lectured. “So when are you going to start? Tomorrow?”
    I thought for a moment. I wanted to diet – or rather, I wanted to
lose weight. I’d proven to myself in the past that I wasn’t able to diet,
especially around Chuck. But I could surely explain to Chuck my need to shed
the weight, and he would understand that this time he would need to be more
supportive than he had been in the past. And if I was going to begin a yoga class
the following day, it only made sense to start the diet the following day.
    “Yeah,” I decided. “Tomorrow.”
    “Ok, awesome!” Roxanne enthused. “You can do this.”
    I smiled uncertainly. My track record didn’t inspire me with confidence,
and the complacent part of me didn’t relish the idea of exerting a lot of
effort with exercise without being rewarded with delicious food. But, my skinny
friend seemed ready and willing to prod me lovingly to the starting line, and
for that I could only be grateful.

 
    The remainder of our workday was quiet and slow, allowing Rox and I to
spend inordinate amounts of time on the Internet; shopping, scrolling through
social media sites, and emailing friends. I used the time to compile a two-week
menu and grocery list that included mainly lean meat and vegetables. There were
many healthy salads in my future if I stuck with this. The thought made me
morose, and I began to worry about how my blog readers were going to respond.
    My plan was to stop at the grocery store on the way home from work to
procure all of my new, healthy foods. I would take them home; remove all
processed food, sugary stuff and fattening grub from my kitchen; and begin what
was sure to be another challenging weight loss program.
    After one last blast that evening. I couldn’t very well start a crazy new
diet plan without having a “last meal” – never mind how many “last meals”
I’d had prior to previous failed diets. I’d read somewhere that when we
repeatedly break our promises to ourselves, we begin to lose trust in our own
words. I’d probably reached the point where I didn’t believe a thing I said
when it came to weight loss, but I had to put that out of my mind, now. I had to
believe this time the plan would stick, and this last meal would be a true
final indulgence before I cut “bad” carbs out of my life forever.
    At dusk, I trudged toward the dark garage where my car was parked, making
my way along the sidewalks with hundreds of other worker bees. My cell phone
rang as soon as I sat in the driver’s seat and shut the car door. It was my
best friend, Laurie. She liked to call me during my evening commute so she
could have my undivided attention. Traffic was usually slow enough that it
sometimes took me an hour to get home. I slipped in my earbuds and answered the
phone.
    “Dude,” I answered. I’ve been calling men and women alike “dude” for as
long as I’ve been alive, and I don’t see myself being able to break the habit.
    “Nic,” Laurie greeted me. “Hey, so … did you by chance watch the news
last night?”
    “Mother fucker,” I swore.
    “I take it you saw it, too,” she ventured.
    “Sure did. Flattering, no?”
    “Simply horrifying,” she answered. She didn’t have to elaborate. She knew
me well enough to know I’d be enormously pissed off. “I’m so sorry. What are
you doing right now?”
    “I’m on my way to the grocery store to buy my new healthy staples so I
can lose a quadrillion pounds so this never happens to me again,” I told her.
    Laurie sighed. “Come over to my place. Have some wine.”
    Chuck was