the tight grip he’d been applying to his leather armchair, which faced Dr. Ruth’s desk and was adjacent to a coffee table filled with synthetic food. Bennett had called the nutritionist “doctor,” so James had also come to think of her as Dr. Ruth. He picked up a piece of fake food from the table next to him—a plastic chicken drumstick—and examined it curiously.
“I like meat and potatoes,” he answered as he replaced the chicken leg and scooped up a pile of peas, which had the consistency of hardened Play-Doh. “I’m not a big seafood fan, but I do like a lot of green vegetables as well as all kinds of fruit.” He paused. “I love salty stuff like cheese puffs, peanuts, buttered popcorn, and Doritos. And I’ve got a sweet tooth as well. I feel like my meal isn’t really done until I’ve had something sugary, especially after supper.”
“That’s not uncommon. Many people need dessert to provide a sense of closure to their meal.” Dr. Ruth took a few notes. “It sounds like you eat a nice variety of healthy foods. That makes my job easier.” She gave him an approving smile. “It’s also encouraging that you have a specific aim, such as wanting to fit more comfortably into your clothes. When is your father’s wedding?”
“In less than two weeks. On Christmas Eve,” James said.
Dr. Ruth tapped her pen thoughtfully against her notepad. “Healthy weight loss is gradual, Mr. Henry. You might lose four or five pounds by the wedding, but not fifteen or twenty. I don’t want you to go into this with unrealistic expectations.”
James nodded. “Oh, I know. The wedding just gave me the motivation I needed to make an appointment with you. I probably won’t lose any weight now that my father’s future wife’s sister is in town. She’s a famous baker, and she’s going to be making the wedding cake. Somehow or other, I promised to taste a sample of all of her favorite recipes and pronounce which cake I think should be served at the wedding.”
“That’s quite an honor,” Dr. Ruth said with an amused grin. “And actually, you could still lose weight while being the official cake taster. Two or three bites are not going to make a difference as long as you’re not combining those high-calorie samples with other unhealthy treats in the course of one day.” She turned to a wooden letter tray near her right elbow and pulled out a sheet of computer paper. Sliding on a pair of reading glasses, she looked up at James over the lenses and asked, “The baker’s name wouldn’t happen to be Paulette Martine, would it?”
“That’s her. The Diva of Dough,” James replied, unable to keep a hint of bitterness from his tone.
“I’m doing a television show with her this Thursday. The crew from the CBS affiliate in Charlottesville is driving up here to interview us about how we approach holiday feasts. I’m supposed to talk about practicing moderation in order to avoid weight gain, and Paulette is going to illustrate examples of decadent foods that are worth blowing a diet for. Of course, I don’t support diets, but a change of lifestyle. Still, it should be an interesting show.” She picked up a framed photograph on her desk and showed it to James. “Channel 19 plans to run clips from the show on their evening news program as well. I’m hoping to gain a few more clients from the deal so that I can keep up with the cost of tuition.”
As James examined the photograph of Dr. Ruth’s three sons, who all resembled NFL linebackers, he wondered whether he should warn Dr. Ruth about Paulette’s waspish manner. The nutritionist, a petite brunette with lovely skin and glistening blue-green eyes, was markedly gentle and soft-spoken in comparison to Paulette Martine. James hated the idea that Paulette might browbeat Dr. Ruth in front of thousands of television viewers. “Well, I’ll definitely tune in,” he said. “But look out for Paulette. She’s got a rather venomous tongue.”
Dr. Ruth
“I like meat and potatoes,” he answered as he replaced the chicken leg and scooped up a pile of peas, which had the consistency of hardened Play-Doh. “I’m not a big seafood fan, but I do like a lot of green vegetables as well as all kinds of fruit.” He paused. “I love salty stuff like cheese puffs, peanuts, buttered popcorn, and Doritos. And I’ve got a sweet tooth as well. I feel like my meal isn’t really done until I’ve had something sugary, especially after supper.”
“That’s not uncommon. Many people need dessert to provide a sense of closure to their meal.” Dr. Ruth took a few notes. “It sounds like you eat a nice variety of healthy foods. That makes my job easier.” She gave him an approving smile. “It’s also encouraging that you have a specific aim, such as wanting to fit more comfortably into your clothes. When is your father’s wedding?”
“In less than two weeks. On Christmas Eve,” James said.
Dr. Ruth tapped her pen thoughtfully against her notepad. “Healthy weight loss is gradual, Mr. Henry. You might lose four or five pounds by the wedding, but not fifteen or twenty. I don’t want you to go into this with unrealistic expectations.”
James nodded. “Oh, I know. The wedding just gave me the motivation I needed to make an appointment with you. I probably won’t lose any weight now that my father’s future wife’s sister is in town. She’s a famous baker, and she’s going to be making the wedding cake. Somehow or other, I promised to taste a sample of all of her favorite recipes and pronounce which cake I think should be served at the wedding.”
“That’s quite an honor,” Dr. Ruth said with an amused grin. “And actually, you could still lose weight while being the official cake taster. Two or three bites are not going to make a difference as long as you’re not combining those high-calorie samples with other unhealthy treats in the course of one day.” She turned to a wooden letter tray near her right elbow and pulled out a sheet of computer paper. Sliding on a pair of reading glasses, she looked up at James over the lenses and asked, “The baker’s name wouldn’t happen to be Paulette Martine, would it?”
“That’s her. The Diva of Dough,” James replied, unable to keep a hint of bitterness from his tone.
“I’m doing a television show with her this Thursday. The crew from the CBS affiliate in Charlottesville is driving up here to interview us about how we approach holiday feasts. I’m supposed to talk about practicing moderation in order to avoid weight gain, and Paulette is going to illustrate examples of decadent foods that are worth blowing a diet for. Of course, I don’t support diets, but a change of lifestyle. Still, it should be an interesting show.” She picked up a framed photograph on her desk and showed it to James. “Channel 19 plans to run clips from the show on their evening news program as well. I’m hoping to gain a few more clients from the deal so that I can keep up with the cost of tuition.”
As James examined the photograph of Dr. Ruth’s three sons, who all resembled NFL linebackers, he wondered whether he should warn Dr. Ruth about Paulette’s waspish manner. The nutritionist, a petite brunette with lovely skin and glistening blue-green eyes, was markedly gentle and soft-spoken in comparison to Paulette Martine. James hated the idea that Paulette might browbeat Dr. Ruth in front of thousands of television viewers. “Well, I’ll definitely tune in,” he said. “But look out for Paulette. She’s got a rather venomous tongue.”
Dr. Ruth
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