Calving Signs – part 2

Terri took the farthest possible seat from her Mother during dinner. The dining room had been decked out with checkered curtains, and adorned with fresh flowers cut out of the garden. There was a new centerpiece.
“And then he turned to us and said “Private Flynn, I know you’re hiding a litter of puppies in this camp, and if I find it, you’re eating them.””
The other boarders burst into laughter. Flynn laughed alongside them.
The big man had a clerical collar on, and slicked back dark hair, but nothing else about him seemed at all like a churchman. So far he had dominated the conversation with stories of his pre-God days in Korea.
The big room was nearly full with tenants. Of the other four, two were solidly-built construction men working on the factory. Two more were young female lawyers or accountants working as support staff. They wore nice ironed blouses and had pulled their hair into business-like buns.
“I felt bad about breaking regs, but the poor thing had just pushed out octuplets when I found her. Found good homes for all of them!”
He gnawed on a leg of fried chicken.
So did Terri.
She was ravenous. The emaciated blonde hadn’t eaten anything after one last morning bowl of cereal in the dorms.
Her Mom’s cooking had dramatically improved.
Previously the microwave had been the centerpiece of her skills. Now she had churned out an entire fried chicken, mountains of dripping mashed potatoes, and a second plate of scalloped spuds “because I had extras.”
Terri inhaled three drumsticks and examined the man who had taken her room. Mom barely sat down, flitting back and forth with dishes. The entire time she had a dumb smile on her face.
“How long ago did you join the Ministry, Reverend Flynn?” One of the lawyers asked. She was a early-30s brunette with calculating eyes.
“Spiritually? Eight years, two-hundred-sixty days. Physically? Got ordained, oh, three years ago. And I got to say, this is an easy town. Lots of people who love the lord. Beautiful church, too. Big thing.”
Reverend Flynn stood up, put his hands on the table, and asked, cheerfully, “Who wants some of my homemade ice cream?”
Five hands went up. Including, Terri was surprised to notice, her own.
* * *
The ice cream had been soft, creamy, and rich. Flynn apparently churned it himself, and had served all of them large mounds. All of them had dug in, including the two svelte female professionals and the young redhead.
It had nuts in it.
Terri slumped in her chair, too full to move, surrounded by greasy plates and a mountain of pots.
Her Mom took the chair next to her. She even wore an apron, a Donna Reed white linen that was nonetheless immaculate.
Terri watched her, suspicious. Her Mom looked… softer… now. The hard lines that had started to crease her face had smoothed themselves out. And she looked, not plump, but definitely filled out in a way difficult to put her finger on.
…Curvier.
“So. Rent,” Terri said, weakly. She couldn’t recall ever eating that much before. What had gotten into her? “I thought we’d start at nothing a month, because I’m your daughter, and because I have no money.”
Anne’s lips assumed the fatigued curl Terri was so used to seeing.
“I’ve thought it through,” she said “and talked it over with Reverend Flynn. He and I think…”
“You talked it over with the Priest? What, is he my Dad?” An awful suspicion grew. “Hey, isn’t he supposed to be celibate, or…”
Anne jerked backwards. Surprise flitted across her face, between the blonde curls. She had even worn a touch of lipstick to dinner. “No! Not at all! Reverend Flynn is… he’s good at listening. That’s his job, Terri.” She settled herself, and recrossed her legs underneath the apron. “He and I think you should be working for your room and board.”
“Working?”
“Chores. He’s been very graciously helping me get the house up to code, but he’s an increasingly busy man.”
“Chores?” Terri felt too full to adequately argue back. She hadn’t eaten a serious dinner in… at least over a month. By the end of her college experience she was living on cheerios and chocolate milk.
“Dishes. Vacuuming. Dusting. To start. That’ll free me up for maintenance and working on the exterior.”
“Dusting?” Terri shifted in her seat. Her ass had sunken into the paisley cushion. “I don’t have to wear an apron, do I?”
“What, this?” Anne looked down. “This is practical. I’ll get one for you, if you want one.”
“No!” Terri opened her mouth to argue. Long, practiced words about the duty of a mother, and that she needed some time to get settled.
All that came out was a mortifying, ice cream-laced burp.
“Good!” Anne said. She stood up and offered an arm to her daughter. Terri took it, hauled herself to her feat. Her legs felt like clumps of rope. “In that case, welcome home!”
* * *
An hour and a half later, Terri stumbled out of the kitchen. Her hands burned from near-scalding water. If she hadn’t already bitten her fingernails to nubs while at college, they would’ve been crushed and torn from scrubbing grease-covered pans.
In a way, it had been nice to try and burn some of the calories. That last bowl of ice cream felt like it had suffused her entire body, padding it with weight.
Her basement—or new bedroom—was the former rec room. The pool table had been stacked against the wall, and the do-it-yourself minibar someone had built was now piled with her old books.
Bed was a mattress on the floor.
Terri shut the door, stripped out of her soap-spattered clothes, and stepped into the bathroom. There was a big mirror on one wall, and she examined herself in it.
Two months avoiding the dining hall, eating only in spare moments, hadn’t been good for her figure. She didn’t need to stretch to see a few ribs poking out, and her hips had turned downright boyish.
“Terri, I got you a new—Terri!”
Her Mom stood behind her, carrying a basket of linens. She stared in shock at her daughter’s skinny body. “What happened to you? You’re.. tiny.”
Terri snatched a towel off the rack and wrapped herself in it. “Thin, Mom. I’m thin. Or slender.”
“Yeah, but not…” she trailed off. Anne had slipped into an old t-shirt, and her own breasts swelled against the fabric. Terri didn’t remember her Mom being so… large.
“Well. Anyway,” Anne said, recovering her newfound poise “You start with the sweeping tomorrow morning.