J Stanley - The Battered Body

“Nah,” he muttered with a shake of his head. “It couldn’t be Glowstar. Must be some other elf.” Still, he couldn’t help watching the small red form as it disappeared into the distance. Its plastic face looked very familiar. James knew that come Monday, he’d have to at least mention the sighting to the Fitzgerald brothers. He also knew that they wouldn’t rest until the mystery of the missing elf had been solved.

1 pound butter

1 pound brown sugar

1 pound powdered sugar

1 quart vanilla ice cream, softened

1 tablespoon cinnamon

1 tablespoon nutmeg

1 bottle dark rum

6 ounces boiling water per serving (approximately)

To prepare batter: Melt the butter in a large saucepan over medium heat. Stir in the sugars until they dissolve. Remove from heat and blend in the ice cream, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Pour the mixture into a container and freeze.

To serve: Remove the batter from the freezer. Allow it to soften. Place 2 rounded tablespoons of batter in a coffee mug. Add 1 to 2 tablespoons dark rum. Add approximately 6 ounces of boiling water (more or less depending on the size of the mug) and stir until the batter is melted. Sprinkle with cinnamon, nutmeg, or both. Prepare to feel warm and fuzzy all over.

“I’ve never been thin, Dr. Ruth,” James admitted as he stared at the kind face of Ruth Wilkins, Bennett’s nutritionist. “And I don’t need to look like Brad Pitt. I just want to feel comfortable in the tuxedo I’m wearing to my father’s wedding-in all my clothes, actually. I’d like to be healthy, but not in exchange for eating a bunch of tasteless food for the rest of my life.”

The nutritionist nodded and uncapped her pen, keeping it poised above a yellow legal pad. “You can just call me Ruth, Mr. Henry. ‘Dr. Ruth’ always makes people think of the famous sex therapist, and that’s not quite my area of expertise.” She shrugged self-effacingly, laced her fingers together, and smiled encouragingly. “Why don’t you start off by telling me what kinds of foods you like? And you can be honest with me. I’m not going to pass judgment on what you enjoy eating. I’m not here to ask you to change your tastes in food, but to help you achieve your goals.”

James released 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 returned her family photo to the corner of her desk and nodded. “I’ve watched Madame Martine’s Diva of Dough show several times. I’ll be focusing on the nutritional content of her beautiful cakes, but like I told you, I don’t recommend depriving oneself of desserts or food treats, so Paulette and I shouldn’t find ourselves at odds. After all, life isn’t about eating broccoli. Healthy eating entails choosing a wide variety of foods, including an occasional Twinkie or a bag of salt and vinegar chips.”

Confident that Dr. Ruth could hold her own against Paulette, James asked, “So what do I do now?”

“I’d like you to start a food log. You should write down everything you eat over the course of the day and the calorie amount in each food. Then, write a total for all the calories at the bottom of each day. I’ve written down a couple websites to help you find out how many calories are in the most common foods.” She handed him a piece of paper showing a sample food log and a listing of three website URLs. “I’d also like you to add any exercise you’ve done per day, including walking, weight training, or other cardiac activities. You can deduct those calories from your food total.”

“What about drinks?” James inquired as he glanced at the paper. “I have a bunch of coffee every day.”