The Breakaway

by Jennifer Weiner

“The surgery was a tool. I’m the one who has to keep on top of the food, and the exercise. It’s just easier for me to not eat sugar than to try to eat just a little bit, or just once in a while.” “I

The less of Abby there was, the more Eileen liked it. The more Eileen liked her.

Eileen wanted her daughter to shrink herself to fit into the space the world allotted, instead of fighting to change the systems and institutions that wanted women to keep themselves small.

But, just for the record, you did not want what was best for me. You wanted me to be thinner. Those things are not the same.”

She was wondering, not for the first time, if Eileen would have actually preferred an anorexic daughter to a fat one.

And there they were, back at Eileen Stern Fenske’s favorite topic. It was amazing, Abby thought. Just like pop culture buffs could link any actor to Kevin Bacon in fewer than six steps, her mother could swing any conversation around to weight in just two or three.

Maybe he assumed that Abby had been waiting for him, like a piece of luggage he’d never claimed, going around and around on the conveyor belt until he finally came back to fetch it.

All of Eileen’s proposals had two things in common: lots of physical activity and healthy (translation: low-fat, low-carb, low-calorie) meals.

Lizzie’s theory was that men rode their bikes the way they moved through the world—heedless, confident, making it everyone else’s job to get out of their way. Women were more cautious. They followed the rules and were careful about staying to the side of the road, about observing stop signs and traffic lights and calling “On your left!” when they passed. Many men—maybe most men—couldn’t be bothered.

Did Mark hate fat people now that he wasn’t one? Did he have any interest in her now that he could probably have any woman he wanted?

Abby thought she could sense guys giving Mark disapproving looks, like he’d let down the team and had an obligation to be with someone hotter. She definitely noticed girls glaring at her, like she’d stolen something to which she wasn’t entitled or hadn’t earned.

Grilled boneless, skinless chicken breasts, SnackWell cookies, and Lean Cuisine were the staples of Eileen’s table. When she did cook from scratch, it felt like her goal was to remove as much fat, salt, and, subsequently, flavor from any dish she prepared.

“I think that’s half of parenting, especially when they’re older. You just keep showing up.”

Men on the apps with weak chins and receding hairlines, beer guts and bald spots who felt absolutely no compunctions about inboxing her to tell her how much prettier she’d be if she went to the gym, went on a diet, ate less, exercised more. She loathed the idea of more of that.