Free Fit To Be Dead (An Aggie Mundeen Mystery Book 1) by Nancy G. West Page A

letter.
      
    Dear Aggie,
      
    My adorable baby is a year old. I, however, am not adorable, having gained thirty pounds since he was born. The fatter I get, the more depressed I become. The more depressed I become, the more I eat. Can you help me?
      
    Fat in Pflugerville
      
    It was hard to think, but I started writing.
      
    Dearest Mom in Pflugerville,
      
    You’re not alone. One study showed 14-25% of women are at least eleven pounds heavier one year after delivery. Postpartum depression is common (10-15%) and this can act as a barrier to weight loss...
      
    I put the letter aside. Stats wouldn’t help. Pflugerville Mom knew she was depressed and overweight. I was in no condition to give advice.
    I staggered to bed for a nap. My last thought before falling asleep was that, having missed Dr. Carmody’s second class, I’d probably fail Aspects of Aging and chalk up an F.

Nine

      
    When I woke an hour later, I lay on my leopard bedspread and gazed at streaks the afternoon sun cast on my ceiling. The fading light made me think of Chicago’s winters.
    After Aunt Novena and Uncle Fred died, I was on my own. Lester and I had planned to marry, but when I got pregnant, he skipped out. I was eighteen, penniless and alone. The one flimsy barrier between me and starvation was the bank job I’d recently secured. How could I care for a baby? My bank didn’t provide childcare at work. I managed to transfer to a branch bank in the suburbs where I worked until my daughter was born. Then I placed her for adoption.
    I rose and paced the room, my heart aching again from giving her up. When she was fifteen, I learned she’d died in a freak accident. Clutching the windowsill, I blinked wet eyes at the disappearing sun. I’d done my best for my baby girl, giving her life and sacrificing my heart to place her in a loving environment. But I’d never see her again. I banged my fist against the sill.
    Holly had suffered a senseless catastrophe. I couldn’t blame myself for her or my daughter’s tragedies, but what happened to them made me look hard at my life. I tried to help Dear Aggie’s readers stay healthy and young, but was that enough? I criticized egocentric club members, but hadn’t I been totally consumed with improving my own body? My motivation to help others grew largely out of my fear of growing old.
    I flopped on the edge of my bed. Maybe I should stop dwelling on myself. Aunt Novena would have reminded me that focusing on my shortcomings led nowhere.
    Curiosity usually got me into trouble, but maybe I could put my inquiring mind to good use. Wasn’t seeking truth a higher calling than helping people stay young? Wasn’t seeking truth the same as sleuthing? With a little snooping, maybe I could find out who wanted Holly dead.
    My feet itched. With my determination rising like floodwater, I clomped to the bathroom and scoured my teeth. I would find out who’d wanted to kill Holly Holmgreen. If I had to socialize with perfect women and egotistical men and punish my body on metal machines to smoke out the person who wanted to kill that girl, my agony would be worth it.
    I marched to the living room and paced around the sofas. Holly had suffered more than enough. If I could unmask her attacker and uncover his motive, I could find redemption for the sad girl who made questionable choices but harbored no malice. Exposing Holly’s enemy would be therapy for me. My monument to my daughter. The quest might even revive my faith.
    I felt ready to help the depressed mom who’d written me.
      
    Dearest Pflugerville Mom,
      
    Tell your favorite doctor you’re depressed. They have great medicines for postpartum depression that increase the efficiency of the chemical messenger, serotonin, in your brain. These meds lift your mood. You’ll feel hopeful enough to begin exercising. A side effect of exercise is WEIGHT LOSS. You go girl!
      
    Been there,
    Aggie
      
    Writing Pflugerville Mom made me feel better.