Free What Pretty Girls Are Made Of by Lindsay Jill Roth

usual, so be on guard.”
    With only a third of her bagel eaten, Helen got up to leave my office, saving the rest of her calories for later.
    “Lots of dysfunction in that family, my dear, lots of dysfunction,” she said, halfway out the door.
    “Hold on.” I stopped her. “You can’t do that to me,” I said with a smile, chiding her gently. “You absolutely cannot just say that and leave. You need to tell me more.”
    Even working so closely with Sally, I knew surprisingly little about her life at this point. The girls didn’t really talk about Sally’s history unless asked, but when you asked, you were always given an earful.
    “I knew this was coming,” Helen said. “Let me get some more coffee and I’ll fill you in.”
    Since it was Thanksgiving week and the studio was empty, Jolie and Carly joined us for the information session.
    “When Sally’s father passed away,” Helen started, “it was like the baton was passed from him to Sally. Sally’s childhood wasn’t normal. And her mother was a bit slow, mentally, and also very heavy.”
    Her tone was diplomatic, but of course there had to be a comment about weight in there—so typical for New Jersey’s Fittest Senior.
    “Sally’s older sister also has cognitive deficiencies, and anyone who has a conversation with her knows that the elevator doesn’t reach the top floor. It’s a sad situation, really.” She paused. “Sally’s father was her biggest fan and really encouraged her to start her own business. And when Sally started making money and her father died, she took on the financial burden of her family. I don’t mean just as a single parent—she takes care of her mother and sister, too. She also has a half brother from her father’s first marriage, with whom she has an on-and-off relationship. He manages a restaurant in the city.”
    “But she doesn’t own anything, right?” Carly asked like she already knew the answer.
    “Just her car. She rents her apartment and pays for whatever needs to be done in her mother and sister’s house.”
    Carly turned to me. “Sally’s mother and sister live together about an hour outside of the city. They’ve lived together since her sister got divorced many years ago.”
    I envisioned lots of cats.
    “Sounds intense,” I said, “but everyone comes from a certain dysfunction.” I certainly did. Mucho family drama on my end. “And Sally has to handle it on her own as a never-married single parent. I couldn’t imagine making the choice to become pregnant as a single forty-year-old woman, like she did.”
    Helen’s story proved that Sally felt incredible pressure from all angles: business owner, caretaker, mother, and daughter. Sally had made the choice, however, to raise a child on her own, live a certain lifestyle, and be a certain kind of businesswoman. She took on a lot, and while it killed me to admit it, I respected her for what she’d accomplished. I couldn’t deny that there were moments when Sally struggled and seemed overwhelmed when I’d have to fight the urge to wrap my arms around her and give her a hug.
    Sally’s weight was another issue, and one I also identified with, having struggled with self-image issues. I understood the aching feeling of disappointment in oneself for looking (or for the perception of looking) fat and the visceral need for chocolate, or in Sally’s case, pretzels. I knew that Sally’s issues were deeply rooted, as she was larger than what was considered obese, and she hated herself for it.
    “Is it true that she’s had a tummy tuck, breast reduction, eyelid surgery, and lap band operation?” Jolie asked. “Seems kind of excessive, don’t you think?”
    Carly jumped in, not missing a beat. “And I heard that she drinks wine like it’s water and her remedy for when we aggravate her is pot.”
    Helen replied, selectively. “When the problem is psychological, unfortunately, nothing keeps you svelte. Why do you think she criticizes how people look and