MOMMA BY MATT L.
CHAPTER ONE /
The local diner in a small, quiet southern town, Albert Cabbage had stopped in as usual to have lunch and visit his favorite waitress, Gretchen O’Dell.
Gretchen’s characteristics and appearance denoting the all-American girl next door façade.
Blonde locks which contoured to her pretty diamond shape face, her dark pink uniform complimenting her slender form but for a small pouch of tummy fat.
Gretchen was sharp as a tack and had a consummate sense of humor, and in many ways seemed out of place in such a mundane community. It was no wonder why Albert found Gretchen all so attractive.
Albert was a tad immature for his 23-years of age. Relatively shy and lacking self-esteem, a dye in the wool momma’s boy who had been picked on through the years due to his weight.
Albert’s chubby face was pleasant enough despite some acne, his blond hair receding while his stout body, particularly his belly, was thoroughly encased in a cocoon of flab.
Yet Albert was kind to a fault, unambiguously forthright and polite.
Albert worked as stock boy at the local hardware store, part time, the remainder of the day or his day off, glued to the TV or playing video games. At 277-pounds, Albert mainly wore overalls or occasionally sweat shirts and jeans, never exactly caring what he looked like unless he was going to see Gretchen.
Tensely awkward, and inexperienced with females, Gretchen O’Dell influenced Albert’s behavior where he actually felt good about himself and brought out some confidence.
Gretchen liked Albert in a purely platonic manner and enjoyed his company. Nothing like the other male customers who would endlessly flirt with her, albeit it was easy to tell Albert was smitten with Gretchen.
Gretchen would appease Albert and willingly converse on his favorite topics, this afternoon the subject included his favorite video games. Gretchen faked interest merely to appease Albert, but she answered honestly when he inquired about her favorites.
“Video games were never my thing, I mean I did play them once in a while when I was younger but I never caught the fever…”
Noticing Albert’s crestfallen face, Gretchen quickly produced a honey of a smile, “…but I admire your enthusiasm for them, I love listening to you talk about gaming.”
Gretchen used a towel to wipe away the excess gravy which spilled unto the counter from Albert’s plate, the big lug was something of a slob but she didn’t really seem to mind.
Albert sat hunched over, a turtle neck mannerism so to speak, his own smile matching Gretchen’s in width, “Shoot! I got the most up to date gaming system! I swear if you had the mind to ease back and get into it, why you’d be totally crazy about gaming!”
Gretchen’s eyes sparkled, smiling with her eyes as well as her lips; she was amused at Albert’s excitement.
She refilled his glass with cola, a spunky bounce to her gait as she brought it over to him.
Albert couldn’t hold back a glance at Gretchen’s breasts while she pushed away her nomadic bangs, for a young woman in such fine shape, she was certainly top heavy.
Gretchen favored Albert with a silly grin, considering the gape as harmless. Well aware of Albert’s type, guys like Albert weren’t lewd but purely curious; not having the same advantages as better looking men.
Albert lived on a region of land called Dunston Flats with his mother, Mabel.
The property included 10 acres of land and a smaller variety of mansion, although most of it in disrepair.
Gretchen leaned over, positioning her elbow on the counter top, using her fist to hold up her chin, “What’s on your agenda for the rest of the evening?”
“I’m off tomorrow so I’m going to sleep late and then watch a science fiction movie marathon, you like science fiction movies?”
“I guess they‘re okay”, Gretchen uttered with a honey of a smile; “I like the original Star Wars, the others not so much.”
“Me too!” Albert said excitedly, hoping to appease his crush.
Gretchen corrected her position yet taking a causal stance behind the counter, one hand over her waist, “I need to check on the other customers, be back in a few.”
Gretchen’s stride had a little more snap than the other waitresses, akin to a physically active young woman who never slowed down for a second.
Upon returning to Albert, he anxiously inquired about Gretchen’s plans after work.
“The usual, I take a hike down Old Mill road, have dinner and read, maybe watch a little TV.”
Albert was ever diligent with his questions, “You like walking? We got lots of land; you can always hike around our property, what you having for dinner? You eat here?”
Gretchen smiled at the laundry list of questions but she gladly answered each one, “Walking keeps me in shape, and maybe one day I’ll check out your property….”
Gretchen discreetly waved Albert over so she could whisper, “The food here doesn’t agree with me, so I use the small stove in the motel room and make myself can spaghetti or chicken pot pie.”
Albert held unto his portly belly as he settled back onto the stool, “That’s no real dinner, Gretchen.
You ought to come over and let my momma make you a fine meal; she’s a right fancy cook and plenty of second helpings.”
Gretchen gazed over Albert’s immensely overweight form, her thoughts could be described as derogatory, “I can see that for sure.”
Yet Gretchen conceded to a more dignified reply, “I appreciate the invite, but currently I wouldn’t make the best company for dinner….”
Yet still, Gretchen wouldn’t intentionally intrude for dinner at Albert’s home no matter how well his mother cooked. Al’s obesity wasn’t per chance; it indicated an unhealthy menu in which Gretchen refused to participate.
“…..though perhaps someday”, Gretchen consciously forged a lie, her twinkling eyes responsible for Albert’s goofy grin.
Albert looked over at the clock on the wall, “Nice talking with’cha Miss Gretchen, I’ll see ya Wednesday!”
Gretchen delicately nodded, “Right!”
Albert’s swagger was anything but graceful; Gretchen negatively wagged her head at the sight of his flabby body jiggling like jell-o.
“Someday”, Albert mumbled to himself while ambling out of the diner.
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Hanson, Kentucky was only accessible through back roads, yet a decent, hardworking community.
Like all small towns there was a main street with the usual shops, VFW hall, filling station, and of course a supermarket and department store.
Hanson’s Diner was called just that, decorated with multicolored lights and a large paper sign over the picture window which simply read - EATS!
Among the crew of waitresses Gretchen stood out due to her age, looks, and seemingly eloquence.
Gretchen was a Northerner but according to the locals, a good one.
Gretchen kept her blond locks moderately short, chiseled features on a gorgeous face, nobody understood why such a beautiful and educated young woman would be working as a waitress, let alone living in such a quiet community. Yet Gretchen simply showed up six months ago looking for work, and she’s been there ever since.
Gretchen’s personality matched her appearance, kind to a fault and a good listener.
Getting along with the other waitresses and customers alike, and if she had just one recognizable flaw, it was that sometimes she exerted an uppity disposition in regards to managing her appearance.
A vanity that at times seemed over the top but hardly to hold a grudge about.
Sabrina Hatton was probably the closest to Gretchen in terms of being a friend. Quite chubby, the same age as Gretchen, Sabrina had married right out of high school and had a total of 4 children.
Gretchen rarely spoke about herself; she indeed focused on Sabrina, talking about everything and everything, swaying the conversations away whenever Sabrina became curious about her.
Sabrina would now and then tease Gretchen about wanting to look like a movie star and if she’s so picky about what she eats, why did she ever move to a community where majority of the females get marry and start to breed early on, racking on some weight while in total domestic bliss.
The best Sabrina got out of Gretchen was that Hanson was just a minor detour until she got things together, and then would move on to bigger and better things in her life.
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Albert had never been out of Hanson his entire life, never even taking a trip to Huxley, a college town only a five hour drive away and the closest thing next to a big city.
Albert’s only real friends the guys who hung at the filing station on Maple Road.
The filling station wasn’t the contemporary mode with a min-mart but simply the place in town where the folks pumped gas and had their cars worked on.
These guys were a decade or more older than Albert, married men who drank beer and mainly talked about five subjects - Sports - Cars - Country music - their glory days in high school - chicks.
Naturally Gretchen was brought up often.
Not that any of these hillbillies would stray from their wives but they could dream.
They accepted Albert as their unofficial mascot, they knew he had a hard time fitting in with people his own age, and they looked after him. Albert didn’t talk much around them; mainly he listened and laughed at their bad jokes.
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