Fountain of Death(88)

“Miss Dubroff?” Dessa asked, sticking her head through the doorway. The office was empty. It was also incredibly tiny. Dessa was going to choke to death if she had to sit in there. She backed out into the hall.

“It’s Ms. Carter, isn’t it?” a voice behind her said. “I’m sorry I’m late. I’ve been running late all day.”

Dessa Carter turned around, prepared to find One Of Those Women, the kind of woman she called in her mind a Career Woman Barbie. Perfect hair. Perfect clothes. Perfect makeup. Perfect body. All of that accompanied by the unshakable conviction that any woman on earth could be a Career Woman Barbie, too, if she only really worked at it.

The woman at the other end of the hall was not a Career Woman Barbie. Her hair was in pretty good shape. Her makeup was flawless. Her clothes were nothing spectacular. It was her body that disqualified her. Claudia Dubroff, Dessa Carter realized, was a good fifty pounds heavier than Dessa had ever managed to get herself.

She was also shorter.

Dessa Carter turned to look at the other woman full face. Claudia Dubroff stopped in her tracks and stared. Dessa felt herself start to smile. Then she felt herself start to laugh. Claudia Dubroff started to laugh, too.

“Oh, dear,” Dessa Carter said.

“Oh, I know,” Claudia Dubroff said. “Were you worried about what I’d think of you?”

“Petrified,” Dessa Carter said.

“I was worried about what you’d think of me, too. You wouldn’t believe the kind of reactions I get.”

“I bet you get lectured once a week on how you shouldn’t try to solve other people’s problems until you’ve solved the ones you’ve got yourself,” Dessa said.

“Oh, yes,” Claudia Dubroff said. “I also get offered diets. By strangers on the street. People just walk up and hand me some diet book they’ve been reading.”

“People just walk up and tell me I’ve got to do something about myself,” Dessa said. “Or else they won’t talk to me at all. Saleswomen in stores are the worst.”

“I always have a problem with waitresses in restaurants. They act like I’m not there. It’s as if anybody who’s as fat as this shouldn’t actually allow herself to eat anything.”

“As if you should go on rations of bread and water until you got thin,” Dessa agreed.

“As if there must be something really wrong with you if you aren’t ashamed of yourself,” Claudia Dubroff said. “That’s the worst of it. They’re always expecting you to be ashamed of yourself. I belong to a fat liberation support group, by the way. Do you think you’d be interested?”

“I don’t know,” Dessa said. “I’ve just started going to the Fountain of Youth Work-Out. I like it there.”

“Isn’t it terribly expensive?”

“I’m trying to figure out a way for my insurance to pay for it.”

“Oh, that shouldn’t be any problem,” Claudia Dubroff said. “That’s just the kind of thing insurance companies like to pay for.”

“Don’t you find it incredibly claustrophobic in this office?” Dessa Carter said.

The two women turned and looked into Claudia Dubroff’s tiny office. To Dessa, it looked even smaller now than it had when she had first seen it. It looked more crowded, too. It was a very neat office. The books were in their proper places on the shelves. The file cabinet drawers were neatly closed. Except for a single file lying in the middle of it, the desk was clear of papers. The furniture looked too small. How did Claudia Dubroff sit on these chairs without half-falling off?

“Well,” Claudia Dubroff said, “I suppose we could go down to the lounge. It’s supposed to be for staff only, but at this time of the evening there won’t be anyone there to notice. And the chairs are bigger there.”

“All right,” Dessa said.

Claudia hurried into the office and picked up the file in the middle of the desk. Then she hurried out again, file in hand.

“I’ve researched all these alternatives for long-term nursing home care for your father,” she said. “I don’t know if you’re going to like any of them, but you might as well know what’s available. Isn’t Fountain- of Youth the place where they’ve had all those poisoning murders?”

“Only two,” Dessa told her. “Or maybe three, if you count Traci Cardinale. Except that she isn’t dead.”

“Oh, I know,” Claudia said. “She’s right here. Upstairs in Ward six. Do you know her?”

“Yes,” Dessa replied. “Yes, I do.”