Fat Dad Club, part 3

BOONY

‘Penny needs her books for today.’

‘I’ve already packed them. They’re in her backpack.’

‘Well, she needs her lunch made. I haven’t got time to deal with it.’

‘I know, I’m just about to start her sandwiches now.’

‘Cos I need to get my steps in - since you aren’t coming out jogging anymore - before I talk with New York.’

‘I know,’ Boony said, not looking up from chopping tomatoes into little wedges the way their daughter Penny, who was fussing with her school uniform upstairs, preferred.

‘I don’t know why you’re still carrying on with that absurd club,’ Gus came back to this subject multiple times a day now. ‘They’re clearly a bad influence. I’m here sweating my ass off to get in shape and you’re getting fatter by the day.’

‘They’re good guys,’ Boony retrieved lettuce from the fridge, and cheese. ‘You should give them another chance.’

‘You should give them up!’

Gus huffed about the kitchen, not doing much of anything while his husband calmly sliced cheese.

(I don’t want to stop), Boony thought to himself. (I like it. I like eating what I want. I like it a lot, in fact.)

‘She’s gonna be late if you don’t hurry up with those sandwiches,’ Gus continued at him. ‘I can’t take her to school because I’ve got to get jogging before New York calls.’

‘You said.’

‘The whole production’s falling apart up there,’ Gus continued, stretching and checking his Apple Watch. ‘They can’t cope without me, I knew they couldn’t. They basically need me to come and save the whole play.’

‘You said.’

Gus sighed loudly. ‘We never should have come to this provincial little hole of a town, I said that all along.’

‘It’s best for Penny,’ Boony reminded him while he wrapped the sandwiches in foil. ‘Maupinton has the best school for her needs.’

Another topic that came up ad infinitum. It didn’t seem to matter to Gus that Boony had also secured an excellent teaching position at Penny’s school. Only that -

‘If you hadn’t given up on writing, we could’ve stayed in New York. You would’ve gotten a publishing deal by now and we’d be way better off.’

They already lived in a 3 bedroom detached house on the leafier side of Maupinton, a car each, and far more space than they’d had back in NY.

‘There’s no guarantee of that,’ Boony replied as he stowed Penny’s Big Brain Butterfingers lunchbox into her school bag. ‘It’s hard to crack into getting science fiction published. Teaching was a sensible option, and the school pays well.’

‘I’m already late,’ Gus shook his partner’s responses off. ‘I’ve got to get going. Tell Penny I told her to have a good day.’

‘I will.’

Boony drove up to the school facade to drop Penny off. She was nowhere near the age to be embarrassed by her dad yet, and Boony smiled watching her trot merrily up to the double doors, her oversized backpack swinging this way and that.

He took the car around to the teachers parking lot at the rear of the campus, and unbuckled his now substantial bulk, stepping out.

Two seniors were sat on a step by the rear entrance, pretending they hadn’t just been smoking a joint as soon as they saw Boony.

‘Hey now, shouldn’t you two be getting to class?’ He deployed the friendly/authoritarian teacher voice he’d been developing naturally since starting here, paired with a thin, knowing smirk.

They got up and brushed their behinds; one of them coughed and they both giggled.

‘Yes Sir.’

Boony let out a small laugh, feeling it quake his belly, wobbling all the way up through his blossoming man-boobs and quivering the double chin he’d been cultivating for some time now. He enjoyed the feel of this; a full-bellied laugh, rippling out across his whole body. It felt… homely.

As they pushed at the doors and headed down the hall, one of the senior students said in a low tone, ‘Mr Seung’s getting fat!’

And then Boony heard the other reply, ‘You mean fatTER!’ And the pair of them broke into yet more giggles.

Boony simply stood in the doorway, feeling a flush bloom in his cheeks. But this was not from embarrassment.

It was something else. A feeling inside himself that had been slowly working its way to the surface ever since Fat Dad Club started, perhaps it had even lain dormant before that; there all along, just waiting to emerge.

He enjoyed people noticing his size.

Fat Dad Club fell on a Saturday this time, so it was suggested they head to one of the bars along Maupinton’s ‘Golden Strip’ - an area of town overlooking the lake, filled with watering holes of both the upmarket and sweat-and-sawdust variety, alongside a number of food trucks and pop-ups pumping out worldly, flavorful aromas. It was a lively part of town.

Joe suggested a place called ‘Nola’s’ since they knew him there.

‘I used to drum here with my band back in the day,’ he told the other dads as they rocked up to the counter.

‘You were in a band? That’s awesome,’ Boony commented, taking his beer with thanks. Gus had already left for New York and Penny was with her grandparents for the weekend, no doubt spoiling her at this very moment.

‘What kind of music did you play, José?’ Henry asked, also receiving his glass graciously.

‘Ever play any bossa nova?’ Carl inquired. ‘That’s my favorite.’

‘It was more like ska, mixed in with a little metal, you know?’ Joe made a jokey ‘devil horns’ gesture and rocked his head some.

Boony noticed Joe’s ballgut was bigger than ever, like a heavy, bobbing balloon, all tight and round, much of it on public display. He wondered if Joe had thought to buy himself bigger clothes yet; it sure didn’t seem like it.

And Henry and Carl were larger too, the former now rounder and thicker looking, fat bulging around his waist and chin; even his hands looked chubbier. Carl, conversely, had taken on a more flabby look, meatier rolls at his sides, moobs beginning to cascade outwards and sidewards; it added to his already strong dadness.

If Boony was being honest with himself, it was kind of a relief to be here without Gus, as much as he loved his husband - he could just enjoy Fat Dad Club guilt-free. He could relax around these guys.

He had the thought, (I can just be myself), which struck him as odd, or new, or… something.

Was he not being himself at any other time…?

A couple of beers in…

‘Alright, best worst dad-joke,’ Joe squeezed Carl’s shoulder and pointed the head of his bottle into his squidgy stomach. ‘Carl, you first. Go.’

Carl’s funny chuckle reminded Boony of some cartoon character from yesteryear, like Popeye or someone. It never failed to put a smile on his face.

‘Alright, let me think… let me think…,’ Carl began, patting Joe’s arm in return and sipping on Heineken. ‘Well, you got the classic - when they tell you they’re hungry, you go ‘Hi Hungry, I’m Dad!’’

Boony hadn’t heard this one before, and laughed while the others groaned. ‘I’m saving that,’ he chortled, enjoying the sheer stupidity of it.

‘Keep ‘em coming, dudes, haha,’ Joe replied, swigging. ‘See, I’m still new to this whole dad-thing. I gotta learn the ways, haha.’

‘I told my class this one…,’ Boony started with a grin. ‘I gotta make sure I don’t mess it up. Okay… Where did I learn how to make a banana split? At Sundae School, haha.’

‘Good grief, that is wonderfully terrible,’ Carl told him as the others groaned even louder.

‘My students made that exact same sound, haha.’

Boony was getting into this.

‘I have one, I have one,’ said Henry on his third beer. ‘If they asked ‘Dad, did you get a haircut?’ I’d tell them, ‘No, I got them all cut!’’

Each of the fat dads cringed and snorted with laughter at this.

‘Oh, that is a special kind of awful, haha!’ Carl screwed up his face.

Joe raised both arms and did a mock-worship kinda thing.

‘I bow down to the Master, haha!’

Henry looked quite pleased with himself.

Then Joe asked, ‘More beers for the bellies, gentlemen?’

Five beers in…

‘Boony, it is SO good to see you coming out of your shell more,’ Henry rested his fat and surprisingly weighty hand on Boony’s shoulder.

‘Please don’t, uh, take it the wrong way,’ Carl added, swaying ever so slightly on the spot, leaning into Joe a little for support, ‘but it’s just good to get to know you, without… uh…’

Without Gus. It was obvious what the next words were going to be.

‘It’s okay,’ Boony replied. ‘I don’t take it the wrong way. And thanks, you guys.’ He lifted his beer, which they each mimicked in support.

‘And it’s like - it’s fine for couples to do stuff separate anyway sometimes, you know?’ Joe had been going at a faster pace on the drink than the others. His stomach had taken on a drum-like appearance, filled to the brim with beer, all tight and shiny. ‘Like me and my wife, we’re allowed one night every couple weeks just for ourselves, right? She goes off with her girl friends, they do like a girl’s night out kinda deal…’ He looked around proudly to the fat dads. ‘And I’ve got you guys. My Fat Dads. Fucken amen to that.’

The dads saluted their drinks again.

‘Well…,’ Boony began, already feeling guilt before even completing the sentence. ‘It’s kinda nice to be out… without Gus… just sometimes…’

Henry inclined his head, and overshot slightly, blinking. ‘There’s nothing wrong with that, my friend. Nothing wrong.’ All the beer had swollen his midsection too. Henry’s usually impeccable suit had come undone at the jacket, and silver-haired belly-flesh was revealing itself between the buttons of his shirt, his tie long dispensed with. This was the most informal he’d appeared thus far.

‘Okay, fuck it, I’m just gonna say it, man,’ Joe suddenly piped up louder, addressing Boony. ‘Why do you let Gus treat you so bad?’

(Oh…)

There was quiet among them for a moment.

Boony supposed he should have felt shocked. But did he actually feel that? Was this in any way surprising, really?

He didn’t know how to respond.

‘I don’t wanna berude - be rude or anything,’ Carl also weighed in, ‘but it’s hard not to notice the way he talks to you, pushes you around, even.’

(Was it really that bad?)

‘I don’t know…,’ Boony said. ‘He’s a good guy, really. He just gets… frustrated, I guess, and then…’

‘And then he takes it out on you?’ Henry asked after another large gulp.

Boony wanted to say "He just hasn’t put his best foot forward", or "You just haven’t seen his good side", but the truth of it was - he’d been saying these things for years. Excusing Gus for so long, the responses had become automatic. "He’s a sweet guy, you just haven’t gotten to know him yet".

But was that true anymore? It had been, once. Back when they’d met at college. But those days felt a very long time ago now. Longer than Boony had realized. Because he never let himself realize.

He drank on, and slowly found himself nodding, saying nothing.

‘Listen, dude, I’m sorry,’ Joe said. ‘I’m just spouting my big stupid mouth off. Don’t listen to me, Boonster. I’m sure it’s all good.’

‘We just want to see you happy,’ Carl went on. ‘That’s all.’

Twelve beers in…

‘You guys,’ Joe slurred, a tattooed arm around both Carl and Henry, head lolling, ‘are amazing, you know that?’

‘You’re amazing, Joe,’ Carl responded slowly. ‘You are. You showed us… You showed us…’

‘How to be fat’n’happy,’ Henry waggled his finger knowingly. ‘Yessir, that’s it…’

Boony smiled on and let the warm glow take his cheeks, feeling oh so much beer swish and swill in his rubbery, full stomach. The shirt beneath his sweater was untucked, tails flailing, belly peeking; not one fig did he give.

‘I’m so… so, like… proud of you guys, y’know that?’ Joe drawled on. ‘You’rembracing thhhh… the dadbods…!’

They all nodded and shuffled to right themselves, still swigging the beers down in placid merriment, the lone remaining patrons of ‘Nola’s’.

‘Like, just look - look - look at Carl here, man,’ Joe continued, blinking each eye independently. ‘Youlook amazzzzing, dude…! Look… Look…’

He was motioning for Carl to peel up his straining polo, which, surprisingly, Carl did without hesitation. The belly beneath was proudly swollen, bulging, jiggling, and the fat dads each cheered.

‘Thasssyou…!’ Carl replied, nodding drunkenly back at Joe and patting his exposed dadly girth. ‘Itsss thanks t’you!’

Henry burped, looking unsure whether to feel sheepish or just plow through it. ‘Thanks to José!’

He lifted his glass for the hundredth time that evening.

‘C’mon, Colonel,’ Joe goaded him with a wonky grin. ‘Show us the goods… It’sss… your turn, man…’

And so Henry picked at the bottom buttons of his white shirt now speckled with amber larger stains, and the dads went, ‘Ohhhhh….’ in rising pitch and volume like an expectant crowd at a ball game.

The buttons practically flew off, so incredibly tight had they been. Henry’s hairy pink gut came bouncing outward, and the group’s cheer went up, ‘Yyyyeeeaaahhh!!!’

Joe pointed his beer at Henry, sloshing it all over the place. ‘Look at this big - this big handsome motherfucker…!’

Henry raised his beer right above his head, his glasses halfway down his face. ‘I’m a big handsome motherfucker!’

Boony laid his hand on Henry’s arm. ‘Damned right!’

‘Goddamned right!’ Joe echoed. ‘Go, Boony, go! Don’t holdout on uss….’

‘’K,’ Boony blinked and giggled and they all laughed. He pulled up his sweater, needing a few tries, then peeled up the shirt beneath, knowing the buttons would only best his drunken fingers. His large, beer-stretched belly poked happily out, protruding under the bar lights. Another cheer went up. More salutations. Boony gave his gut a contented pat and a rub. ‘You showed usthe way, Joe,’ he said, grinning like an idiot, feeling thoroughly flushed with happiness and alcohol.

And then Joe let his own booze-inflated dad-belly out - not that it took much coaxing. The growing ball of skin looked magnificent, like a perfect sphere grafted to Joe’s otherwise defined body. It rocked with the volume of booze plied into it.

‘C’mon, Fat Dads,’ Joe drawled. ‘Get into it…’

And he pressed his blimp of a gut into the middle of the group, joined by Carl, then Boony, then Henry, all of them forming a curious clover of flesh as they pressed into one another.

‘FAT DAD CLUB!’ Joe yelled, then howled like a wolf. ‘I fuckin’ love you guys!’