"How's the gym?" Nora asked, idly stirring the straw in her choco-caramel milkshake. She wished she hadn't let him order it for her. Some traditions should be changed, she had decided, but she was already halfway through this calorific, creamy beverage and hating every second of enjoying it.
"Gym's great. Business is steady," Adrian answered after swallowing his big bite of greasy burger. It wasn't a cheat day, since he didn't bother with those any more and just let himself indulge every now and then. He had kept a controlled diet for most of his life anyway and continued to do so. He didn't offer much more about work than that, assuming his daughter was politely making conversation since this session of Nora and Adrian Seaburys' weekly lunches had been rather quiet. She never was all that interested in his fitness hobby-turned-profession.
"Still training?" she asked, but contemplating her milkshake and not sparing her father more than a glance.
"Just my usual routine," he replied, dipping his fries into the smeared dollop of ketchup on the paper. Just a single packet. No need for excess. "I stopped being a PT a while ago."
He watched his daughter nod and ate quietly for a few more oblivious seconds. Adrian would have looked young for his age if not for the wiry salt and pepper color running through his trim head of hair, and the crows feet when he smiled. He was clean shaven and muscled and Nora always felt like a blob next to him. "Is something up?" he had to ask. They didn't often have super lively conversations but she seemed especially down today. Low energy, he would say. "Milkshake not good?"
Nora looked up then, feeling her cheeks heat despite her father's completely innocent question.
"It's fine," she lied, dropping the straw. Then she frowned at herself and pushed the tall metal cup away. "Actually, no. I shouldn't have gotten it." Adrian raised an eyebrow. Ah. "I'm trying to cut down."
"Nonsense," her father responded quickly. "You look great. You look healthy." At that, Nora gritted her teeth. Healthy. She never understood why he used that word like that. Just say fat.
"I'm overweight, dad," she said, trying to tamp down her unreasonably rising anger. Adrian scoffed. He only ever saw the prettiest creature on earth when he looked at his daughter.
"That's just a bit of baby fat, Nora," he said, ever the reassuring father.
"I'm twenty-eight."
"Well you look awesome," stated Adrian, as if that was the end of that. He took another bite of his burger, then slowed down his chewing at the glare he saw from the younger Seabury.
"Dad, you run a gym. You know what 'healthy' should look like," she reminded him. It was Adrian's turn to frown and he started wiping his fingers with a handful of napkins.
"Exactly," he said, leaning back in the booth. It was hard to make a full assessment with the baggy layers Nora tended to wear, but he had enough experience to make an educated guess. "What are you about a hundred and fifty pounds? At your height? That's maybe a little over BMI but eh that stuff is whatever. Trust me you're not fat."
"A hundred and fi-" Nora couldn't believe the man would just blurt out a number like that and plough on. "Oh my god nevermind." She wanted to bury her head in her arms on the table but just stared at her half eaten meal instead. She had lost her appetite, which was a good thing in her mind.
"Nora, what's the matter really?" her father tried, and she looked up into kind blue eyes. She sighed and tried to push the last thirty seconds out of her mind.
"Nothing dad," she said, self-esteem notwithstanding. "I was just... I actually wanted to ask you for help. Y'know, get me training. Help me get me a... beach body." There was a puzzled blink returned.
"Beach body? Honey you're already gorgeous!" her dad went on wholeheartedly. Adrian really did think his daughter was the most beautiful woman in the world, which he guessed was maybe what a father was always meant to think but he was confident that he wasn't being biased. Nora was not convinced, well aware of the potential partiality.
"Dad," she started again, teeth gritted. "Are you going to help me or not?" There were mixed emotions in Adrian now. Perhaps over the years, knowing how disinterested his daughter had been in pursuing athletics or focusing that much on fitness, but was otherwise perfectly healthy, he had built up an automatic response to any doubts about her physical appearance. He showered her with unyielding support and praise, always. When Anne had died he might have overcorrected in that regard, but his daughter was smart and pretty and healthy. He never knew how else to help and was honestly amazed how capable she turned out with him as the bumbling single father.
Now, suddenly, after years of not caring that Nora didn't care about the one thing he was an expert in, she was asking for his help.
"Of course!" he snapped, surprising them both with his quick excitement. He tempered himself but couldn't completely control the wide grin on his face. "You'll always be gorgeous to me though."
Nora rolled her eyes and was regretting her decision almost immediately after his acceptance, but not enough to change her mind again.
****
Nora regretted buying the outfit. It was tight but comfortable, and she looked awful in it. She wished she had a clean t-shirt to cover herself with. She glared at her stupidity in the mirror. A sports bra? Really? She knew she wasn't obese by any stretch, but she still hated her body. She hadn't been 'slim' since before puberty but still. She pulled at her love handles. She hated that name as much as she hated seeing them. Cutesy and obscene at the same time. What was it meant to insinuate? Bits of flab to hang onto while you got fucked?
She shook her head, trying to dislodge negative thoughts because she knew they were draining. She turned, twisting a little at the waist to test her flexibility. At least the tights did make her legs look a bit better. The compression made her feel more shapely than just a shape. But she knew that was just an illusion too. She sighed.