Slim to None Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Epilogue

  About The Author

  Published Internationally

  By

  OneTrueDestiny Press, LLC

  Copyright 2020

  All Rights Reserved

  Terms of Service Agreement

  The purchaser of this book shall in no way alter, reproduce, or redistribute this Title without express permission from the Author

  Other Titles by A.H. Shelton

  Surrogate

  For Keeps: A Surrogate Novel

  Sentinel: A Surrogate Novel

  The Pharmacy

  Special Acknowledgements

  In Memory of Bella, CeCe and Niko Watts

  Three precious little ones, taken much too soon

  For Carrie Carter Roberts – I miss you, my friend, more than words can express

  For Donnie Curry – cancer took away your presence, but not your memory from us

  ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  This one’s for all the big girls,

  who have never felt good enough,

  who have always been stuck in

  the ‘friend zone,’

  who have always been okay with being just

  ‘one of the guys,’

  and who deserve so much more than

  you are given.

  You are beautiful

  Let your light shine, my lovelies!

  You are amazing!

  Special Appreciation

  A shout-out to the fans of Surrogate, For Keeps, Sentinel, and The Pharmacy – ya’ll are what keeps me going!

  To my fellow cancer-survivors, bald is beautiful, and chemo is for bad asses.

  Suited up, and ready for battle –

  We are WARRIORS!

  For more information on Ovarian Cancer, or if you are having any issues, no matter how small, please talk with your doctor immediately,

  don’t put it off.

  This cancer doesn’t scream – it whispers.

  Chapter One

  Kassidy

  I love him…oh my God, how I love him. So much that it hurts. I can't get him out of my mind…love isn't supposed to hurt, right? Oh wait, that's when the other person loves you back - requited love, yeah that's it.

  I can't give him what he wants. I can give him love - love like he's never experienced before. Love that would make him feel like he’s a Greek god, and I, a lowly mortal, who would worship at the temple that is his body, and drink of the wine that flows from within.

  I can give him kindness, intelligence and humor. I can, and do, make him laugh. God how I love his laugh. How his eyes crinkle and shine. It’s the sound I’d want to hear as I enter the gates of Heaven – it’s that amazing to me.

  But I can't give him sexy, and I can't give him beautiful. That's what guys want, you know…and I certainly don't have that to offer. I could make love to him for hours - would die to make love to him for hours, just to know that I've done one thing to make him happy, but I don't look good enough for him to want me to. How sick is that - all guys think about is sex, and he doesn't even want THAT from me, because I'm just too physically unappealing. It's sad…it's so, so sad. But love…yeah, that I've got.

  All this is hypothetical, of course. It’s not like I’ll ever have the nerve to tell him how my soul bleeds when I look at him with another girl. How the cerulean depths of his eyes make me feel as if I’ve dived from a cliff in Antigua, and I never want to resurface…

  My name is Kassidy – Kassidy Kane. Sounds cool, right? I’m not even in the same zip code as cool. I live alone with my cat, Niko, and I work at the rug mill here in my hometown of Clayton, North Carolina. And well, that’s about it. The only reprieve from my stagnant life is my best friend, Melanie. She’s the yin to my yang. She’s my person.

  I am the product of divorce – my daddy lives with his new, young wife in Irvine, California. He loves to Facetime with me and tell me how their business is going. They sell fat-burning products, and are making millions, because well, apparently, they work. There are about a billion testimonials that speak for themselves, and my daddy and Shelly, his uber-thin, sexy wifey love to try to sell me on it.

  “C’mon Kas, what would be the harm in just trying it?” Daddy says, trying to seduce me into buying their product. “Just think about how good you’ll look once you start taking it.”

  “This stuff’s not even approved by the FDA yet,” I tell him, shaking my head in disbelief. “So, what – you wanna use me as just another one of your Guinea pigs?”

  “Yet,” my daddy says emphatically. “The FDA hasn’t approved us yet. But that doesn’t mean it won’t happen, and soon. We’re on the brink of solving the world’s obesity problems, and it will only cost them fifty-five ninety-five, plus shipping. And how can you call our loyal customers, ‘Guinea pigs?’ These people are losing weight like crazy, and it’s all because of Sexy Slim Max. You won’t believe what they’re saying,” he says excitedly.

  “That it makes their blood pressure spike? Causes fainting and dizzy spells? Chronic diarrhea? Shall I go on?” I asked, becoming angry. Why would my own father want me to risk my health just to buy this crap?

  “Those were just the clinical trials,” he says wearily, rubbing his forehead. Daddy always does this when he’s telling half-truths…he just doesn’t know that I’ve caught on to his little quirk. “All the bugs have been worked out, and everything is amazing.”

  “‘Worked out?’ Maybe if these people had worked out, they wouldn’t need your stupid product,” I said snippily. “Maybe if I worked out, I wouldn’t be the fat daughter that you’re so ashamed of that you’d risk my life just to get me to lose weight with your crappy pills!”

  “Kassidy, that’s enough,” Daddy says, his face turning an angry red. “I won’t have you undermining what’s taken us years to develop…all our tireless work and dedication…”

  “You wanna know what really sucks, Daddy?” I ask bitterly. “Your dedication used to be to me, your little girl,” my voice cracking and eyes welling with tears. “If you’d used some of that ‘tireless work and dedication’ toward building a stronger relationship with your own daughter, rather than a bunch of strangers…you know what, never mind. I gotta go. Enjoy your money. Go buy Shelly some bigger boobs or something. I’m sure last year’s models are already worn out.” And with that, I closed out the chat without even letting him get a word in edgewise. The look on his face, though, was priceless.

  Melanie and I meet up at our fa
vorite ice cream place after I make a call to her and indicate that I want to either slit my wrists or my father’s throat, and don’t really care which.

  Being my best friend and all, Melanie knows that nothing brings me down from the ledge quicker than a few scoops of Death by Chocolate…which was much preferable to the death of my parental unit or myself.

  “I mean, who the hell does he think he is?” I ask through a mouthful of chocolate orgasm. Whoever invented chocolate must have been either the devil or Eros, because it induces feelings of sinful self-pleasure, as close as you could get without touching yourself. “To tell me that I’ll be happier if I’m thin? That’s like me telling him that he’d be happier if he were still married to Mama!”

  “I dunno, Kas,” Melanie begins. “He might be onto something there. You know how you hate the sight of yourself in the mirror, having your picture taken, and tryin’ on new clothes. There’s gotta be a connection there,” says my bestie who right now is making me feel my worst.

  She’s right, though…I am just too ashamed – and too delighted by the chocolate exploding in my mouth, to admit it.

  “But Mel, a fat pill? I mean, what if it makes me horrendously sick? What if I wind up in the hospital? I don’t have insurance – plus, I’d lose my job…I really don’t need that right now,” shaking my head at the possibilities. “It’s just too risky.”

  “Kas, this is your daddy we’re talking about. Do you really think he’d turn you onto something that would kill you – just to sell a bottle of pills, and certainly not just to make you look the way he thinks you should look!”

  “Why not? Breast implants can be dangerous, but he sure paid for Shelly to get them – huge ones at that,” I said with a grimace. “Those were for him, you know…like disgusting new toys.” I shuddered. I absolutely did not need that image stuck in my head.

  “Not so much anymore,” says the ever-informed Melanie Shepard, fact-checker. “The old ones were made of silicone, which was indeed dangerous and which, when leaking, did cause cancer in many women,” she says smugly. “But the ones today are filled with saline – salt-water. They’re much safer.”

  “Well, thank you, Barbara Walters, for that informative expose’ on the life of a breast implant,” I say in a snide tone. “Besides, it’s easy for you to say I should take a pill to lose weight – you’ve never had a weight problem in your life!”

  “Oh, here we go,” Melanie says, crossing her arms over her chest. “So, you’re really gonna go there? You know better than anybody why I don’t have a weight problem!” she says, becoming more than a little irritated with me. She has a right to be.

  I failed to mention a very important detail – while Melanie meets up with me for my ice cream binges, she sits and watches me eat, whilst sipping on a water. You see, Melanie has extreme food allergies – there are more things she can’t eat than what she can…therefore, she’s never had to worry about gaining weight, since she can’t indulge in pretty much anything that I eat in front of her. And now I’ve thrown it in her face. What a shitty friend I turned out to be.

  “Mel, I’m really sorry,” I begin, reaching over and covering her hand with mine. Surprisingly, she doesn’t jerk away. You see, Melanie is also a germaphobe, and she hates being touched. She tolerates me hugging her or grabbing her hand in excitement, and today is one of those days. Being a germ freak in a small, Southern town is pretty frustrating for her, as one can imagine. Dust just seems to manifest right before your eyes around here. “You know I didn’t mean it. I’m just so damned frustrated. Of course, I wanna be thin – or at least average. But at what cost?”

  “Kassidy, do you really think the pills are more dangerous than what you’re doing to your body right now?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. She’s right, but I’m not ready to throw in the towel – or the ice cream scoop, just yet.

  “Can you just drop it, okay? I’m not taking the pills – case closed. I’ll lose the weight in my own way – at my own pace. I don’t have a deadline, and I’m not out to impress anyone.”

  “Says the girl who has heart palpitations and can’t climb a flight of stairs without stopping to rest. Do your thing, Kas…I just don’t wanna be sayin’ ‘I told you so,’ at your funeral.”

  And with that, she gets up and walks back to her car, driving away and leaving me sitting there with chocolate on my mouth, and egg on my face.

  I feel so badly about how my last conversation with Melanie ended, that I call her up later that afternoon and suggest a girl’s night out that same evening. Saturday nights, Joe’s hosts live music – and on this particular night, a band called Remedy, out of Southern Virginia is performing.

  “Hey, they’re pretty good!” I say to Melanie, needing to yell for her to hear me over the music.

  “Yeah they are! A nice change of pace from some of the local garbage bands Joe gets in here!”

  “You mean ‘garage bands’?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

  “No, I mean ‘garbage bands!’” Melanie says with a grin.

  Laughing, I suddenly realize that Lukas Crawford is sitting at the back of the bar with some guys from work. He notices me looking, and flashes me a big ol’ grin, and once again I have to scold myself for wishing that he would ever see anything in me, other than a friend.

  As the Remedy boys bring it down several notches with a slow ballad about Tennessee whiskey, unbelievably, Lukas walks over and extends a hand to me.

  “May I have this dance, ma’am?” he says with a boyish grin.

  I am even more taken by his Southern charm than ever, as Lukas smiles down at me, spinning me every now and then. As he reels me back in, he pulls me extremely close.

  Nervous, my breath catches for a brief moment before Lukas leans down to kiss me gently, his lips brushing mine, teasingly at first, before delving more deeply, his tongue exploring mine.

  My heart is pounding louder than the music as the song ends and Lukas, slow to release me from his embrace, smiles and gently kisses me on my nose.

  My legs are trembling as we walk back to our table, and I try hard to make sure Lukas is not aware of this.

  Worried that things will feel awkward between us after that excruciatingly sensual kiss, I’m pleasantly surprised at how easily Lukas falls right back into our usual playful banter…

  “This band, though!” Melanie says, as I’m left shaking my head in wonder at the voracity of my latest daydream. The song transitions seamlessly from a country ballad to an eighties hit. I nod my head rapidly in agreement. They are damn good.

  Lukas – the real Lukas, actually does make his way to our table, and I’m so certain that he can read my mind, revealing the fantasy that had just taken place, starring himself. He grabs himself a chair, as Melanie and I start engaging him in light-hearted conversation. Great music, handsome, charming company - this night has turned out to be just what I needed, and I cannot wait to see what the future holds.

  Chapter Two

  Kassidy

  When I get wake up the next morning, I have two messages on my machine. I know the technology is outdated, but it’s the only way I can screen calls from my parents throughout the numerous times that I just don’t wanna talk to them.

  One of the messages is from my daddy, of course. I had no doubt that he would try to apologize for making me feel like crap about myself once again. As if I don’t have enough people who are more than willing to fill that position.

  The other call is from my mama. Cringing, I play back the message…

  “Hey honey. Guess you’re not in right now. Just wanted to let you know that I made my famous butterscotch pie today – I know it’s your favorite,” she says in a sing-song voice. “So, listen, why don’t you come over for supper? I made pot roast with all the trimmings, mashed potatoes, yeast rolls with honey butter – all your favorites…okay, well, call me. Love you!”

  My mama and I share a lot. The one thing we share the most is our love for food. Scratch that – our adoration of food. She
gleaned it from her mother before her, due to Grandma Freida being such an amazing cook. I can still remember Sunday dinners and holidays as a child, and the most exciting thing for me wasn’t gifts – it was Grandma’s food. That should have thrown a red flag back at the tender age of five, but everyone thought it was adorable. Southern women do love to cook, and their families love to eat, so it’s a win/win.

  Mothers tell their kids how there are starving children in third-world countries who would love to have the food they left on their plates, and grandmas love to pinch their grandkids’ cheeks and tell them they are gonna hafta fatten them up. I wonder if this is where the story of Hansel and Gretel comes from…grandmas always feeling the need to get some meat on young ones’ bones.

  Mama’s love of food, and the after-effect on her figure is what made Daddy move out, but not before having numerous affairs, which Mama found out about, and which made her eat more, due to depression.

  I can remember when I was twelve, overhearing my parents arguing late at night, waking me from my sleep…

  “So, you’re eating again, I see! After the huge plate you had for supper, I certainly wouldn’t expect to find you up at all hours, eating a plate of leftovers, yet here you are!” my daddy fumed. What he said next broke my mother’s heart – and mine as well.

  “You know, Linda, you used to be the prettiest girl in town when we were in high school. When we were dating, all the guys envied me, and all the girls tried to get at me, just to prove that they could. I didn’t once cheat on you then, because I didn’t ever wanna lose you…but now – I mean, just look at ya! You look like a fat sow. You’re disgusting. Yes, I’ve been unfaithful, many times – I mean, who could blame me? None of the guys from high school or at work, that’s for sure. They pity me, Linda, because I come home to someone who looks like you. God forbid they think I still sleep with you…I’ve made sure to brag about all the women I’ve screwed around on you with, showing them pictures…yeah, they envy me being with those women, but not you – not anymore. I’m packin’ my things in the mornin’. I want a divorce. And wipe your face, you make me wanna vomit!”