**Diary Entry 15th of June**
“Olivia, what about those extra pounds? Isnt that a problem?” Tims mother wouldnt let it go.
“In my opinion, I dont have anyespecially since my future husband doesnt mind. Not everyone has to be a waif or a twig,” Olivia retorted, eyeing Helen and Tims mum with a smirk. The sheer cheek of it made Helen flush with anger.
“Mum! Did you buy that slimming tea? The chia seeds? Whyd you put so much butter in my porridgeits just empty calories! Tim, you bought white bread again? Its awful! And I need three glasses of water in the morning or the scales wont budgewheres my water?!”
This was the soundtrack of Tims childhood. His mother and older sister were forever obsessed with their figures. Helen, now thirty-eight, had never married and reminded Tim of a gaunt, hunched mare with perpetually hungry eyes. His mother? A knitting needlestraight, sharp, and just as thin.
It wore him down so much that he gravitated toward lively, hearty people with proper appetites. And he swore his future wife would be nothing like his family. Then he found her.
OliviaLiv, even her name was soft, warm, like a slice of treacle tart. She wasnt overweight, but at five-foot-eight and thirteen stone, she was undeniably *there*. And every ounce radiated health and happiness. High breasts, a narrow waist, curves in all the right places, and dimples in cheeks just begging to be pinched. The moment he saw her, he was done for.
One evening, he dropped Helen off at the bank on an errand. She took a ticket and sat, while he wandered the lobby, waiting. Thenlaughter. Bright as a silver bell, infectious enough to make him smile without thinking. He followed the sound to a teller, Liv, helping an elderly customer whod cracked some joke. Tim couldnt look away.
Her wavy hair, Cupids bow lips, and yesshe was *properly* built, no two ways about it.
In the car, Helen droned on, but his mind was back in the bank.
“Tim, are you even listening?”
“Of course, Helen,” he lied, scrambling to recall her latest grievance.
“So I told him, I dont eat fried meat, only boiled chicken breast,” she whinged about another failed suitor. Tim nodded sympathetically, clicking his tonguewhat a cad.
The next day, he raced back to the bank. Liv was there. Relief. At closing, he grabbed a bouquet of roses from the car and marched over.
“Miss. Dyou need a husband? Or a son-in-law for your mum?” he blurted, thrusting the flowers at her.
His face mustve been a picture, because she laughedbut took them.
“God, these are gorgeous! The scent!” She buried her nose in the blooms while he drank her in.
After that, they were inseparable. Sometimes you meet someone and just *know*. Liv was it. He proposed within a month. She said yes. Then came meeting the parents.
Livs family welcomed him with a feast, pies, laughter, and chatter. Her mothera statuesque beautykissed both his cheeks, leaving him beetroot. Her dad clapped him on the back like an old mate and steered him to the kitchen.
“Stay clear of the women, theyll nag you to death. But dont worry, Natalies a gentle soul. Thats why Ive loved her thirty years. And Liv? Shes our diamond. Look after her, son.”
They ate heartily, told bawdy jokes, and Livs dad played guitar while everyone sang along. Tim felt at home.
Three days later, they visited *his* parents. Liv bought handmade éclairs from a posh patisserie. At five sharp, they arrived.
His mother, Margaret, answered the door.
“Oh Hello, darlings” She gaped at Liv, frozen mid-greeting.
“Mum, love you too. Can we come in?” Tim nudged her inside.
“Of course, of course You must be Olivia?” Margaret recoveredbarelyeyeing Liv head to toe.
“Thats me! Lovely to meet you.” Liv offered her hand and breezed past while Margaret stood stunned.
Tim made introductions. “Dad, Helen, Mumthis is Liv, my fiancée. Weve filed the paperwork, weddings soon. Liv, meet my family.”
Silence. Utensils clinked.
“Right! Olivia, welcome to the family,” his father, Nigel, cut in. “And whats thischampagne? Perfect! And treatsfor the ladies, eh?”
“Oh, we dont eat sweets, *especially* at night,” Margaret said, pushing the box away.
“You dont, *we* do.” Nigel grinned. “Liv wouldnt bring rubbish. Right, love?”
They settled, tension lingering. Champagne was poured, toasts made. Awkward quiet.
“Mum, I met Livs parents. Wonderful people. Youd like them,” Tim offered. Liv studied her glass; Helen stared at her. Nigel told a joke. Forced laughter.
“Olivia, dont fretIve a brilliant nutritionist. Ill introduce you,” Margaret said suddenly.
“Problem? I dont have one.”
“Butthose extra pounds? Isnt *that* a problem?”
“*I* dont think so. Tim certainly doesnt. Not everyones meant to be a stick insect.” Livs gaze swept over Helen and Margaret. Helen bristled.
“Youre *twenty* pounds overweight! Its unhealthy. And when you have children”
“When I do, Ill be even lovelier, with my husband and baby. Youre married, Helen? Must be hard for such a *slender* woman to keep a man…” Liv took a vengeful bite of éclair.
Helen spluttered, but Nigel cut in, refilling glasses. “To the women of this familydifferent, but dearly loved!”
They left two hours later. Exhaled. Then burst out laughing.
“Well. Didnt expect my future mother-in-law to call me plump.”
“Liv, youre stunning, and you know it. As for Mum and Helen familys family.”
The wedding was set for August 25th.
Liv shone in her gown, all curves and confidence. Tim couldnt take his eyes off her. Natalie, her motherjust as strikingdrew half the rooms attention, a far cry from Margarets pinched, frumpy silhouette. Helen was her spitting image, just younger.
The first dance began. They moved like the only people in the world.
Then”Honestly, the bride could stand to lose a few. That dress doesnt help” Margarets murmur carried.
Natalie was on her in a flash. “Plenty of men prefer *real* women. Your son included. Watch your tongueIm easygoing, but cross my daughter, and I *will* snap.” She backed Margaret into a wall, bosom-first.
Nigel swooped in. “Ladies! Already thick as thieves? Natalie, dance with meits our turn!”
Music swelled. Laughter returned. The wedding carried on, merry as a spring morning.
Heres hoping they live long, laugh often, and prove that lovenot waistlinesmatters most.
Because thats what counts, isnt it?
