Angelica nodded. She moved over to the drawer and picked out some cloth napkins. “Want me to set the table?”

“In a minute.” Bette followed Angie across the kitchen and placed her hand gently on her daughter’s shoulder. “Ang, you are not fat. You’re as skinny as a weed. You’re a healthy, growing girl. You shouldn’t be worried about your weight at all. Your mother and I -”

“I know, Mama,” Angie said, lapsing into calling Bette by the name she had when she was a baby. It gave Bette a twinge to hear it. Angie was growing up so fast. Sometimes she wished she could freeze time, so that she could keep her precious, funny, smart daughter just as she was forever. But a greater part of her looked forward with happiness and pride to seeing the woman Angelica would become. She furrowed her brow. This was the first time Angie had ever mentioned her weight this way.

“What is it, Ang?”

Angie’s narrow shoulders rose and sagged slightly as she sighed. “I just don’t want people to notice me for the wrong reason… because I don’t fit in.”

“Angelica, you are not fat. It’s not something you have to worry about. Okay? You have lots of friends at school. People like you because you’re you. And if they don’t, then they weren’t worth having as a friend anyway, right?”

“Sure,” Angie mumbled. Bette made a mental note to talk to Tina about how to approach this issue more in depth with Angie later. For now, she needed to address dinner. The side dishes were fine, but she needed to replace the chickens in a hurry, and she couldn’t start from scratch.

“Ang, will you be okay for a half hour or so? I’m going to run to that deli down the street.”

“Mom. I’m not a baby.”

“You’re still my baby, kid. Sorry to break it to you, but you always will be. Is your homework done?”

“Yeah.”

“You can watch TV until I get back. Don’t let anyone in. You know the rest of the rules.”