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“Madden,” I ask, “yesterday I asked you to think about some rewards for yourself as you hit each milestone. I also asked you to think about your weaknesses.”

“Ah hell.” He sighs. “I thought about it, but damn, I don’t want to completely grow a vagina in front of you.”

“How is rewarding yourself the same as cutting your dick off?” I ask him sarcastically.

“Just pick’ em out, Jordan, I don’t know.”

“Let’s start off easy. What’s the one food you are going to miss the most?” His brow quirks as he stares at me, deep in thought. “What’s the one treat you always opt for? Your weakness?”

Without hesitation, without blinking or stalling, in a whoosh of breath he blurts out, “Cupcakes, any kind of cupcake.”

This makes me smile. Something we have in common—cake. Let’s be honest, cake is the best—cake is life. Cake is why I have to put in extra miles on the elliptical or treadmill each week.

“I like the way you think; cupcakes are one of my weaknesses too.” He needs to see that even those of us who are somewhat in shape like the same things he does, but we have managed to learn to have them in moderation. He needs to understand that just because he has decided to put his health first doesn’t mean he has to give up the things he enjoys.

“You,” he says quizzically, all his attention on me, “like cupcakes?”

I scoff and cut my eyes to meet his. “Pal, my greatest love affair has been with cupcakes.”

He chuckles, so I move us along. “For your first milestone, which will be at twenty pounds lost, your reward will be a cupcake of your choice.”

He nods in agreement, so I push on to ask him about a bigger reward. Something he wants to do for himself, something he may have shied away from because of his increase in size. “Swing for the fences. What

will your reward be at forty pounds loss? What is it that you really want?” His demeanor sways as he shifts in the chair, and Madden looks uncomfortable and unsure of himself. This is odd, I haven’t seen this side of him yet. He rubs his hand over the back of his neck, and suddenly the floor has become his only object of interest.

“Hey, do you feel okay?” I ask worriedly. Maybe he’s feeling ill? The man did just have an episode that landed him in the hospital.

He straightens quickly. “NO! No, no, nothing like that. Embarrassed is all.”

“No judgement here. I’m here to help, Madden.”

“I want to catch the one who got away. I want to get back on the horse. Maybe go on a date.”

He blurts this out all as one sentence, so it takes me a minute to get with the program. I study him for a moment, and all this does is further my curiosity about him; where is his daughter’s mom?

Is he married?

Was he ever?

I realize that he’s opening and closing his mouth, searching for words, when I decide to put him out of his misery.

“Who’s the girl?”

“That’s a story for another day.” He chuckles.

“But there is a girl, isn’t there?” Curiosity gets the best of me, and I have to know.

He smirks and shakes his head. “Another day.”

“Okay, how about this?” I ask. “Once you have lost forty pounds, you ask a girl out on a date. It doesn’t have to be the girl, but you at least get back out there on the dating scene.”

He ponders this for a moment, and I can tell that this is a touchy topic for him. I’m willing to bet that he hasn’t dated at all since becoming a father. It looks like he’s going to protest, but I can’t have that, so I decide to goad him.

“Come on, Davenport.” I call him by his last name because it’s what one of the guys would do. “Heard you wouldn’t.”

I learned very early on that Madden Davenport can’t back down from a challenge.

“Okay, when I lose forty pounds I will go out on a date.”


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