"Temptation"
by Tricia Shore

(Originally published in The Independent Weekly, Durham, March 3rd, 1993)

     The wheat crackers are not as luscious, moist or sexy as the chocolate cake Jeff has just made, but they are seductive. They sit in the pantry closet, on top of the croutons that I refuse to open (I ate a whole box in one sitting once), and beside the brown sugar, which in my younger days I mixed with butter and flour and ate when there was nothing else in the house.
     I am an adult now. As much as the cake makes me salivate, I know if I take it out of its pan, scraping the remnants of the moist bread from the pan's bottom, and devour one layer while watching Women Aloud on Comedy Central, I will never forgive myself.
     I opt for the wheat crackers. At 3 grams of fat and 70 calories per serving, each serving being a half-ounce, I could eat the whole 9-ounce box, not eat anything else, and still have less than 2,000 calories for the entire day.
     Wait - I ate half the box yesterday. That's 27 grams of fat and 630 calories I won't have to worry about today!
     "I'll just eat a few of these in front of Jeff," I say to myself, knowing that if I really pig out while he's around, he'll snort like a pig to tease me. I hate that. I grab a small handful of the crackers out of the transparent plastic bag.
     They taste OK. My theory is that eating a few of these crackers will keep me from being tempted by that audacious chocolate cake. (Like being full has ever stopped me from eating.)
     Jeff goes. How could he leave me all alone with chocolate cake naked on the top of the stove?
     He's barely out of the driveway when I figure out the only thing that can prevent me from eating the cake is another handful of wheat crackers. I pull out the bag to see how much is left. Then I take out a small handful (not more than 6 grams of fat and 140 calories, I estimate) and leave myself another handful to ward away tomorrow's temptations.
     I taste them and think about the wonderful things I'm doing for my body by choosing this bland food over the fattening chocolate cake.
     Eating the crackers works up a thirst. Orange juice. How much healthier can I get?
     But the flavor clashes terribly with the wheat-cracker taste in my mouth. I can think of only one way to set my tastebuds back in equilibrium.
     As I open the door to the pantry, the wheat crackers sit there, waiting for me to claim the rest of them. I don't want to disappoint something that has succeeded in keeping me from the chocolate cake. I eat them. The bag and box go in the trash.
     I walk confidently to the bedroom and look into the full-length mirror that Jeff gave me for Christmas, the one I requested so I could compare my body to those shapely women in the Victoria's Secret catalog.
     I hold my breath and suck in my abdominal muscles. I'm much thinner than I'd be if I had eaten the chocolate cake.