by Becky Siame
“Two medium fat-free mocacchinos coming right up,” Riyaan says and flutters away to the counter.
Jae turns to me. “How has your day been?”
“Fantastic,” I smirk and straighten up. “As of this morning, I have lost 12kg on my diet.”
Jae’s jaw drops. “Congratulations! That’s marvelous. I didn’t know you were dieting.” He leans over and gives me a hug. I glance at Sands out of the corner of my eye and wink. Sands gives me the thumbs up. “I’m really glad for you, Bella.”
“I have to give all the credit to Sands. She makes me go to the gym almost every day and purged my house of junk food. But a little sacrifice is worth it for better health.”
“Keep up the good work,” he nods. “Speaking of good health, how is your father?”
“He’s coming home Sunday. The brace comes off tomorrow but they want to keep him for observation for twenty-four hours. I’ll be taking care of him part of the day and a home health aide will be there in the evening.”
“Sounds like you’ll be busy. Have you made time to do any drawing?” Jae asks.
I shake my head. “Not yet, but you know what? I scoured the house for my old sketchbook and couldn’t find it anywhere.” I turn to Sands. “Jae wants to see my old art work. All the rest of my drawings are framed and hanging around my house.”
“You’ll have to invite Jae over to see them sometime,” Sands says knowingly. I kick her square on the shin. She winces and sticks out her tongue when Jae isn’t looking.
We chat for a few more minutes before Riyaan returns with our drinks. I blush; Riyaan stands there looking pleased with himself; Sands giggles; Jae just smiles. Half of a heart is drawn into each of our drinks. Sitting side by side, they make a whole heart. “Thanks, Riyaan,” I say grudgingly.
Jae reaches for his wallet. “My treat,” he says and pulls out a $10 bill and hands it to Riyaan.
“Thank you” I say, and with a pointed look at Riyaan add, “Don’t leave too big of a tip.”
Riyaan curtsies, of all things. “I am pleased to serve and serve to please.”
“Oh, brother,” Sands rolls her eyes and looks away. “Oh no,” she moans.
I follow her gaze. Cat stands at the window, staring at us like we’re puppies in a pet shop window. “Oh, good, it’s Cat. Jae, I want you to meet our friend Cat. I think I mentioned her on our - uh, when we were quad biking.”
“’Our’ friend, meaning Bella’s,” Sands says. “I don’t claim Cat as a friend.”
I wave Cat inside anyway. Riyaan wrinkles his nose. “Exit stage right,” he says, but I grab his arm. “A coffee for Cat, please.”
“Gotcha,” Riyaan hurries away.
I glance at Jae, who smiles and winks. I take it as a sign he understands and I breathe a sigh of relief just as Sands breathes a sigh of resignation and annoyance. I kick her again under the table.
Cat smells more pungent that usual today. I wonder if she has enough room in her system for coffee with all the alcohol sloshing through her veins. “Cat, I’m glad you’re here. I want you to meet my friend Jae. Jae, this is Cat.”
Jae stands up and thrusts out a hand. “How do you do?”
Cat stares at him like he’s crazy and takes his hand hesitantly. “Fine, considering I live on the streets. How do you think I do?”
Jae ignores her blunt tone and pulls out a chair for her. “Do sit down.”
“I’ve ordered you a coffee,” I put in hurriedly while admiring Jae’s chivalry. Mika hated Cat and the sight of him pulling out a chair for her - well, it never happened.
Cat sits, back ramrod straight as usual, and proceeds to stare at Jae.
“Made any business transactions with drug dealers lately?” Sands asks over the rim of her cup. I kick her again but she anticipates it and moves her leg. I end up stubbing my toe on her chair. “What?” she asks in my direction. “I wasn’t being facetious and you want me to be nice.”
“Try being a little less nice,” I growl.
Cat doesn’t tear her gaze from Jae. I don’t blame her - I find it hard to stop staring at him, too - but it is rather awkward. Jae acts as if nothing is wrong. “No,” Cat replies to Sands question, “But I did find twenty dollars in the gutter the other day. Wanted to buy me a new top at the second hand shop but they chased me out. Rude buggers. I was a paying customer, too.”
Jae shakes his head. “Sorry to hear it.”
“Yeah,” I chip in. “Which shop was it?”
Cat tilts her head to the right. “The one down the street from that shop that ran you out. You know, the one Riyaan’s confused friends are boycotting.”
I feel my face turning beet red. The last thing I need is to be reminded of that horrible day, especially since Jae was audience to the scene. Please God, he didn’t see me, Please God he didn’t see me, I pray silently.
“His name is Riyaan,” Sands corrects her.
Cat nods. “Yeah, I still gotta set fire to their dumpster. Suppose I can do that tonight. Maybe they throw away clothes they don’t want so I don’t have to spend money on a blouse.”
“Great,” Sands says. “Discussing your plan to commit arson in front of Bella’s friend: you’re making quite an impression.”
Dear God, please strike down my friends with lightning so they can’t make an even worse impression on Jae. If you do, I’ll swear to be good and never lie or sin for the rest of my life and make Fi become a nun and Abe a priest. Amen.
Jae ignores Sands. “So Riyaan’s friends are really boycotting this store?”
“Yes,” Sands says, pounding her fist on the table. “That AmandaE shop was so incredibly rude to our girl Bella that I won’t shop there anymore, either.” She gives him a hard stare, as if willing him to reveal why he was there.
Jae plays with his mocacchino cup. “Instead of arson to prove your point, perhaps it would be more effective to write to the president or vice-president of the company and voice your complaint.”
Cat shrugs. “We could, but fire is more effective.”
I want to crawl under the table and hide. But despite losing 12kg, my butt would still stick out, so there is no hiding. I smile and act chipper. “But that’s all in the past and no big deal, so let’s just forget about it. Jae,” I turn to him, “are you getting everything you need to get done at your other business today?” I act completely engrossed in what his answer will be.
“Yes, what is it that you do?” Sands asks with the same hard, willing stare.
Jae scratches at his neck. “I, uh, I’m the co-director of a company. I focus mainly on marketing. Rather boring stuff; not much to say, really.”
And he doesn’t. From that point until our party breaks up, Jae remains quiet, feigning interest in the conversation but contributing little. Little wonder why he is still evasive about his business; I’m convinced he’s soured on our friendship after meeting my gang. The only upside was that Riyaan didn’t curtsey any more.
“It was nice to meet you,” Sands says as we get up from the table. “Bella’s talked so much about you.”
Jae holds my chair as I scoot it back to stand. “I hope it wasn’t too scandalous.”
Sands and I laugh but mine is tinged with a sense of dying hope. After this, Jae won’t want to talk to me anymore. I just know it.
Sands and Cat move off in opposite directions once we leave the café, but Jae and I linger by the door. “I’m glad you could join us. I know you’re really busy,” I say half-heartedly. This is goodbye. Here it comes.
Jae shoves his hands in his jacket pockets. “I’m glad I came. You’ve got a great group of friends.”
“Yeah,” I try to smile but can’t. “They can be rather blunt and uncouth.”
Jae shakes his head. “I think they’re charming.”
Now I can laugh. “That’s very diplomatic of you to say so. ‘Charming’ is not the word which springs to mind when I think of them.”
“No, really, I do think they are,” Jae insists, “just as yo
u are. Bella,” he takes his hands out of his pockets and takes hold of one of mine. “I know I asked you out on a date which wasn’t business-related…”
He’s weaseling out of our date. He’s breaking it off. He’s trying to be a gentleman but this is The End.
“But I was wondering if you would be my date to the grand opening of Go 4 It. It’s next Saturday at 2 p.m. There will be newspaper coverage and a reception and a lot of people whom I’d like to introduce you to.”
Now it’s my turn to stare at him. I start to laugh, a great, loud, joyful laugh. “I’d love to be your date.” Relief floods through me and I feel like I’m floating. “I’ve never been to a grand opening. What’s the dress code?”
“Considering the business, I’d keep it casual, being out in the wild.”
“I’ve got plenty of casual.”
Jae beams. “Excellent. I really must run now but I’ll call you soon.”
“Right,” I say and we hug. Not a quick hug, but a lingering hug. “I look forward to it.”
I stand there watching Jae walk down the street. He turns once and waves. I wave back.
Life is good.
•
After raining all night, it’s a gorgeous, cloudless, bright blue sky day when I turn into the gravel parking lot of Go 4 It. I spent the entire drive worrying about the day. It is one thing to be seen chatting with Jae at the grocery store or at the coffee shop amongst my embarrassing friends, but quite another being seen in real public with him. He seems at ease when around me, but today is the true test of his character. How will he act around other people when fat me is in the picture? I’m about to find out.
The parking lot is teeming with cars - expensive cars like BMWs and Jaguars and Porsches, none of which seem to have been affected by the rain and mud. Dozens of people mill around the storefront while others wander in and out of the barn. A large banner hangs from the porch roof, declaring Grand Opening. I recognise someone - it’s Chuck and he’s directing traffic. He waves me off to the left, past rows of pricey vehicles. Another man, I think the bungee jump employee, waves me onto the grass embankment. I’m forced to park at the end of the row, the farthest from the building. With some difficulty I hide my purse under my seat and pocket my keys. I didn’t think I’d need my purse at this kind of function.
I step out of the car and plop my foot in the middle of a puddle. “Oh, bother,” I groan. Now I’m wearing one white and one muddy brown tennis shoe, with splashes of mud on that pant leg. I lock my door and exit my car, an older, dented Toyota Corolla. It seems out of place next to a spotless blue Land Rover which looks like it’s never been outside a garage.
As I approach the store, I don’t see Jae, but I do get a good look at what everyone is wearing. Jae said it was casual, but besides Chuck and Bungee Guy, I’m the only one who got the memo. Men and women stroll around or chat in small groups, some people holding champagne glasses (Champagne? For an adventure tourism business?) and others bottles of imported beer. Just about every man sports an expensive, over-sized watch and tidy sports jacket, while the women wear heels, jewelry, and too much lipstick.
The gravel crunching under my feet makes me feel more conspicuous than my one clean, one muddy tennis shoes, plus-size jeans, t-shirt, and long-sleeve camp shirt with flower pattern already do. A few of the guests glance my way, some of them doing double takes. I hold my head up and smile back at them, but they all look the other way. Or snigger.
“Excuse me, pardon me,” I mumble as I squeeze through the crowd. I get arched looks and frowns from people who look like the rich and famous, not people you’d normally associate with adventure tourism.
“Who is she?”
“Must be an employee. Rather rotund for the job, don’t you think?”
“Did you see that shirt? My granny wouldn’t wear something so horrid.”
“Obviously not from our set.”
My face is burning from the snide remarks as I climb the side steps to the porch. The front steps are blocked by a huge red ribbon and bow across the top of the stairs. It’s a minute before I can get through the door, so many people going in and out and none bothering to make room for me. Finally I push my way through, earning a highly offended, “Excuse me,” from some man in an orange suit, skinny tie and horn-rimmed glasses.
Inside, I get the same treatment and begin to panic. Where is Jae? Frustrated, I turn to a couple who look slightly more amiable than the rest. “Sorry to interrupt, but do you know where I can find Jae?” I ask.
They hardly glance at me. “I have no idea, but do get me a refill won’t you?” the woman says, pushing her glass into my hand.
“Make that two,” the man holds out his glass. They resume their conversation.
I stand there, dumbfounded. “I’m not a waitress,” I say and shove the glasses back into their hands. They look shocked.
Leaving their empty glasses and hearts, I head for the counter, where two Samoan bartenders are pouring drinks. “Excuse me, where can I find Jae Elliot?” I ask one of them.
“Don’t know. Sorry, love,” he says. “Champagne or beer?”
“Neither, thanks,” I say.
With a sigh, I turn to go outside, but decide it’s too much of a bother to push through the crowd, so I duck behind the counter and through a doorway to the back storage room, figuring there’s got to be an exit. I find it and head for the barn.
The barn is less crowded but still full of people - and no Jae in sight, though I still am the worst-dressed person. At least in here, the quad bikes and equipment garner more comments than I do.
I exit the barn and lean against the seat of a quad bike sitting outside the door, wondering where Jae might be. A cold, wet sensation makes me to jump up. “Oh, double bother,” I groan. The seat is still wet from last night’s rain. I feel my jeans - now they’re wet all across my backside. I pull my shirt down but it doesn’t cover the spot.
The sound of feedback through amplifiers pierces the air. “Testing, testing,” says the voice. It’s Jae. Relieved, I whip off my shirt and tie it around my waist. The air is a bit chilly and goosebumps rise on my arms, but there’s no help for it. I rush toward the store. People are pouring out of it and gathering around the front. “Right, we’re ready to start, so if everyone can gather around, we’ll begin in a minute.”
The parking lot slopes down to the store, so standing at the back, because there’s no room elsewhere, I’m slightly elevated above the crowd and get a good view of Jae. I see our definitions of ‘casual’ are different. He wears a sports jacket and button up oxford shirt, paired by those dark wash jeans. He’s chatting with an official-looking person next to him and then turns and scans the crowd. As his gaze sweeps in my direction, I stand on my tip-toes and wave. His face brightens when he sees me and waves me forward. “Oh, no,” I mouth and pick at my t-shirt and shake my head, hoping he gets the point that I’m underdressed for the occasion. He swats the air like he’s saying, “Forget about it,” and motions me forward.
I bite my lip but, not wanting to disappoint Jae, work my way through the crowd. At least my jeans are covered; even better, Jae is on the other side of it, waiting there with a smile. “I’m so glad you made it. I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he says, giving me a hug and a peck on the cheek. And then he’s pulling me up the steps.
“What are you doing?” I ask, panicking.
Jae squeezes my hand. “I want you by my side during the ceremony.”
“Oh,” I say weakly.
“Simon, this is my friend, Bella,” Jae says. I turn to find Orange Suit standing next to me. “Bella, this is Simon. He’s an old pal and long-time business associate.”
On purpose, I wait for Simon to offer his hand in greeting. It takes him a full five seconds of squirming before he wills himself to offer a limp hand. “Always charmed to meet a friend of Jae’s,” he says. His hand feels like a dead fish.
Jae lets go of my hand and turns toward the microphone, which stands on the
edge of the porch, a little to the side of the door. I lean toward Simon. “Somehow, I doubt that,” I whisper.
Jae taps the microphone. “Hello and welcome everyone to the grand opening of my latest business venture, Go 4 It Adventure Tourism Incorporated!”
The crowd applauds politely.
“Most of you know me from when I started my first business or have been there somewhere along the way. You’ve all taught me something about being a businessman, and for that, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart. I owe my success to you and your advice. I know for a fact that without you, I would not be standing here today. So give yourselves a round of applause. You certainly deserve it.”The self-absorbed crowd does not skimp on praising itself. Once the applause dies down, Jae babbles on a bit longer, thanking investors, naming a few persons including Chuck, who salutes Jae from the back of the crowd and earns only a splattering of claps.
“Most of all, I want to thank my friend Isabella White,” Jae takes my hand and flashes me that winning smile.
I freeze in terror, a deer in the headlights. All eyes, which avoided me as Jae spoke, now turn on me. Some look bored; others are amused and disgusted. None except for Chuck and Bungee Guy look friendly. I train my eyes on the horizon, wishing for anything to get their eyes off me: a sudden storm, a rampaging pack of rabid bears, or a nuclear explosion will suffice. Simon huffs in annoyance. I look at the sky again in hopes of a stray lightning bolt to fry him where he stands.
Jae continues, oblivious to my discomfort in front of Snob Central. “She did a test run of our quad bike trail and bungee jumped, and both activities met with her hearty approval. So I encourage everyone here to follow her example and come out here to have some fun. You won’t regret it.” He winks at me. “And now for the moment you’ve all been waiting for - the ribbon cutting.” Jae lets go of my hand again and the official hands him a pair of oversized scissors. Cameras in the crowd start flashing. “Will you make the cut with me?” Jae asks.
“Sure,” I reply. We move behind the ribbon and, with his hands over mine, we pose for a few seconds as more photos are snapped. His face is beaming and I honestly try to look happy for his sake as we cut the ribbon. The crowd applauds and Jae gives me a side hug.