The Lighter Side of Large (20 page)

“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.

Jae keeps me by his side for the rest of the grand opening, which doesn’t last much longer. He passes the test I hoped he’d pass, treating me the same in public as he does in private or with my friends.

I, however, don’t earn the seal of approval from his friends. Jae escorts me from one group or couple or individual to the next introducing me, but their reactions are the same: a brief smile, a limp handshake, and a, “Where did you meet Jae?” None are amused that we met in a grocery store. One woman turns to Jae and asks, “You actually do your own shopping?” Their eyes are the same, full of disgust and hatred.

Much to my relief, Jae leaves me with Chuck at the counter inside the store when he hurries off to chat with a couple of investors as they are leaving.

“Enjoying yourself?” Chuck inquires, leaning over the counter.

I glance around at the overdressed crowd. “About as much as I would a root canal without anesthesia.”

Chuck roars with laughter, earning a few dirty looks, and pops open a bottle of beer and hands it to me. Diet or no, I take a long swig. “Yeah, everyone in this bunch acts like they’ve got a broomstick stuck up their ass,” he comments.

“And a fly up their nose. What is their problem?” I ask, elbow on the counter and looking over the store. “Are all Jae’s friends this way?”

Chuck takes a swig from his bottle. “Fashion industry folk are as shallow as they come.”

I open my mouth to ask another question but several people approach for more beer and Chuck gets distracted. I move out of the way, but not before hearing a whisper, “That’s disgusting. Is he really that desperate? He should get back together with Amanda if that’s the best he can find. What does he see in her?”

“Not much, probably - there’s too much fat to see anything.”

I don’t turn to see who is talking and instead walk back to the storage room to sit in the employee break area to nurse my sorrows with the rest of the beer. What did I do to deserve such ire? Was I really that repulsive to them? I was used to the disapproval of strangers, but this hostility took it to a whole new level.

“There you are. What are you doing back here?” Jae finds me a half an hour later.

“Just resting my feet,” I smile as if everything’s okay.

“Everyone’s almost gone now, so we can leave in a few minutes. How does dinner sound?” Jae asks.

“Great. I’m famished,” I lie. My stomach is in knots and I doubt I can hold anything down.

We watch the last of the guests drive away, leaving the parking lot looking as forlorn as I feel. It’s a relief to be alone with Jae, yet I’m overwhelmed by the fact that I don’t fit in with his crowd.

Jae waggles his eyebrows. “I promised you a date and it’s not all business this time, so I made reservations at The Boatshed on the waterfront.”

The Boatshed was an upscale restaurant in Nelson. I’d never been there, but Mika often met with his business associates and wealthy clients there for lunch meetings, so I know it is high-class. “Jae, I’m not really dressed for the occasion,” I pointed out.

“We can swing by your place if you want to change,” he says. “I think you look fine.”

We drive back to Nelson in my car. Jae had hitched a ride with a friend on the way down in order to be able to ride back with me. During the ride he inquires about my dad getting his brace off and asks after the kids, but most of his talk centres on the grand opening.

“What did you think? It got lots of press coverage. That’s going to be good for business.” he says.

“You had a great turnout,” I reply, unable to think of something better to say.

“Yeah, it was a great turnout. I don’t expect any of them to become patrons, but it was nice of them to show up to show their support.”

“It was nice of them,” I agree.

Back at my house I throw on my black Grecian dress and apply just a dash of lipstick and blush, and then we’re off to The Boatshed . We are seated at a table on the veranda overlooking the bay. Lights from the city reflect off the water, looking like stars. It doesn’t get more romantic than this, but I feel like crap.

Everything about our dinner is the exact opposite of my date with Wesley. Jae is the epitome of a gentleman, attentive to my needs, constantly complimenting my looks, and lapsing into moments of silence when he just sits there gazing into my eyes.

But I can’t enjoy it.
What does he see in me that his friends don’t? Why does he like me, compared to all those skinny, beautiful, stuck-up women?

“You know, several companies have already booked company outings with Go 4 It over the next few months. We’re looking really busy.”

“You can’t ask for a better way to kick-start your business.”

Jae leans closer to me. “But not too busy to spend more time with you, which I really want to do - if that’s all right with you.”

“Of course it is,” I nod. “I look forward to it.”

Jae places his hand over mine. “We really need to expand our repertoire, move away from produce sections and fruit and vegetable juggling.”

Now that makes me feel a little better. “And I’d like to try out other experimental recreational activities - you know, besides bungee jumping and quad biking, though those are a blast.”

“Sure,” Jae moves even closer. “How does jet skiing sound?”

As long as I don’t sink the jet ski?
“Fast and wet,” I reply.

Jae turns red, trying to hold in his laughter. “Now you’re doing it. I’m a bad influence.”

“No,” I shake my head and place my other hand on top of his. “You’re a very good influence.”

Jae picks up my hand and plants the lightest of kisses on it, sending a thrill through me from head to toe.

I fall into bed that night, tingling from the memory of that kiss. But the weight in my stomach won’t go away. I’m used to being ashamed because of my weight; I’d come to grips with the fact that Mika left me because of my weight; so how can I expect Jae to want to be with me? His ghastly friends made it clear that I wasn’t accepted. It is a matter of time before Jae sees that I don’t fit in his world and he walks away.

What does he see in her? Not much, probably - there’s too much fat to see anything,
the voices whisper. I pull the covers over my head in shame. That’s my problem. It always has been. There’s too much fat for anyone to see the real me. Sure, Jae likes what he sees so far, but what has he seen? It can’t be that much, and that thought disturbs me. I want him to see more than fat. I want him to see the real me.

I must do something about it.

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