The Lighter Side of Large (3 page)

“Because she’s untrustworthy,” I say bitterly.

Dad sighs. “But it’s done and there’s no going back. Life is like this sometimes.”

I’m not certain if he is referring to Tiresa’s betrayal of me or her being taken away. “But life is
always
like this for me,” I grumble. “It’s not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair,” Dad continues. “Is it fair that your mother died? Is it fair her family took Tiresa away? Is it fair that I had cancer? No, no, and no. So it’s up to you to make it work even when it’s not fair. Life is what you make it. You don’t have to be a suffering single mother. You aren’t the first and you won’t be the last. Make your life count and enjoy it and soon someone will come along and love you more than Mika ever did.”

“How?” I ask, tears welling up again. “I don’t know how.”

Dad moves back to his recliner.

“Now I’ve made you tired, Dad. I’m sorry. Is there anything I can get for you? Let me make you a cup of tea.”

“That would be lovely.” Dad smiles and attempts to adjust the pillow behind him. I get up, sofa springs groan again, and fluff the pillow for him. “Thank you,” he says and takes my hand. “You do so much for others. Make sure you take care of yourself. Make your life count by taking charge. Don’t let life run you.
You
run it.”

“Of course, Dad, you’re right.” I sniffle and smile and give him a hug.
Easier said than done,
I think, but to please Dad, it’s easier to pretend I agree.

Dad picks up the crossword puzzle and pencil. “And don’t worry about finding the right man. He’s out there. And not just any old schmuck.
You need someone who sees that your river runs so deep that he can’t help falling in.”

I make him a cup of tea and a sandwich and serve them on a tray. “I have to go now. Tiresa’s coming soon to pick up the kids.”

“Send her my love,” Dad says.

“I will, Dad,” I reply. But it’s a lie. I have no intention of telling Tiresa what he says. She abandoned him and stole my life and doesn’t deserve love or trust.

•

I arrive home just in time to pay the babysitter and pack a few clothes for the kids before Tiresa arrives. My stomach is in knots before I hear her car – her
very expensive
car - pull into the driveway. I don’t want her in my home so she waits at the end of the walk, just outside the garden gate while I hustle Abe and Fi out the door.

“Aunt Tiresa!” they shriek and rush to greet her. Each laugh and smile is a stab to my heart. I waddle down the walkway after them and hand Tiresa their suitcases.

“Don’t forget to feed Snowball,” Fi calls. Snowball is their pet rabbit, a white one with red eyes.

“I won’t, honey,” I call back. Fi is always worried I’ll forget to feed Snowball.

Tiresa takes the suitcases and stands there avoiding eye contact, like she’s waiting for me to say something. She knows that I know about the wedding. No doubt she’s waiting for some tirade or snarky comment. Instead, I fold my hands and stand there. The ball is in her court.

Looking at her nails, she says, “You’re invited to the engagement party and the wedding if you want to come, but don’t expect an official invitation in the mail.”

“I’m surprised you’re inviting me at all, Judas,” I say coolly. “Makes it rather uncomfortable when the person you crucified is hanging about - no pun intended.”

Tiresa looks me in the face. “Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be? And you wonder why you aren’t getting an official invitation? Mama Rose wants you there for the sake of family, but she forgets how awkward you make everyone feel. So if you insist on coming, make sure you stay out of the way. I know it’s difficult, but you can at least try.”

With that last stab at my size ringing in my ears, she turns on her high heels, which look like shoes I saw in a magazine and cost more than three months’ rent for me, and clomp-clomps to her shiny car. She pitches her voice high as she chats with Abe and Fi, buckles them in before getting in the driver’s seat, revs the engine and squeals out of my driveway.

I stand there, angry and hurt and feeling helpless. “Fine,” I say aloud, whilst thinking about my conversation with the gang earlier. “Something has to be done.”

A bottle of wine later, I am confident enough to take charge. “I am going to do it,” I announce to Snowball, who sits in her cage on the floor near my desk, wiggling her nose. “I am going to find someone to fall into my river. I am going to find a date online.”

Snowball closes her eyes, disinterested.

I face the laptop, my window to a new world, and type in the web address that Riyaan wrote on a napkin and slipped me with my second mocacchino. The site pops up with a large photo of a young couple in each other’s arms smiling back at me, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world to find the perfect mate in an online meat market. The tagline actually says, “It’s the easiest thing in the world to use our EXCLUSIVE match-making system. Start today and date tomorrow!*” The fine print at the bottom of the page states, “This site does not guarantee a date the day after you join.”
That’s always a good sign,
I think:
a web site that lies.

The cost for joining is money I don’t have, but I charge it to my close-to-maxed-out credit card and take the plunge.

“Congratulations!” the site states. “You’re on your way to a brighter tomorrow with a significant other!*” More fine print and lies which I skip over.

Before I can see other profiles, I have to fill out my own:

Name: Isabella White

Age: 30

Height: 5’6”

Weight: 54kg -a slight lie, so sue me!

Occupation: Stay-at-home mum

I stare at my occupation a minute before erasing it.
I can’t say I’m a stay-at-home mum. How dull and boring.
I gulp down the last of the wine and tap on the desk, wondering what I should say to make me more appealing. Bank President? Senior Web Designer? Artist? Casualty Nurse?

Several minutes tick by. I conclude that my new career should be one I know something about so that I don’t sound like a complete idiot if a man asks me about my job.

Occupation: Housekeeping Manager and Recreation Director

“That’s better,” I hiccup, plus it isn’t a lie. My days are occupied with cleaning, laundry and entertaining two preschoolers. Manager and director, indeed.

I continue filling out my profile:

Likes: Mocacchinos, the beach, good friends, Movies, Music, Books: Chick flicks, jazz, romance novels

Dislikes: Smoking

Hobbies: Working out at the gym

Describe my ideal date: A quiet dinner at a romantic restaurant on the waterfront; a stroll on the beach

What I want in a mate: Kindness, sincerity

One-sentence philosophy I live by:

Again I tap on the desk, wondering what to say. Philosophy? I don’t have one. But by not putting something down, it looks like I’m not goal-oriented, and that isn’t good.

Then I remember Pa’s words - surprisingly since my brain is fuzzy from the all alcohol - and type them out:

One-sentence philosophy I live by: Make your life count by taking charge.

Rereading the sentence, I hope guys won’t think I’m a dominatrix or into BDSM, but decide to keep it as is.

There! My profile is almost done. So far so good. “Upload your photo and choose your screen name and get ready to meet your match!*” says the bottom of the page. (*Uploading a photo does not guarantee a match.”)

That’s not so good. I scan through my picture file for a decent shot, but all show my figure. I crop the best one down to an extreme close up so only my eyes nose and mouth and very little cheek are seen. As the photo is uploading, I type in a screen name to verify that it’s not already taken, and then it’s done.

I’m dating online. I’m a classified singles ad.

Another page pops up. “Check through our list of nearby singles who may be compatible with you!*”

“Here goes $49,” I hiccup again, my finger hovering above the “Click Here to Start Your Search for Love!” button when a box pops up.

“KnightinShiningArmor77 wants to chat with you. Accept or ignore?”

I blink and blink again. A man wants to chat with me? Already? Me?

I gently click on “Accept,” unsure as to what will happen then. A chat window opens:

KnightinShiningArmor77: Hi. Saw your photo. Nice!

That was fast. Is he serious? Is this a joke? I wonder. Only one way to find out.

ShyNSweet: Thank you.

Another line pops up instantly.

KnightinShiningArmor77: Love your profile looks like we’d have a great time on a date. I love jazz and the beach is my fav place.

Love my profile? Which parts? This is a good start. At least we have a couple of things in common.

ShyNSweet: Nothing better than catching waves or listening to Louis Armstrong and Billie Holiday.

Catching waves? Why did I type that? Damn wine.

KnightinShiningArmor77: So how did a gorgeous lady like you end up on a singles site?

ShyNSweet: Haven’t met Mr Right. RU him? JK

That’s gutsy. Hope it doesn’t scare him off.

KnightinShiningArmor77: lol Maybe I am let’s find out.

This is fast. What if he’s a serial killer?

ShyNSweet: Tell me about yourself.

KnightinShiningArmor77: I’m a manager for a major company on the North Island. I lead a very active lifestyle - kayaking, hiking, rugby, cricket.

Wow, he sounds like a winner.

Yeah, I know rugby and cricket? I enjoy both and play in local leagues. I love kids and want to coach a kid’s team one day.

He loves kids - even better.

My one vice is coffee. I’m a bear until I get that first soy latte;^)

He loves coffee!

How about yourself? Tell me why you’re shy and sweet.

Oh God oh God oh God what do I say?

ShyNSweet: I enjoy a good coffee as well and spending time with friends at our favorite coffee house. I have a great sense of humour and love to laugh and be outdoors and live life to the fullest.

Since when?

KnightinShiningArmor77: Sounds like my kinda lady. When can we meet so I can admire your beauty in person?

“Meet?” I say aloud. And then my conscience (or is it the wine?) attacks.

Conscience: Bella, what are you doing? Stop lying to this guy. You aren’t being fair by making yourself out to be someone you’re not.

“But I never thought he’d want to actually meet me,” I protest.

Conscience: So tell me again why you just shelled out $49 to get on this site to meet men?

The minutes tick by and I still haven’t answered.
Maybe KnightinShiningArmor77 really is a valiant man who won’t mind my weight.
I can’t believe I’m in this quandary. Lie and send him into shock when we meet, or tell the truth and send him into shock now?