Read Online The Lighter Side of Large by Becky Siame - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Becky Siame
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guy chases me around a store to give me his number.
Jae is still all smiles. “Terrific. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye,” I say as he turns to leave. I stare at the paper. Jae Elliot – 021-084-5346 it says in bold script. I can’t believe it. I have the number to a cute guy I just met who wasn’t put off by the orange pyramid collapse or by my weight. An adventurous man who actually wants to spend a whole day with me.
He’s gone by the time I roll up to the check-out counter. What a difference a few hours makes. The humiliation with Wesley and my subsequent depression melts into oblivion as I think about Jae’s smile.
The cashier hands me the receipt. “Thank you, ma’am,” I tell her cheerfully. Maybe a bit too cheerfully from the look she gives me. I push the cart through the automatic sliding doors and into the sunshiny, breezy day. I scan the carpark but Jae is nowhere in sight. Darn, I think. I had hoped to catch a glimpse of his vehicle. Probably a truck since his business was adventure tourism. But no matter: I have his number and all’s right with the world.
As I stash the groceries in the boot, I wonder what activities we will do. Skydiving is more than I want to attempt. Boating sounded harmless - unless I capsized the boat. Hiking and biking were out - I couldn’t keep up with him and no bike had a seat big enough for me. Four-wheeling and white water rafting - now those I can try.
I slam the boot shut, put the cart away in the cart corral and slide behind the driver’s seat. I roll down the window as I turn on the ignition. “I can’t believe I got his number,” I say and pull it out of my pocket for another look: Jae Elliot – 895-184-5346.
And in a gust of wind, it’s gone. “Oh, no!” I cry as the paper sails through the air across the car park. I turn off the car and squeeze out, jogging a few steps to catch it, my boobs and flab rebounding with each step. The paper lands on the asphalt and I hurry toward it, but three steps away the wind picks it up and sends it whirling overhead, setting it down several yards away.
I’m puffing from the exertion as I jog, but as soon as I get close, it flies farther away. I pause to catch my breath, debating whether to keep after it or let it go. I really like what I saw of Jae and want to get to know him better, but I just can’t keep up the chase.
The paper lies tantalisingly on the ground for several seconds, as if it knows I decided to give up and therefore gave up as well. Then I take a step in its direction and the wind picks it up again.
I return to the car.
•
“Did you get everything you need?” Sands asks as I walk through the door.
“And then some,” I reply. Sands cocks an eyebrow at me in question. “I got the number of a gentleman who wants to take me skydiving.”
A smile slowly spreads across her face. “See? What’d I tell you? How about that.” She pauses. “Skydiving? When?”
My shoulders droop. “Never. I lost his number.”
“You did what? How?”
I start putting away groceries. Sands grabs a few items. “The wind blew it out of my hand and I couldn’t catch it.”
“What’s his name? We can look him up online.”
I stash the oranges in the refrigerator. “Jae Elliot. That’s Jae with an e. He runs an adventure tourism business.”
“Jae with an e? That’s weird. How many Jae Elliots with an e who run adventure businesses can there be?”
Before I can reply, the phone rings. The caller ID flashes Tiresa Vaega, the very last person in the world I want to talk to after this latest letdown.
I walk away from the phone. “Who is it?” Sands asks as she helps put away the groceries.
“Tiresa,” I grumble.
“Bella,” Sands says in her best mother voice, “what did I just tell you not one hour ago about sabotaging relationships?”
“Sands, I’m not in the mood to be told again that I’m not officially invited to their engagement party and how I need to keep a low profile there
Jae is still all smiles. “Terrific. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye,” I say as he turns to leave. I stare at the paper. Jae Elliot – 021-084-5346 it says in bold script. I can’t believe it. I have the number to a cute guy I just met who wasn’t put off by the orange pyramid collapse or by my weight. An adventurous man who actually wants to spend a whole day with me.
He’s gone by the time I roll up to the check-out counter. What a difference a few hours makes. The humiliation with Wesley and my subsequent depression melts into oblivion as I think about Jae’s smile.
The cashier hands me the receipt. “Thank you, ma’am,” I tell her cheerfully. Maybe a bit too cheerfully from the look she gives me. I push the cart through the automatic sliding doors and into the sunshiny, breezy day. I scan the carpark but Jae is nowhere in sight. Darn, I think. I had hoped to catch a glimpse of his vehicle. Probably a truck since his business was adventure tourism. But no matter: I have his number and all’s right with the world.
As I stash the groceries in the boot, I wonder what activities we will do. Skydiving is more than I want to attempt. Boating sounded harmless - unless I capsized the boat. Hiking and biking were out - I couldn’t keep up with him and no bike had a seat big enough for me. Four-wheeling and white water rafting - now those I can try.
I slam the boot shut, put the cart away in the cart corral and slide behind the driver’s seat. I roll down the window as I turn on the ignition. “I can’t believe I got his number,” I say and pull it out of my pocket for another look: Jae Elliot – 895-184-5346.
And in a gust of wind, it’s gone. “Oh, no!” I cry as the paper sails through the air across the car park. I turn off the car and squeeze out, jogging a few steps to catch it, my boobs and flab rebounding with each step. The paper lands on the asphalt and I hurry toward it, but three steps away the wind picks it up and sends it whirling overhead, setting it down several yards away.
I’m puffing from the exertion as I jog, but as soon as I get close, it flies farther away. I pause to catch my breath, debating whether to keep after it or let it go. I really like what I saw of Jae and want to get to know him better, but I just can’t keep up the chase.
The paper lies tantalisingly on the ground for several seconds, as if it knows I decided to give up and therefore gave up as well. Then I take a step in its direction and the wind picks it up again.
I return to the car.
•
“Did you get everything you need?” Sands asks as I walk through the door.
“And then some,” I reply. Sands cocks an eyebrow at me in question. “I got the number of a gentleman who wants to take me skydiving.”
A smile slowly spreads across her face. “See? What’d I tell you? How about that.” She pauses. “Skydiving? When?”
My shoulders droop. “Never. I lost his number.”
“You did what? How?”
I start putting away groceries. Sands grabs a few items. “The wind blew it out of my hand and I couldn’t catch it.”
“What’s his name? We can look him up online.”
I stash the oranges in the refrigerator. “Jae Elliot. That’s Jae with an e. He runs an adventure tourism business.”
“Jae with an e? That’s weird. How many Jae Elliots with an e who run adventure businesses can there be?”
Before I can reply, the phone rings. The caller ID flashes Tiresa Vaega, the very last person in the world I want to talk to after this latest letdown.
I walk away from the phone. “Who is it?” Sands asks as she helps put away the groceries.
“Tiresa,” I grumble.
“Bella,” Sands says in her best mother voice, “what did I just tell you not one hour ago about sabotaging relationships?”
“Sands, I’m not in the mood to be told again that I’m not officially invited to their engagement party and how I need to keep a low profile there
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