Love Across the Seas | A Plus Size Romance | Full Figured Romance | Short Novel

by J. J. Alston

  Candace juggled the bags of groceries to one hand as she opened the trailer door and squeezed inside. The space was too narrow between the kitchen counter and the hall closet, but what could a 22-year-old cashier and her invalid mother expect? Besides, she carried a fair bit of extra weight – something she inherited from her mom.

  “Hi Mom,” she said as she moved dishes aside to make room for the bags on the counter.

  Her mother mumbled an absent greeting from her usual place in her recliner in front of the TV.

  “What’s new on your story today?” Candace flipped through the stack of mail.

  “Fernando cheated on Sophie with Delia. I couldn’t believe it! I thought they were so in love.”

  Candace smiled wryly as she opened a cable bill. Nothing new on the soap opera circuit. Love falls together, love falls apart -- whatever happened to happily ever after?

  The next letter in the pile caught her eye and she put her purse down on the counter beside the rapidly warming groceries. Air mail. From Indonesia, it looked like. Some guy named Rio. Addressed to Candace.

  She leaned against the counter and opened the letter. Read it. Read it again.

  My most beautiful Candace ...

  What? That couldn’t be right. She read it again, but the words didn’t change.

  My most beautiful Candace,

  I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind since we met on the beach in Bali. You were the only woman I could see that day, with the sun in your golden hair. The things you whispered to me keep me awake at night. I meant every word I said to you. There could never be another for me I wish I could know you better .

  I go back to the spot on the beach where w m e met hoping to find you there, but your place is empty, just like my heart ...

  The letter went on with more of the same.

  “Is this some kind of joke?” Candace said aloud, turning the letter over and back again and rechecking the envelope.

  “Is what a joke, honey?” her mother asked in a disinterested tone.

  Candace skimmed over the words again, her heartbeat quickening. She knew this couldn’t be true, knew there was some mistake. Yet the words hit their mark. It would be so nice, so nice if someone really had written those words just for her.

  But Candace wasn’t the kind of girl men wrote ardent letters to. And she certainly hadn’t met anyone named Rio on an Indonesian beach.

  Her eyes lit on the framed picture of their family that sat on top of the microwave. She and Mom filled most of the frame, and squeezed into the right-hand quarter was Tiffany. Tiffany with her perfect blonde hair, manicured nails and model figure. Tiffany got plenty of ardent letters. And Tiffany had just come back from a trip to Bali.

  Suddenly the pieces fell into place and the foolish hope that had grown inside her dropped in her stomach like lead.

  “Are you coming to watch the story with me?” her mother called from her chair, not taking her eyes from the TV.

  “Just a minute. I have to put away the groceries.” With a wistful smile, she folded the letter and slid it back into the envelope. Back to reality. After a day of scanning groceries and stocking shelves, she was tired, but Mom needed her. At least the two-bedroom mobile home didn ’t take long to clean, even if it was a little outdated and tiny.

  After she got the groceries away and started a load of laundry, she put her feet up, too. But watching the soap operas left her wishing for something more. Something real.

  Tiffany came as they were finishing up dinner on their TV trays. She popped up the steps like she was walking onto a catwalk and slipped through the door with room to spare. Flipping her immaculately flat-ironed, long-layered hair, she came over and gave Mom a hug and a ridiculous European-style kiss on both cheeks. Mom seemed to like it though, chuckling and patting Tiff indulgently on one cheek.

  Candace got a slightly less enthusiastic hug before Tiffany twirled away to perch on one of the seldom-used dining room chairs.

  “Do you want something to eat?” Candace asked.

  “No. My stomach couldn’t handle the stuff you two eat. Besides, my new man is taking me out tonight. A five star place right on the water. Look what he gave me!” She pulled back her hair behind her ears and shook her head, flashing a pair of teardrop diamonds that would put a princess to shame.

  “Nice,” Candace said.

  “Ooh, they look so pretty on you,” Mom said, beckoning her closer so she could touch them. “I could never pull off dangly earrings like that. But you’ve got such a delicate neck. Not like me or your sister.”

  “Oh, I almost forgot!” Tiffany dug in her purse and pulled out a little red velvet bag, which she handed to their mother. “Something for you.”

  Mom beamed as she opened the bag and shook out a glittering pile of diamonds. “Oh, Tiffany! You shouldn’t have!”

  “You deserve something nice, Mama.” Tiffany clasped the necklace around her mother’s neck. It looked out of place with Mom’s oversized t-shirt, not to mention half-lost in the rolls of fat around her neck. No one mentioned the fact that it had been given to Tiffany by her last man, a month before, who just happened to be her latest millionaire’s friend. But then, Tiff didn’t own anything that a man hadn’t given her.

  “I brought something for you, too.” Candace’s gift was in a ziploc bag. No pretense there. But she took the gesture as it was intended. It was Tiffany’s way of showing love.

  “Thanks.” Never mind it would look just as silly on her as on Mom. Never mind she didn’t want to stoop to wearing Tiffany’s cast-off jewelry any more than she’d want Tiffany’s cast-off men. She put the baggie beside her plate on the TV tray. “Oh, I just remembered. There’s a letter on the counter I thought you might know something about.”

  Tiffany frowned prettily and got the letter, reading it a few times before she rolled her eyes. “I know what this is now. There was this guy in Bali -- looked like a million bucks. He was young, too – probably around 25. I spent the day with him, had some fun, had him totally wrapped around my finger. Then I find out he’s broke. Talk about a letdown. Oh well, I guess they can’t be young and handsome and rich.”

  Mom laughed.

  “But why was it addressed to me?”

  “Oh, that. I didn’t know him so I gave him a false name. Just in case.”

  “My name?”

  “Well, he’s half a world away, so how was I to know it would cause a problem.”

  “Of course not, sweetie,” Mom said. “You couldn’t have known.”

  “Well, when I found out he was lying to me, I tried to make a graceful exit, but he kept pestering me for my number. So I gave your address instead. I knew you wouldn’t mind. I didn’t actually think he’d write. I mean, who writes letters anymore?”

  “Mystery solved,” Candace said, putting aside all the replies she might have made. “What do you want me to do with it?”

  “Oh, I don’t care. Throw it out, I guess.” She stood then and made for the door. “I’d better get going. Don’t want to be late for my date.” With a giggle, she hugged Mom and Candace once again and went out the door.

  The trailer was quiet at night, after the TV was off and Candace had helped Mom to bed. She was alone with her thoughts and the dishes. Sometimes it was comforting to have some time, to remember good things past and imagine good things to come. Other times, though, were darker--times like tonight when she pondered all the mistakes she’d made in her 2 2 years and the chances she’d never have.

  Like true love. Oh, she’d thought she’d had it, on
ce or twice. But one guy had just been using her, pushing her all the time to have sex. Candace had stood up to him, with her heart breaking, until he gave up in disgust. She might have given in, except for remembering the pain her mother had lived since conceiving two daughters by two different men.

  Mom didn’t complain much, but Candace had once seen the sad handful of crumpled, tearstained letters she kept in a shoebox under her bed. Candace knew Tiffany’s dad had broken Mom’s heart. And her own father, a convenience more than a passion, had broken more than just that. Mom still couldn’t walk without a heavy limp, even before she’d gained all that weight. She remembered those days, like a blurry bad dream. Candace didn’t want to live that life, or worse, sentence a child to the life she’d lived. But she’d lost her first boyfriend for her choice.

  The second guy, senior year of high school, had seemed like a dream come true, until she discovered he was only taking her as a consolation prize for failing to win Tiffany. The day he accidently called her by her sister’s name she’d cried until she thought she’d never stop. That was senior year. After that, she’d buried herself in work and caring for Mom, with no time or opportunity to meet guys. But she’d never truly given up hope that she might find the man she dreamed existed.

  Mom said she was foolish to hold out for a fairy tale love, that she would do better on her own. But she never said that to Tiffany. Tiffany could do no wrong. Candace could envy Tiffany for the money and the trips and the fancy meals and the lavish attention. But deep down she pitied her sister, because under all the glitz was nothing but emptiness.

  She caught sight of herself in the large mirror across the dining room. Oh, sure, there was no doubt she was Tiffany’s sister. She had the same blonde hair, the same alluring blue eyes. But she looked like Tiff in a fun house mirror. Three quarters the height, and twice the width. Add to that a cheap haircut with no style and a wardrobe full of baggy t-shirts and elastic waist pants and the comparison became laughable. She stared at herself unhappily.

  If only Tiff knew what she had. Like this Rio in the letter. Putting away the last dish, Candace hobbled over to the table and picked up the half folded paper, sat down heavily and read it again, put it down with a sigh. If it had been Candace on that beach, Rio would never have given her a second thought. Tiffany’s beauty opened the door to love every where she went. Too bad she threw it away with both hands when it didn’t have a fat bank account attached.

  I could love someone a hundred times more truly than Tiffany ever could. Candace bit her lip as her eyes stung with tears. If only she could get the chance. If only the door would open for her the way it did for Tiffany.

  But that wasn’t likely. Not stuck here in this senior citizens’ trailer park, in her dead-end job. Not looking the way she did.

  “Oh, God,” she prayed, though she wasn’t even sure she believed in him. “I have to believe there’s something more than this. Please show me what love is really supposed to be like.”

  The letter caught her eye again, with her name at the top and all its passionate words. What if this was the open door she was waiting for?

  Candace laughed, braced her hands on the table to stand up, her mind set on tossing the letter in the recycling bin. But she stopped instead, and picked it up. Somehow she couldn’t bear to throw it away. All those words, even if they weren’t meant for her ...

  In a moment of madness, she opened up her laptop and clicked on email. Before she could stop herself, she typed in Rio’s email address from his letter. Then she started writing.

  Hi Rio,

  I was so happy to get your letter. I’ve been thinking about you, too, and that day we spent on the beach in Bali. I can’t get you out of my mind, especially now that I know how you feel. Tell me more. Tell me all about yourself. I want to know you better.

  Dreaming of you,

  Candace

  She clicked send without even reading over what she’d written. Then panic set in. What have I done? She opened her outbox, but it was too late. Her words were already instantaneously halfway around the world, waiting for a Balinese stranger to read them.

  Clapping a hand over her mouth, cheeks burning, Candace stared at the screen. Only now did she think about her words. Dreaming of you? What had she been thinking? Rio had fallen for Tiffany, not her. There was no room in his heart for Candace.

  That’s when she remembered that it was her name at the top of the letter. All Rio knew was Candace. All he knew was a pretty blonde stranger who’d flirted sweetly with him for one day. And on email, she could fill in the blanks Tiffany had left in Indonesia. She could be sweet, she could flirt. She could be herself, and Rio would never know. She could read more of his adoring words, and give him all the love that was brimming inside her, wasted.

  Still blushing, she closed down the laptop and slipped the letter into her pocket. It would go under her pillow tonight, and she really would dream of meeting a handsome stranger on a beach in Bali.

  Candace had all but forgotten her crazy decision of the night before the next morning. She dressed as usual, put on her blue work smock and name tag, ate breakfast with Mom in her kaftan in front of the morning talk shows, and packed her lunch. Only when she made her bed did she feel the crackle of paper under her pillow and remember.

  Heart pounding, she looked at the letter, then stashed it guiltily in her sock drawer. All the misgivings of last night paralyzed her for a moment. But then curiosity took over. Had Rio read her email? Had he responded? She had a minute or two before work ...

  Candace bustled into the living room to grab the laptop and take it back to her room. Mom barely noticed. She shut her door, which she rarely did, and opened the laptop on the bed. As it booted up she wondered, prepared her heart for the inevitable disappointment, laughed at herself for her foolish hopes. But there it was, in her inbox -- a new message. Not spam, not a newsletter. Rio.

  Ignoring the warning of her head that this wasn’t real, that it didn’t count, she followed her heart and opened the email.

  My darling Candace,

  I had lost hope that I would hear from you. Did you lose my contact info? I thought you might have, but I was not sure. When I told you about my humble life you seemed disappointed. I thought you might have blown me up. My letter was my last chance to speak to you. When I got your email I was overjoyed.

  I hope we can talk many times, even if my english is not so good. Maybe you can help me learn? I dream of someday bettering my life and life for my family. I take care of my parents and many younger brothers and sisters, and learning english will help me get a better job.

  Although I am happy, I am lonely, as I told you when we met. I believe God brought us together, and I would love to learn more about you. You are a beautiful person, and your beauty seems to glow from within. Help me to know you, and I feel I will only love you more.

  Yours,

  Rio

  Torn between giggling and weeping and running away, Candace read the email three times over before she hit reply.

  Dear Rio,

  Your english is wonderful, although I think you meant “blown me off” instead of “blown me up”. :)

  No, I could never have blown you off. You were so handsome and kind. I was a little frightened by your love interest , but now I see my heart is safe with you. It doesn’t matter to me if you are rich or poor. I think your desire to better yourself and care for your family is very noble. I respect that.

  I’ve been lonely too. But not anymore. :)

  Love,

  Candace

  This time she took a deep breath before hitting send. When she put back the laptop and said goodbye to her mother, she couldn’t help smiling.

  After work, a message was waiting for her, and again the next morning , and all the days after that—emails full of confessions and deep thoughts, hopes and regrets, favourite things and fears and encouragement.

  I could take college courses, but I ’m afraid. English is so hard , he wrote.


  You can do this! Look how much you’ve improved on email. I’ll help you every s tep of the way. You’ve even inspired me to take an online course.

  My mom makes me feel so small , she typed in frustration.

  Don’t live your life to please other people. You need to take care of yourself. She ’ll need to understand that, if she really loves you .

  Thanks, Rio. I really needed to hear that.

  Rio was everything she’d ever wanted – a good man. He wasn’t perfect, but as close to it as she thought might exist. What kind of guy could she find who understood the sense of responsibility she shouldered for her family? He looked after his family, too. He was a Christian, but never pushy. He appreciated her for herself and never asked anything in return, lavishing encouragement on her with every email.

  Then one day his email came up with an attachment. She saw the paper clip symbol and gulped. It could only mean one thing – a picture.

  Before she read the email, she clicked on the file, as curious as she was apprehensive. A photo filled the screen of a smiling, mocha-skinned man with thick dark hair, a round face, cleft chin, and slightly tilted dark eyes. Tiffany hadn’t been lying. He was probably the most handsome man she’d ever seen, better even than the actors on TV. She smiled at his picture, feeling as though he was smiling back just for her. But a worrying doubt pestered her. What if he wanted a picture from her?

  She read the email then, and her doubt vanished.

  I thought you might like a picture. It’s been a while since we met face to face. Please don’t . feel like you must send me one in return. I don’t need to see you to love you. It’s your sweetness I’m falling for – the way you encourage me, the selfless way you look after your mother. You are everything I want.