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“Mei, I need you to WhatsApp me as soon as you get this message,” Candace said into her phone. She didn’t want to worry her best friend but this was an emergency. She needed to talk to someone who knew her. Who knew Ezra. And soon. “Call me as soon as you get this, Mei. Not once you’ve had a cup of coffee. Not when you get to work. Not when your boss pisses you off and you need to vent. You hear this message and then you WhatsApp me. Love you, bye.”
Candace sent the voice note to her best friend and stared at the chat screen as if Mei might feel her concentration through the phone and wake up from a dead sleep. She wished — not for the first Ezra-related time — that she and Mei were telepathic. But they weren’t, and she was going to have to wait for her best friend to wake up and call her back. Unfortunately, knowing Mei she wouldn’t call Candace immediately, not even with the express request that she do so. Mei was a great friend, but easily distracted. She might have the best intentions of calling Candace back and then find an article on the probability of mermaids really existing or realize that she didn’t have any coffee creamer and just forget. She didn’t mean to be MIA and she so rarely was, especially where Candace was concerned, but life happens.
It used to be that when Mei was unreachable, Candace could call Miles and have him walk across their house, tap her on the shoulder, and just hand her his phone. For year, Miles had been like a trap door to her best friend, but that door had been closed for over three years and it had become harder and harder to catch Mei at the exact moments she needed her.
It didn’t help that Mei was pretending as if the divorce hadn’t devastated her and avoiding everyone who might be able to see the truth, which meant she and Candace saw each other less than either of them liked. Miles and Mei’s separation had rent the fabric of all their relationships and none of them quite knew how to move forward in this new world where Mei and Miles lived in different cities and she and Ezra couldn’t count on their best friends to pull them back together. Candace didn’t know how to help Mei besides just waiting and avoiding all Miles-related topics, which included Ezra.
But Candace needed Mei now, even if it was going to hurt.
Her phone chirped and she unlocked it in the desperate hope that the telepathy had worked. It hadn’t. Jorge’s message was brief as ever.
Lobby.
“Oh, thank god,” she breathed. She grabbed her purse and headed out of her hotel room. As soon as she stepped into the lobby, her eyes darted to the boardroom Ezra had disappeared into.
“Girl, how much did this hotel cost?” Jorge asked none too quietly as soon as he saw her.
Candace rolled her eyes and grabbed his arm. “Let’s go.” She dragged him onto the street. It was warmer than when she’d walked here this morning. The sky was clear and it felt as if the sun was beaming right down on them.
“Does this mean you got that raise?” Jorge asked.
Candace frowned. “No. Stop asking,” she mumbled. That was a sore topic and it had been for a few years.
Candace had been with AeroPlan for her entire career and she’d risen relatively quickly up the ranks to purser, but no further. She’d applied to become an instructor in the flight attendant training program three times in the past four years and been rejected each time. She’d applied for raises based on her always near-perfect performance reviews every other quarter — company policy — and been either lowballed or denied. She was beginning to think that her time with AeroPlan was coming to an end and she had no idea what to do with the next phase of her life.
“You okay?” Jorge asked.
Candace bit her bottom lip and shook her head.
“Is it the billionaire?” he asked, turning her toward him. “Did you see him again?”
She nodded her head.
“Where? When? How? Tell me everything,” he demanded excitedly.
“Not...not here.”
“Why? Oh, holy shit, is he staying here too?”
She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward a taxi stand on the corner.
“Candace, come on, give me the gossip.”
She didn’t answer him until they were in the back of a cab heading to one of her favorite parks in all of Quito and away from Ezra. “He owns it,” she whispered.
Jorge started and turned to her with big eyes. “Are? You? Kidding me?” he yelled. “Why are we leaving? Why are you wearing this?” he asked, moving his hands in the air to indicate her blue jean shorts and loose gold and white baseball tee.
“Hey,” she whined.
His face softened and he put a warm hand on her shoulder. “No offense, girl. You’re gorgeous and I love you. But if we’re trying to snag this man and his hotel, you’re gonna need a better look than 1970s tomboy chic. We need to go shopping.” He turned to the driver and Candace stopped him.
“Can we back up like ten steps? I’m not trying to snag him. I just want to go sit in the park and talk to my friend.”
Jorge sighed and smiled at her. “Okay. That’s fine.” He sat back in his seat and sighed, “We can go shopping later.”
Candace pushed Jorge’s shoulder and they both laughed. They rode the rest of the way in silence, enjoying the scenes of the city as it passed. Locals going about their day to work and church, school children playing soccer in a grassy field, the driver’s radio providing an easy soundtrack of drums and horns as his hands tapped out the beat on his steering wheel. It was a moment of calm that Candace needed desperately.
***
Stepping onto the grass of Parque La Carolina was more like coming home than landing in Quito. When she’d been a broke study abroad student, she and her friends had quickly figured out how to enjoy the city while spending as little money as possible. They ate breakfast and dinner in the university dorms for free. They ate cheap lunches from the food carts around the city. And when they needed to get out of the university bubble to experience the city they were studying, they brought their schoolbooks to the city’s parks, staked out a stretch of grass and shared cheap bottles of wine in the equatorial sunshine. This way, they reserved the bulk of their money for traveling around the Andean region on weekends by bus and sporadic nights out at the city’s dance clubs with locals where they practiced their Spanish and everyone, including Candace by the end of the trip, flirted with locals.
But of all the city’s parks, Parque La Carolina was Candace’s favorite. She’d always found the lake at its center peaceful and used to come here on her own to sit and read, write, draw and sometimes cry. She’d planned to do that on this trip and had packed her worn copy of Plum Bun to reread on the grass nearby and try to find herself again.
Jorge had other plans.
“Oooh, paddle boats,” he screeched.
“No, I just wanted—” Candace started, but Jorge was already pulling her toward the boathouse. And before she knew it, she was sitting in a paddle boat with a life jacket on and a smiling Jorge pumping his legs happily.
“Help anytime you want,” he snarked at her.
She rolled her eyes and began to move her pedals begrudgingly.
There weren’t a lot of other boats on the water and after a few minutes it was almost as if they were completely alone. They could see people in the park, riding along the bike path, playing soccer and flying kites in the grass, but the water dampened the sounds of the park and it was peaceful.
“Alright, let’s get this therapy session started,” he said.
“You’re good.”
He smiled and shrugged. “I try. Look, you can tell me as much or as little as you want. I won’t tell a soul. Not even your billionaire.”
“His name’s Ezra,” she said irritably.
“I know.”
“And he’s not mine.”
He ignored that. “So, of all the hotels in all of Quito, you end up at the one owned by your ex-man? Sounds super romantic to me.”
“It’s not romantic. It’s a coincidence.”
“It’s fate. If my mother was here, she would probably have already taken out her rosary and started praying for your babies. Like seriously.”
Candace looked away and tried to blink away the tears in her eyes.
“What happened?”
She laughed as she turned back to him. “We ran into each other in housekeeping. He told me he’d wanted to come here with me when we were in college. And he invited me to a party tonight.”
Jorge’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked at her intently before leaning forward and putting his hand on her knee. “I don’t understand what any of that meant or why it’s making you sad, but I’m here for you. Did he give you a plus one?”
Candace burst into laughter and he squeezed her knee.
“God, I love you,” she breathed.
“The feeling’s mutual, sweetheart. Now come on. Spill. The whole story, this time.”
Candace wiped at her eyes. “When we were in college, Ezra had a four-year plan. He was the most organized person I’d ever met. Focused. And studying abroad wasn’t in his schedule. So for him to say that he even thought about studying abroad just to be with me...”
“Romance,” Jorge added with a sage nod of his head. He ignored her rolling eyes.
“He told me he missed me and he looked at me like...”
“Like he loved you?”
She nodded, too afraid to actually say the words. She’d been so accustomed to never saying aloud how often Ezra looked at her as if he loved her, because she’d convinced herself years ago that those looks were deceiving. She couldn’t bear to say it, just in case she was wrong and inadvertently revealed how desperately she wanted it to be true.
“You ever look at your life and wonder how the fuck you got here?” she whispered to Jorge.
He huffed out an ironic laugh. “Is that a joke? Of course I have. I wear the worst uniform to a job where I serve small single-use plastic cups of soda and packets of peanuts to people who take their shoes and socks off in a small metal tube full of recirculated air. I hardly know what city I’m in day-to-day. I can’t save more than a few hundred dollars before life fucks me up. My roommate keeps trying to pay his portion of the rent in Bitcoin. And my last relationship ended three years ago. Every day I wonder what my karma was like that this is my life. Go on.”
Candace covered his hand on her knee and squeezed.
“The first time I came to Quito, I thought that I’d be leaving here with a paid internship at an art gallery and a new boyfriend. Ezra. Instead, Ezra didn’t bother to contact me until it was almost time for me to come home and every job I applied to said I didn’t have enough experience for an entry-level job. Meanwhile, Ezra got this super prestigious award. My best friend graduated summa cum laude and Ezra’s best friend walked out of college with a junior executive position at the architecture firm of his dreams. Our best friends were also completely in love.”
“Geez,” Jorge breathed.
Candace nodded sadly. “I was the broke failure of the bunch and I couldn’t...” She swallowed and shook her head, “I couldn’t go back to that.”
“But you’ve seen him since then,” he prompted.
She nodded. “When I saw him in his best man’s tux at our friends’ wedding, he looked fine as fuck.”
“I believe every word of that,” Jorge said with a hand to his chest.
Candace laughed. “We hooked up for the first time at the wedding.”
“I would honestly disown you if you hadn’t. So, what happened after?”
She smiled. “I’d just gotten this job actually. And he got a three-million-dollar investor for his company.”
“Three million!”
“Three. Million,” she nodded. “A few months later he got another multi-million-dollar investor and then write-ups in all the tech magazines. My mom sent me clippings,” she laughed. “Actual magazine clippings of articles from Time and the Chronicle. Whatever she could find. My parents were so proud of him.”
“That’s amazing. Isn’t it?”
“No, it was. It is. He’s the smartest person I’ve ever met and the best person. It was everything I ever wanted for him. But he was a rising star in the world of innovative transportation and I was putting on that ugly uniform to serve tiny drinks and peanuts.”
“Oh,” Jorge said, and sat back in his seat.
“He lived in New York and he didn’t come home much. He dated models or women with PhDs in like, biomedical engineering. If that’s a thing. For years, we almost never saw each other.”
“But he came home for New Year’s Eve?”
Candace nodded sadly. “We hooked up every year for a few years. But it was like I didn’t exist for him for the rest of the year. When I left Quito after college, I promised myself that I wouldn’t wait for Ezra to run after me anymore. But then I did.”
“Did you ever call him?” Jorge asked carefully.
“I should have,” she admitted just as carefully. “I know that. I should have called him when I flew into New York or when I knew he was home. But you don’t know what it was like when we were in college. Every time we were around each other, he just... clammed up. And no matter what I did, no matter how much I brought up his favorite musicians or engineering shit I didn’t understand, no matter how close I thought we were, he never got any better. For three years I felt like I was sticking my neck out over and over again but never getting that same effort in return. And I just...”
“Couldn’t do it anymore.”
She nodded, fighting back tears.
“So, you never called him while you were in Quito or all those years because you were still waiting.”
She nodded again.
Jorge’s eyes shifted to the domestic scene in the park. He seemed to be contemplating her words. She took advantage of the silence to wipe away the tears she refused to let fall.
After a while, Jorge cleared his throat. “Okay, this is some heavy shit,” he said. “And I don’t know him or what you two were like in college but it sounds like he was shy and socially awkward, especially when around you.”
“Very,” she laughed. “He basically spent three years beet red, he blushed so much.”
“And you thought a guy like that would suddenly change his entire personality and reach out to you?”
“Ouch.”
“I’m sorry, babe. I don’t want to be mean, but it seems to me like the problem with you two is that you’ve spent years beating around the bush. It’s cute. A bit like a telenovela, which I’m actually super into, but not if you’re crying in a paddle boat in a foreign country. That’s sad. You’re too fabulous to be pathetic.”
“I’m gonna hold onto you calling me fabulous, while you apparently drag me for filth.”
Jorge smiled, “That’s my girl.” He sat up, rocking the boat gently, and looked at her with serious eyes. “I totally get you wanting him to show you how he felt. You deserve that, but why not tell him that?”
“I tried,” she said.
He squinted at her. “Did you though?”
“I did,” she said. “Before I hopped on the plane, I called him at my apartment.”
“Like his landline? Jesus, how old are you?”
Candace ignored him. “I told his best friend to tell him to email me and he never did.”
“Okay, and you never emailed him, not even to tell him he was trash for not emailing you? Like that’s the part that I don’t get. You’re smart. You’re more than smart, but he’s not the only person who clearly can’t think straight in this relationship.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, would you ever let any other man you’ve messed with go this long without being one hundred percent clear about his feelings?”
“Never.”
“Exactly. You’d drag them to hell and back and then invite me over to laugh at their groveling text messages, because you deserve better than that and you know it. But somehow you’ve been doing this dance with Ezra for twenty years.”
“Eighteen,” she corrected pathetically.
“Yeah, that’s much better. You’ve been running around in a circle with this man for eighteen years and there are only two reasons I can imagine why.”
Candace’s back straightened. “I’m listening.”
“Either you’re a masochist or you already know deep down how he feels but you’re just such a helpless romantic that you’re still waiting for his grand gesture.”
Candace turned away from Jorge quickly.
“How’d I do?” he asked after a few seconds of silence.
“Nail on the head,” she admitted.
“Yeah, I thought so. And I get it, maybe if he hadn’t become a billionaire and you weren’t so unhappy with your life... maybe this wouldn’t have dragged on so long. Maybe if you were both struggling or you were some fancy art dealer, you’d feel worthy of him.”
Candace cringed to hear those words even though it was exactly how she’d felt for too long.
Jorge reached out again to squeeze her knee. “But you are worthy of him. Your job might pay for shit and management might be sexist and probably racist as fuck, but you’re the best flight attendant I’ve ever worked with. You’re also kind and funny and can make even the worst passenger love you. And if Ezra is the kind of guy who thinks the work you do is beneath him, then he’s abso-fucking-lutely not the guy you should be wasting any more time on. Although he seems like he is the kind of guy you should waste just a little bit more time on at least.”
“How do you know?” she whispered.
“I already told you. I saw the way he looked at you. Whenever you weren’t looking, his eyes were on you. I might have called security on him but he didn’t seem as if he was planning to kidnap you. He just looked like he loved you. Like loving you was the same as breathing. And you might not want to hear this, but you look at him the same way.”
She laughed and then let her face fall to her upturned hands. “I sound so pathetic.”
“Girl, my younger sister is pretending to be in an open marriage right now to keep a man who won’t keep a job. You’re good,” he said and they laughed.
“So, what should I do?” she asked.
“Ooooh, sorry, I have no idea. But I mean, I guess you can start by having a conversation with the man. Sounds like you two are way overdue.”
Candace sucked in a deep breath, straightened her back and nodded. “Yeah, okay, you’re right.”
“Always.”
She rolled her eyes and then smiled at him. “He did give me a plus one tonight.”
“Bitch, and you’re just now telling me?” Jorge screamed. “Get to paddling. We need to find a mall. Rich people hang out with rich people. I still need to find a man for tomorrow night. Let’s go.”
Candace laughed as she and Jorge began to paddle back to the dock. She focused on his enthusiasm to distract herself from his hard truths for her and the thought of seeing Ezra again. But for the first time in longer than she could remember, she didn’t feel fear. She didn’t know what would happen with Ezra or her job, but she’d lived her life by fear and shame and if she didn’t want to have to run to Quito in another fifteen years, still lost and alone, she couldn’t let that fear paralyze her anymore.
***
Candace’s suitcase was open on the floor of the large closet in her hotel room. She was standing in a matching set of black lace underwear trying to decide between the best two dresses she’d brought. There was the slinky, shiny champagne spaghetti strap dress she’d bought with Ezra in mind. It fell demurely to her knees, but left so much of her shoulders, chest and back exposed. The thought of him seeing her in it made her shiver, even now. And then there was the slightly less flashy deep plum wrap dress that hugged all her curves and showed a lot of leg.
The rational decision was to wear the wrap dress and save the shiny number for tomorrow night, but she was hesitating. There was a chance — however small Jorge thought — that after she spoke with Ezra, their relationship would be over. And if this was the last night that he looked at her with flushed cheeks and wide eyes, she wanted him to remember her literally sparkling. But she also thought there was a case to be made that if they ended things, she should save the glittery dress for tomorrow. For someone else.
Her phone rang.
She rushed back into her bedroom and snatched it up. It was Mei. Hours late.
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Mei breathed as soon as Candace answered.
“I smashed my phone yesterday and had to leave it at the store. And then I didn’t have time to go pick it up this morning. And I got a ticket.” She sighed. “This has been the worst day. But I’m here now. Very late. What’s up with you and Ezra? Are you pregnant?”
Candace’s mouth fell open. “Okay, hold the fuck up. Breathe.” She and Mei took deep breaths together over the phone.
“Sorry. I’m good now,” Mei said in a calmer voice.
“Great. I’m not pregnant,” Candace said. “And I don’t know why that’s even a thing you’d ask.”
Mei scoffed. “Because it’s Ezra, duh.”
“What does that mean?”
She could see Mei rolling her eyes in her head.
“It means that I’ve been waiting half my life for you to stop fucking around in my spare bedroom and finally lock that down. Also he texted me yesterday to ask if I thought he had a chance with you.”
“He what?”
“Yeah. Thankfully, I had my tablet on me.”
“Wait a minute, he asked you if he had a chance with me?”
“Yeah, why are you talking like that?”
“Ezra’s a billionaire,” Candace screeched.
“His company’s worth billions. He’s only worth a few million. Few hundred million. Something like that,” she said nonchalantly, as if a few hundred million was akin to the few hundred dollars in Candace’s meager savings. “And shut up. He could be worth trillions and he’d still blush whenever someone even mentions you. He’s been head over heels in love with you since at least homecoming freshman year. He was staring at you the entire time.”
“How are you just now telling me this?”
“How could you have missed this? Ezra is lots of things, but subtle has never been one of them. Not with you. Jesus, Can, did you really not know?”
“No!” she yelled into her phone. “I didn’t know. He wasn’t...” She stopped herself just in time and pressed her lips together.
Mei’s voice was soft, hurt. “He wasn’t Miles,” she said. “I know.”
“It was just... Miles never stopped talking about you or talking to you. He was basically our third roommate sophomore year. He bought you flowers and candy and you dorks always had matching Halloween costumes. It was sickening. But it was also clear that he was head over heels in love with you.”
There were a few seconds of silence before Mei replied. “You’re right. Miles was the best boyfriend. For me. You would have hated all that. We’re two totally different people who like different kinds of men. You never would have dated a man like Miles so I can’t understand why you ever compared Ezra to him. They’re as different as we are.”
Candace fell to her bed in shock. Today was apparently the day of very hard truths about how foolish she’d been.
“You and Ezra are basically the same person. I mean you know, not on the outside, but definitely in all the ways that count. Only you two geniuses could somehow be obsessed with each other and never realize it. It’s kinda cute if you don’t think about it too hard.”
“Okay, Mei, I get it. We’re pathetic.”
“Very. But like, adorably so. Are you in Quito?”
“Yeah. Ezra was on my flight.”
“Oh wow. This is some fated shit. I’m gonna tell my ma when we get off the phone. She’ll light some incense for you two. Again.”
“Again? Your mom knew?”
“Yeah. She’s been rooting for you guys for a while. Maybe this’ll take her mind off trying to set me up with every eligible Chinese man in the East Bay.”
“Doubt it,” Candace said.
Mei sighed. “Worth a try though. Anyway, so you and Ezra are both in Ecuador. I guess that means Miles isn’t having his New Year’s party again?” she tentatively suggested.
“I don’t know. I can ask Ezra if you want.”
“No, no. That’s okay. Don’t...I mean if it comes up organically, I guess that would be okay. But don’t ask. Don’t make me seem...” Mei trailed off and even though Candace knew the perfect word to finish the sentence, she could tell Mei wasn’t ready to hear it.
“Okay. If it comes up organically. I’ll let you know.”
“Cool. Um...cool. So when are you going to see him again?” she asked, her voice brightening with the topic change.
“Tonight. He’s having a work party or something and he invited me.”
“Wear something short or tight or both,” Mei offered.
“So we’ve moved quickly from impregnation to seduction, eh?”
“Yes, because we’re working our way to impregnation. I need nieces and nephews asap.”
“You sound like your mother.”
“When the lady’s right, she’s right.”
Candace smiled and rolled her eyes. “I have two dresses I’m deciding between. If I send you pictures...?”
“Yeah, duh. Send them now. Hurry.”
“Alright,” she laughed.
“I’ll text back quickly. I promise. I’m here for you, Can. I love you.”
“I love you too, Mei.”
They hung up the phone and Candace smiled down at it for a few seconds in a soft, warm daze. Between Mei and Jorge she felt... well, maybe not optimistic about tonight, but certain she could survive it, nonetheless. She moved back to the closet, slipped both dresses on, one at a time, and took pictures to send to Mei.
She knew which one Mei would choose even as she sent the images. But when she got back two full rows of exclamation points under the shiny, sparkly dress, she felt the rightness of the decision she’d been too nervous to make. And Mei knew her and Ezra — apparently better than they knew each other and themselves — so she decided to trust in her friend.
But as Candace slipped on her shiny, slinky dress and sat down to do her makeup, there was an edge of sadness to her mood. Preparing to see Ezra so close to the new year inevitably reminded her that Miles and Mei weren’t together, and that sometimes love just wasn’t enough.