Weeks and weeks of agonizing waiting followed. For three solid months, she heard absolutely nothing from the agency. Huyen tried to take her mind off it by concentrating on studying the materials Ly had given her and helping her family around the rice farm just like she’d always done. Huyen practiced her English religiously, muttering it to herself as she worked in the fields. But in her spare moments, and as she awake at night, she kept fantasizing about her unknown foreign husband and what he would look like. What state would he be from? What city would he live in? Would he be from a place like Maine, with its deep forests and icy winters, or perhaps from the sunny beaches of California? Would he be a businessman? An artist? Perhaps a well-known professor or scholar?

But then, one fateful morning, it happened. Huyen went out to check the mail like she always did, but this time, there was a pink envelope stamped with the Ever After Brides logo.

Huyen sucked in a breath and took it with shaking hands. She glanced from right to left to make sure no one was watching before tearing it open.

Inside was a letter from Ly along with photographs of her potential husband and some documents providing information about him. Huyen’s heart skipped a beat when she saw the pictures. He was so handsome, with blonde hair and deep green eyes that seemed to look straight into her soul. She couldn’t help but stare at his image for several moments before picking up the letter.

His name was John, and he was thirty-two years old. He lived in a city called New Orleans and owned a very, very successful company specializing in finance and accounting. He had broad shoulders and a lean build, and stood at 6 feet and 5 inches tall. More than enough to tower over her like a giant.

Ly’s letter also said that John was a self-made man who worked hard and put himself through college before building his company. He had spent most of his life working on his career, and now he was ready to settle down and have a family. But according to Ly, dating was very difficult when you had money like John did because he could never be truly certain whether the women he spent his time with wanted him for who he was, or simply wanted his money. It was something that Huyen had never considered, but the more she thought about it the more made sense. It seemed that having lots of money didn’t solve your problems after all.

She stared at his photograph, entranced. John must be a great determination to have accomplished so much, and she found herself admiring and respecting him for being such a successful, self-made man.

The documents provided further information about John, such as his likes, dislikes, hobbies, and interests. She learned that he enjoyed reading, particularly history and biographies and that he was an avid fan of jazz music. He loved to travel and had been to several different countries, but he always made sure to return home to New Orleans, where he felt most at peace. His dislikes included rudeness, liars, and laziness. But most importantly of all, and to her utter shock, there was a handwritten letter from John himself, translated into Vietnamese.

Dear Huyen, it read. I hope this letter finds you well. After seeing your photographs and the video of you, I am confident when I say that you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and your gentle, caring personality is exactly what I am looking for in a wife. I hope you will consider choosing me as your husband, and let the agency know right away. I believe we would be an excellent match and I am more than able to care for you and any children we have. To prove this to you, I have enclosed my latest bank account statement. Please choose me, and let me show you what a wonderful husband I can be. You won’t regret it.

This was followed by a flourishing signature.

The words were simple, confident, and to the point. John must be a man who spoke plainly and went after what he wanted when he saw it, Huyen thought. He was simple and direct. She appreciated that. Then her eyes went to the account statement and she gasped.

The numbers were staggering. John’s bank account had over 50 million dollars in it. 50 million! She had never seen that much money in her life, and the thought of having that much wealth was overwhelming. It was almost too much to comprehend. But then she remembered the letter he had written and the sincerity in his words. He seemed like a genuinely nice man, and he wanted to share his life with her.

She stared at the photographs of him again. There was one of John standing on a balcony overlooking the Mississippi River, the setting sun casting a warm glow over his features. In another, he was sitting at a small café in the French Quarter, a mug of steaming coffee in his hand and a smile on his face. His eyes seemed to follow her wherever she went as if he could see right through the paper and into her very soul. Another had him standing on a beach in some exotic tropical location, shirtless and in his swimsuit. His body was well sculpted, and Huyen felt her mouth go dry.

Dazed, she put the envelope and its contents in her pocket. The next day, she went into Can Tho on some pretense and went to see Ly to inform her of her decision.

“So, Huyen,” Ly said with a smile, “it seems that you have made your choice. But are you sure John is the one you want? There are others.”

“No,” Huyen said. “I want John. Something about him…I do not know how or why, but I am drawn to him in a way that is difficult to describe.”

Ly smiled, nodding understandingly. “I’m glad to hear that. For what it’s worth, I think you’ve made a good choice. I would have chosen John too!” She gave Huyen a warm hug. “Congratulations, Huyen: you are now a mail-order bride, and soon you will start a new life in the United States! You are a very lucky girl; many others would give anything to be in your shoes right now.”

Huyen felt her heart soar.

“Now,” Ly continued, “it will take a few months to get your visa and the necessary paperwork completed, so be patient. You will receive your green card in the mail with your plane ticket, and we will send a car to pick you up and take you to the airport. I assure you, John isn’t going anywhere. When he saw your photograph, he was amazed and awestruck at your beauty.”

Huyen smiled shyly, feeling a warmth spread through her body. The wait had been agonizing, but it had been worth it.

“In the meantime, continue studying and brushing up on America,” Ly advised. “As mentioned in his portfolio, John lives in a city called New Orleans. Have you heard of it before you came to us?”

Huyen shook her head, embarrassed. “N-no. I’ve read a little about it in the books you gave me, but nothing more than that.”

Ly chuckled. “Oh, it’s a wonderful city. It’s known for its music, food, and unique culture. The people there are very friendly and welcoming. You’ll love it. It is a very unique place.”

Huyen nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and trepidation. As she left the office, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of hope growing in her heart. The journey ahead would undoubtedly be challenging, but with Ly’s guidance and the support of the agency, she knew she could overcome any obstacle.

She spent the next few months continuing to immerse herself in American culture and the city she’d be living in, reading the materials Ly gave her long into the night when her parents and siblings were asleep. She and Ly met several more times, and Ly made sure to talk to Huyen about the cultural differences and expectations she could expect to encounter. She wanted to ensure that Huyen was fully aware of what life would be like for her in John’s country.

“Americans are a very individualistic people,” she advised Huyen. “Their mindset and outlook are very different from we Vietnamese. Their philosophy is centered on the glorification of the individual in all things, even, at times, to the detriment of the collective whole. To us, it may seem selfish, even callous. They see it as allowing each person to succeed or fail on their merit.”

Huyen nodded, trying to grasp the nuances of this new culture she was about to enter. It was a far cry from the close-knit community of her village, where everyone knew each other and looked out for one another. But Ly assured her that she would not be alone. There were many other Vietnamese women in the United States, some of whom had made the same journey as she was about to make. They had formed support groups and communities that helped ease the transition from one culture to another.

“I wonder why John has not taken an American wife,” Huyen murmured. “Surely American women would find him as desirable as I do.”

Ly smiled. “Perhaps he has not found the right one yet. Or perhaps he prefers the exotic allure of Asian women. Whatever the reason, he chose you, Huyen. You, above all others. Many of our clients are not looking for love matches; they want beautiful women who will attend to their needs and give them children, in exchange for which the men provide stability and a very high standard of living. But John is smitten with you.”

Huyen blushed again, feeling both flattered and confused. It was hard for her to imagine why this man of wealth and consequence, halfway around the world, would want her. She was just a simple village girl, a farmer from a family of farmers.

“But…why?” she asked, looking down at her lap. “I…I am nothing special.”

Ly reached over and placed her hand gently on Huyen’s. “Ah, Huyen, you are so modest. Of course, you are special! John finds your beauty to be breathtaking, of course, but it is more than that. He also values your kindness and purity, and he finds your traditional values to be refreshing and very desirable. You were raised to value family above all else, and that is exactly what he is searching for. You are, in many ways, perfect for him, precisely because you are so uncomplicated. You see, in the West, many women are independent and strong-willed. They have careers, they are used to being in control of their own lives. While this is admirable in many ways, it can also be a challenge for a man like John, who is looking to settle down and find someone to share his life with. Someone who will take care of him, nurture him, and make his home a haven of peace and love. That is what you bring to the table, Huyen. You are the opposite of what he knows, and yet you are everything he desires.”

Huyen blushed modestly. “I...I am honored that you think so, Ly. But what if...what if I cannot meet his expectations? What if I am not enough for him? What if I fail him in some way and disgrace my family and my country?”

“You must not think that way, Huyen,” Ly said gently, patting her hand. “You are more than capable of meeting John’s expectations, and he doesn’t expect you to be perfect. He is well aware of the differences between your culture and his, and he is fascinated by them. He is not seeking to change you or mold you into someone you are not; he simply wants to share his life with you as you are. And as for disgracing your family or your country, you must remember that John is not one to judge people based on where they come from. He sees the best in you, and that is what he values.”

Huyen’s blush deepened. “I…I am honored by his trust,” she said. “I will not disappoint him. I will be the best wife for him that I can be.”

Ly patted her hand. “I know. And so does he. Now, I think it’s best that you head home before it gets too late. Your paperwork is being processed, but as I said before, it will take time. Just be patient, and remember: however long it takes, it’s still a fraction of the time it would take to get your visa the old-fashioned way.”

Ly wasn’t kidding. For three whole months, there was nothing. Nothing at all. But then, one morning, a telltale pink envelope came in the mail once more. Huyen’s heart pounded in her ears.

A green card—that coveted little piece of plastic—fell into her hand. Huyen clutched it like a priceless treasure. She couldn’t believe it! Tears formed in her eyes and streamed down her cheeks. This was it. After months of waiting, of hoping against hope, she had finally done it. She was going to America, and she was going to be John’s wife!

The envelope also contained a plane ticket, along with a thick roll of hundred dollar bills and a letter from John, telling her how excited he was to meet her and asking her to use the cash to ensure her journey was comfortable.

Huyen’s heart melted. What an incredibly thoughtful man John was! With tears streaming down her face, she hugged the envelope tightly to her chest, promising herself that she would make him proud to have chosen her as his wife.

She checked the flight information. It left in two weeks—more than enough time to settle her affairs. First, she’d have to tell her parents. The prospect was terrifying, but there was no going back now. John was waiting for her.

She broke the news to her family at dinner that night, over a meal of her mother’s famous stir-fry.

“Mother. Father,” she said. “I…I have news.”

Her parents exchanged glances, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. “Go on,” her father said.

Huyen told them everything, save the part about posing nude. Her parents’ expressions went from bewilderment to disbelief and shock as she told them of her interview, of Ly, and finally about John. Dead silence reigned around the table.

Her father was the first to speak. “You are a foolish child,” he said harshly. “You have disgraced this family and disgraced our name. How could you do such a thing? We have worked so hard to give you a good life, and you throw it all away for some American man you’ve never even met?”

“N-no! Father, it isn’t like that at all! I am so grateful for everything you have done for me, and I am not throwing it away! I am simply following my heart, and John is my heart. He is the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. Please, I beg of you, try to understand—“

“I understand all right!” he bellowed. “I understand that you’ve forsaken us for the same enemy I spent my youth fighting! I understand that you’ve betrayed your family and your country! I understand that you’ve sold yourself like common livestock!”

Huyen felt tears well in her eyes. “Father, please. I am not doing this to hurt you. I love you both, more than anything in the world. But this is my life, and I have to live it the way I choose. John and I have both agreed that we want to spend the rest of our lives together. He is a good man who will take care of me.”

“He’s a foreigner!” her father snapped. “And not only a foreigner but an American!” He pronounced the word like a curse.

Huyen flinched as though she’d been slapped. “Father, you don’t understand. John is different. He isn’t like the other Americans you’ve heard about. He loves me for who I am, and he respects our culture. He—“

“ENOUGH!” He roared. “I won’t have this, do you hear me? If you want to run off and marry some foreigner, then you are no longer my daughter! You are no longer a part of this family! Pack your things and get out of this house, this minute! I never want to see you again!”

Huyen buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

Her mother’s expression was one of quiet, unbearable sadness. “Huyen,” she said softly. “You are still our daughter and always will be. But if this is what you truly want, then we cannot stand in your way. We only want what is best for you. Please, forgive your father for his words. He is only upset. He does not mean them. He will come around.”

Huyen looked up, hope flickering briefly in her eyes. But her father’s expression was unyielding, his face set in stone. She knew there was no going back. Tears streamed down her face as she stood up. “I love you both,” she managed to choke out. “I always will. I hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive me, and see John for the good man he is.”

Her mother tried to smile as her father stormed out of the room. “I…I am sure he is,” she said. “And for what it’s worth, I wish you every happiness. But please, Huyen, promise me that you will always keep in touch with us. No matter how busy you are or how far away you are, send us letters, emails, pictures—anything to let us know that you’re doing well. Promise me you will not forget where you come from.”

Huyen embraced her. “Of course, Mama. I promise. I’ll write you every day, and I’ll call you as often as I can. You’ll never forget what I look like or the sound of my voice, and I will always keep Vietnam, the country of my birth, close to my heart.”

She sniffled, wiping her face with the back of her hand, and went to her room. All her siblings were there: her sisters, Minh, Hong, and Lan, and her two brothers, Hai and Binh. They had all heard the argument, and they were all looking at her with expressions of shock, sadness, pity, and—in the case of her sisters—growing curiosity.

“Tell us about him,” Minh said bluntly. At only 15 she was known throughout the village for her bluntness. “We want to know all the details. This foreigner may think he’s good enough for you, but we’ll need to judge for ourselves.”

“How can you be sure he’s who he says he is?” Bai added.

Huyen sighed. She sat down on her bed, gathering her thoughts. She wanted to believe that her family would eventually come around, but she knew it wouldn’t be easy. She took a deep breath and began to tell them about John.

“He is from a city called New Orleans,” she began, pausing to rummage through her small set of handmade drawers to dig out the portfolio about him the agency had sent her. She also withdrew a map of the United States. “It is located in the state of Louisiana, here.” The foreign name was difficult to pronounce.

Her siblings crowded around to look. “It’s surrounded by water,” Hong noted. “Like a giant rice paddy.”

Huyen smiled. “Yes, but it’s a river. The Mississippi River. The agency—the one that arranged all this for me—says that New Orleans is known for its music, food, and vibrant culture. It’s called the Big Easy because people there are very laid-back and friendly.”

“Or just lazy,” Binh noted with disapproval.

Huyen giggled. “No, not lazy. Just...different. Anyway, John is a man of wealth and consequence. He owns a very successful financial firm that he built himself. He is a self-made man.” Pride rang in her voice.

Her siblings exchanged glances. They had never known anyone wealthy. Even the most successful businessmen in their village were still just farmers at heart. The idea that someone could become rich by nothing more than their wits was fascinating to them.

“Just how wealthy is he?” Hai asked.

Huyen showed them the bank account statement John had sent her. “See for yourself.”

They looked, and they all gasped.

“Impossible!” Binh breathed. “It is not possible!”

Hong’s eyes were wide as dinner plates. “That is more money than we could ever hope to see in our lifetimes! But how can we be sure he is not lying to you, Huyen? This could all be a trap to lure you into some sort of marriage scam. We must be cautious, little sister. We must protect you at all costs.”

“The statement has his name on it, dummy,” Minh said. “It’s not a fake.”

“What would you even do with that much money?” Lan asked.

Huyen shrugged. She had never really thought about it. Her entire life had been about survival and helping her family make ends meet. The idea of having so much money at her disposal was almost beyond comprehension. “I have some pictures of him too,” she said. “Here, look.”

She showed them the pictures the agency had sent her. Hong, Lan, and Minh all sucked in a breath.

“Wow,” Minh breathed. “He’s gorgeous!”

Lan nodded. “Look how bright green his eyes are.”

Hong whistled. “And so tall, too.”

The siblings all crowded around Huyen, examining the pictures. They were filled with a mixture of curiosity and disbelief. They had never seen anyone who looked like John. He was so different from the men in their village.

“But how are you certain he’s who he says he is?” Bai asked.

Huyen sighed. She knew her family’s concerns were valid. But she had faith in the agency that had helped her find John. They wouldn’t have risked their reputation by sending her on a wild goose chase. “The agency is very careful and very selective about who they take on as clients. They do background checks and verify all the information before they even consider suggesting a match.”

“If he hurts you or makes you unhappy, Binh and I will kill him,” Hai promised.

“And don’t be worried about Dad,” Binh added. “Hai and I will speak to him. We all will. His words were harsh, but he was only concerned. He loves you, and once he sees that you and this foreigner are happy together, I think he will soften.”

“We’ll nag him until he does,” Minh promised.

Huyen smiled gratefully at her brother’s fierce declaration and the support of her siblings. “Thank you, all of you. I love you too, and I promise to write often and keep you updated on everything. I will send money home whenever I can, too.”

“We’ll miss you,” Lan said, her lip quivering. “When…when do you leave?”

“In two weeks,” Huyen admitted.

The siblings exchanged glances. “Then we will make sure you have everything you need,” Binh declared.

The next two weeks were a whirlwind of activity. Word of Huyen’s upcoming journey spread like wildfire and became the talk of the village. Other girls asked over and over to see pictures of John again and again, and everywhere Huyen went, people stopped and asked her about it. Most of the villagers seemed supportive or even envious, though a few disapproved. Her father remained coldly distant, but she tried not to let it bother her too much. She had faith that, in time, he would indeed come around. Huyen spent her remaining days in the village helping out around the farm like she always had, spending as much time with her mother and siblings as possible, and writing down endless pieces of advice and tips from the village women on how to be a good wife.

One old woman advised, “Never let your man wear white. It shows every piece of dirt and is tiresome to clean. He’ll come home at the end of the day looking like he’s been rolling in dust.”

Another woman whispered, “Always cook his favorite dish on his birthday. The quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

“If possible, try not to let him talk much on your wedding night. Otherwise, he might ruin the mood.”

The days flew by, and before she knew it, it was almost time for Huyen to leave. The day before her departure, the whole village presented her with gifts to take with her. Her mother gave her a cookbook of her favorite recipes, while her brothers and sisters gave her small trinkets and keepsakes from each of them. Other gifts included jars of traditional Vietnamese sweets like candied fruits and sesame balls, as well as jars of jams, jellies, and other foods for her to take with her. But by far the greatest gift was a hand-sewn, stunningly beautiful ao dai for her to wear, made of soft, pure white silk with elegant gold embroidery. Huyen couldn’t hold back her tears as her mother presented it to her.

“All the village women helped me make this for you,” her mother said. “Wear it on your journey, so your husband can see how beautiful you truly are.”

Huyen embraced her mother tightly. “Thank you! Thank all of you!” she cried. “I will miss you all so much!”