“I know and I’m sorry, but I had the best time tonight, and I have to tell you all about it.”
Intrigued, Amy shifted in her recliner to get comfortable. “Do tell.”
“I joined Single Mingles.”
“What?” The papers on her lap almost fell on the floor with her jolt of surprise. “You didn’t.”
“I did. And guess what? It isn’t as dopey as we thought. In fact, it was a blast, and you should join.”
Amy rolled her eyes. “Not this conversation again.”
“This is different. I’m not asking you to join another dating site,” Laura said.
“Good, because that’s not happening.” Despite her warnings to Britt, and even though she knew the pitfalls of the internet, four years ago she’d agreed to sign up for a dating website and was promptly contacted by a slew of middle-aged guys who only wanted two things—sex and money. “I’m still getting over the trauma.”
“These are real people. And they like having a good, clean time.”
“That’s nice. But no. I’m not interested.”
“Amy, you can’t live the rest of your life hiding from fun.”
“I have fun. Brittany and I do lots of fun things.” Well, not lots. But enough. Her daughter was twenty-eight and Amy didn’t want to hover. Although she considered Britt closer than a best friend, they didn’t have much in common, and never really had. Brittany had always been an introverted child, while Amy was more extroverted. Being around teenagers all day gave her plenty of interaction—in the case of the end-of-the-year scramble,exhaustinginteraction.
“Amy...”
She could feel her friend building up for another truth session, and she had to cut that off at the pass. “Laura, I’m really glad you had a great time with your singles and that you want to include me. But I have papers to finish grading and a bedtime to meet.”
“But—”
“I’ll call you tomorrow. At a decent hour.” Amy smiled and hung up, knowing Laura wouldn’t take it personally. That was one of many things she liked about her friend—she was levelheaded, intelligent, and logical. Above all, she was honest, and normally Amy appreciated that. But not tonight.
She finished the rest of the finals by eleven thirty and crawled into bed. As she turned off the light, their conversation came back to her mind. It had been seven years since Laura’s husband’s untimely death from a heart attack, and she had entered the dating market a year and a half ago. It was difficult to find romance in middle age, but she was persevering.“I know my other Mr. Right is out there somewhere,”she insisted.
Amy thought she’d had her Mr. Right, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. The only good thing to come out of their relationship was Brittany. Daniel had killed her desire for a romantic relationship years ago. Twenty, to be exact.
She rolled over in bed. For years, she counted every day a blessing since she and Daniel divorced. He’d made her life a swamp of misery. To top it off, he abandoned Britt. Logically she knew all men weren’t like him. She also knew people who had successful marriages. Her parents, for example. Lots of couples at church too. And Laura wasn’t the only one wanting Amy to find a partner. It seemed everyone in her life, other than Britt, was eager for her to get married again.
She sighed. Although Britt didn’t talk about it, Amy had to wonder if she was feeling pressure from anyone to start dating. While she wished Britt was more outgoing, she had to respect her nature, and she tried to gently encourage her to get out more. Her daughter didn’t seem unhappy, or that her life was lacking anything. And her video channel was something to be proud of. She’d taken her degree in graphic design and turned it into a profitable and educational enterprise.
But will she live with me forever?
Amy had to admit, she wouldn’t mind if she did. And Britt had never said anything about dating. In school she was more interested in art than boys, and Amy wasn’t in any hurry for her to find a liar, cheat, and downright horrible man like her father.
Flopping over again, she closed her eyes and counted down from one hundred. If she continued to muse about Laura, Single Mingles, Britt, and—shudder—Daniel, she’d never get to sleep. Only two more weeks of school left, and she could relax...
***
“You still haven’t told your mom that you’re talking to your dad?”
Britt and Savannah were taking a walk around her neighborhood. It was a perfect day for a stroll. Savannah loved to walk, and every time she and Britt went on one, Britt promised herself that she would try to walk on a regular basis. But then she’d get caught up in her work or her art, and exercise fell to the wayside.
She glanced at her friend. They had met at church youth group fifteen years ago, when they were both thirteen. She’d never had a friend like Savannah before, someone who understood and accepted Britt’s quirks, particularly her annoying bouts of anxiety. Those had peaked during her school years, but she occasionally had issues when meeting new people and being around large groups in unfamiliar places. Social anxiety, her counselors had called it. She’d also read several blogs online to see if she was the only one who had that problem. Turned out she wasn’t. It also turned out that most of the people online who admitted to having social anxiety had jobs where they didn’t have to deal with people in person. Just like she did.
Savannah didn’t have an anxiety problem, and she made friends easily. She was also beautiful. Her Hispanic, olive-toned skin took on a golden glow in the spring and summer months under the Texas sun, and she not only walked regularly, she also enjoyed going to the gym—something else Britt didn’t want to do. But she appreciated her friend going at a slower pace so they could talk without Britt losing her breath.
“I haven’t mentioned it yet,” she said, finally answering Savannah’s question.
“How long have you been in contact with him?”
