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My mom, who can’t seem to help herself, tells me, “You also came home to meet a nice, normal girl.”
“I’m not interested in meeting anybody.” I bite into a croissant like I’m trying to kill it.
“Eva really did a number on you, didn’t she?” Great, my dad’s joined forces against me.
I pick up my napkin and wipe my mouth before dropping it on the table. “You think? We weren’t even married for two years when she left.”
My mom tips her head to the side and practically dissects me with her eyes. “Yes, but you were starting to go out with some nice girls when you got home. What’s changed?”
I release the breath I’ve been holding. “I think I started dating too soon.”
She looks at me sadly. “You don’t still love Eva, do you?”
“Geez, Mom, I don’t know. I married her and thought we were going to have a life together. You don’t just fall out of love, you know.”
She reaches over and pats my hand. “I imagine not, dear, but the fact that she left you for some NBA player certainly says a lot about the quality of person she is.”
My dad puts his paper down. “Would it make more sense if she left him for a guy in the NHL?”
“Not at all,” my mom assures him. “I’m just saying that leaving a perfectly lovely man like our son for a sports figure she barely knows makes it clear Eva was nothing but a gold digger. She’s certainly not someone to pine after.”
I push my chair back in hopes of making my escape. “I’mnotpining after her. I’m just sad my dream has been shattered.”
“You’re young,” my dad assures me. “You can fall in love and still see your dreams come to fruition.”
Standing up, I tell him, “I’m not ready for that, yet.”
“Take your time.”
Clearly my dad isn’t as worried as my mom, who admonishes, “You’re not getting any younger, and I would love some grandbabies to play with.”
“Then you’d better talk to Jonathon,” I tell her. “He’s four years older than me and he hasn’t had kids yet.”
“Jonathon’s gay,” my dad says like that has anything to do with becoming a parent.
“You do realize that gay people become parents,” my mom says.
“Well, sure. But Jonathan and Jacob are always traveling. I’m not sure they evenwantkids.” I love how my dad is sticking up for my brother and not me.
“I’m not married anymore,” I tell them both. “So, my timeline for starting a family has shifted. Why don’t you hit the pound for a dog if you need something to nurture?”
My mom’s blonde bob moves from side to side violently as she shakes her head. “No pets. I want to travel, and I don’t want the responsibility of taking care of anybody or anything.”
And I don’t want to discuss dating, children, or my mother’s annoyance with my dad. “I’m off to work,” I tell them while making my exit.
My mom calls after me, “Will you be home for supper?”
I briefly turn toward her. “I’ve got a super busy day, so don’t count on me.” Relief flows through me as soon as I walk out of the room.
I should probably start looking for a house of my own, but I’ve been so busy at work, I haven’t gotten around to it. Plus, the only time I see my parents is for meals—meals I happily don’t always attend. Honestly, it would be the perfect arrangement if only they’d stop insinuating themselves into every aspect of my life.
As I park my car in the owner’s spot at the Elk Lake Country Club, I accept that my parents are only pushing me because theylove me. And yes, Ididstart dating a lot when I came home, but I had only been divorced for a few months at the time. It wasn’t until Missy Corner told me she didn’t want to see me anymore that I realized I wasn’t even enjoying the dates I was going on. It was too much work trying to pretend I was happy, when in truth I felt like my insides were being ripped apart by a ravenous bear.
As I walk into the club, I’m nearly run over by a petite blonde. I reach my arms out in time to catch Paige Holland before we both go crashing to the ground. Paige and I were in school together from the time we were in kindergarten. We never ran in the same crowd, but I’ve started to get to know her as an adult through Missy. Missy and I have remained friends despite our brief dating history.
“Why are you in such a hurry?” I ask Paige, while simultaneously realizing it’s nice to have someone in my arms again. I lean down and sniff her hair. She smells like night blooming jasmine.
She looks decidedly shaken up as she steps back and says, “Hey, Tim. I’m … um … well …” She inhales deeply before telling me, “I’ve just come from my welcome interview with the producers ofMidwestern Matchmaker. I was so nervous my sweat glands responded like the little Dutch boy just pulled his finger out of the dike.”
