Sure enough, she was at the gate this morning, and she looked sexy. Her long, thick brown hair, cascading over her shoulders and down her back, her ass looking perfect in those jeans and that damn cute freckle on her nose. Well, I need to forget about her.
I just thought I was making progress. I thought dating Blake would help.
Blake Jones. She’s tall, blonde, and bold—a real go-getter in the real estate world. We met at a brokers’ tour, both pausingin front of a peculiar painting of a pear, laughing at how its shape resembled something vaguely anatomical. By the time we walked through the house together, she handed me her card with confidence, “I noticed you’re not wearing a wedding ring. I’m Blake Jones with Blake Jones Property Group.”
I was impressed. She was a knock-out.
“I’m Will Parker,” I said.
“I know,” she chided with a pop of her shoulder. “Call me.”
And then she walked out of the room with the pear looking vagina painting, leaving me a little shook up. It was good to feel something again, like I could get back in the game.
When I told my best friend Evan about her, he said, “Get back on the horse—or at least take it for a ride.” Classic Evan.
Blake wasn’t aone-night-stand kind of woman, though. When I finally called her a week later, she said, “I was starting to think you lost my card. Glad you found it.” I asked her out, and that was that.
It started casually. I didn’t think I’d be ready to date anyone after Natalie, but Blake made herself a part of my world before I even realized it. She was assertive, always making plans, and before I knew it, she was asking about meeting my kids.
That felt like a line I wasn’t ready to cross, but Blake had a way of pushing without being pushy. “It’s not like I’m asking to meet the President,” she teasedone night over dinner. “They’re just kids. I promise I’ll keep it easy.”
Maybe that’s why I finally agreed. Blakewaseasy. She wasn’t complicated or emotionally draining, and maybe that’s exactly what I needed.
My boys, Chase and Carter, didn’t seem fazed about the introduction, typical middle schoolers, with other things on their minds. Carter mentioned later she was “hot,” which made me laugh and cringe at the same time. Ivy wasinstantly fascinated by her diamond bracelets and asked endless questions about what was in her fancy handbag.
But Madison? She barely acknowledged Blake, then threw out questions that made me wince. “Are you even old enough to drink?” Madison asked, crossing her arms.
Blake gave a nervous laugh. “Age is irrelevant when you’re over25.”
Madison tilted her head. “Are you25?”
Blake smiled tightly. “I’m29.”
Madison rolled her eyes. “Hmm. You remind me of that girlfriend from “The Parent Trap”—theone with Lindsay Lohan who plays a twin, and the sisters switch places. You were probably like three years old when it came out.”
I tried to intervene. “Madison, that’s enough.”
“Whatever, can I be excused?” she muttered. I let her go, sighing as I watched her stomp up the stairs.
I apologized to Blake. “I am sorry for that childish behavior.”
Blake chuckled, “Will, you’re a great dad, doing your best. Daddy’s little girl is just going through a lot of teenage hormones.”
Later, I went to Madison’s room to talk.
“Madison, that was inappropriate. You can’t speak to adults that way.”
“She’s hardly an adult,” Madison shot back. “You could be her dad.”
“Madison, I’m forty-three. I could not be her dad.”
“Whatever. It’s gross,” she said, floppingonto her bed.
“Look, you don’t have to like her, but you do have to be respectful.”
She rolled her eyes again. “Sure, Dad. Whatever.”
I walked out, shaking my head. I was in for it.
