Chapter 18 - Becca - Two Months Wasted
My date and I are saying goodbye outside of the restaurant where I just sat through the least exciting two hours of my life. This is the eighth date my mom has set me up with and it’s my eighth strike out. If I were a baseball player, the fans would be getting angry. But I’m not, and the only one getting angry is me.
After nearly two months of shitty dates, you’d be getting angry, too.
“Well, Troy,” I say, “it was interesting to meet you. Thank you for dinner.” He’d insisted on paying even though I’d made it clear I was perfectly happy to pay for my own meal. Even if the rest of the date had been good, the manner in which he’d rudely insisted he would pay would have turned me off of him. He was almost aggressive in his insistence.
“Yeah, sure. You bet. So… should I follow you home, or what?” Troy asks, leering down the front of my dress, not even attempting to hide the fact that he’s staring at my boobs. “Or do you want to come to my place?”
I snort out a laugh, managing to turn it into a cough at the last second, when I realize he’s serious. This guy thinks I’m sleeping with him? What date was he on? We barely spoke, and when we did, he was trying to mansplain photography to me. A man who admitted he’d never even touched a camera tried to explain how cell phone cameras were just as good as any DSLR on the market, and that only suckers would pay a photographer to take pictures of their events when they could just ask their guests to all take photos on cell phones and get the same results.
Yeah, I’m sure you can guess how impressed I was. I mean, yeah, you can take some decent pictures on cell phones these days, but that doesn’t mean my skill set and chosen profession is obsolete.
“Sorry Troy, it’s just not going to work out. I don’t think we have any chemistry. Goodbye.” I turn and hurry to my car, not letting him get another word in. I know I’ll hear about this from my mom, but I can’t care about that right now. This guy was a nightmare.
Cell phone cameras? Is he serious? What the hell is wrong with this guy? How could he think telling me that my job was unneeded and could be done just as well by any idiot with a smartphone was a good idea?
I lock the doors as soon as I get into my car, just in case Troy takes offense to being shot down. He seems like one of those guys who would follow a woman just to yell at her about what she’s missing out on. I don’t think he’d get violent, but better safe than sorry.
I listen to a little Sleeping Dogs on the way home. It’s hard to believe that the lead singer of the band is the same guy who broke Alex’s heart all those years ago when we first met. And it’s even harder to believe that they’ve reconnected and are more in love than ever.
Thinking about Alex and Connor has me thinking about Johnny. He sure is persistent, but he’s kept his word and is just being a friend. He’s actually become my best friend other than Alex. We’ve hung out so many times since that day at the tattoo shop. Sadly, there’s been no repeats of that amazing orgasm he gave me, but that’s for the best. We also see each other at least once a week at Alex and Connor’s place for family dinner on Sundays. He hasn’t brought up the thought of us being together again, so I suppose he really is content to just be friends. Although, sometimes I do catch him looking at me with puppy dog eyes.
I kind of like it when he looks at me like that.
I feel bad for telling him about my one night only deal. Like maybe I should have given him a shot or something. Plus, I missed out on what I think would have been the most amazing sex of my life by telling him that. I wouldn’t have tricked him into it, or anything, but it would have been nice to get him into my bed. I’m sure it would have been something I’d never forget.
My phone starts ringing before I’m even home.
Mom’s calling.
Looks like Troy has already tattled on me. What I don’t need after yet another shitty date like that is a lecture from my mother, but I don’t think I’ll have much choice. I should have turned my phone off right away because now she knows that it’s on, she’s going to keep calling until I answer.
“Hi Mom,” I answer as soon as I pull into my parking spot at the apartment. “I was driving. Sorry I didn’t pick up.”
“I thought I told you to get thatbluetooththing to connect when you’re in the car. Why didn’t you listen to me?”
“I have bluetooth, Mom. It just didn’t connect this time.”
“Well, fix it. I can’t have you ignoring my calls.”
“Sure thing, Mom. I’ll get it looked at tomorrow.” No, I won’t. I don’t want to answer the phone when she calls any more than I have to. A few minutes in the car is all the reprieve I get, unless I’m doing a shoot.
“Troy called me. He said you were very rude to him.”
I roll my eyes so hard I see my brain. “Is that so? I thought it was rude when he told me any person with a cell phone could do my job better than me.”
“Oh, honey. You know you can’t afford to be so picky, what with the way you look. Not a lot of men are going to want to lie next to that every night, you know.”
“Yes, mother. So you’ve said.”
“Don’t take that tone with me. I’m just trying to help you. That’s all I’ve done my whole life. Ever since that accident I haven’t been able to sleep a wink thinking that you’d be alone for the rest of your life. And imagine how I felt when your father left because he couldn’t look at you? And forget about me ever finding someone else. No man would want a woman with a child, let a child with such a grotesque disfigurement. So I’ve been alone all this time, too. I’ve given up everything in my life for you, Rebecca. I would think you would be thankful for having such a dedicated and loving mother.”
I cover the mouthpiece on my phone and exhale loudly through my nose, a scream building behind my clenched teeth.
She tears me down to feel better about herself. I know this. But it hurts when she does it just the same. I don’t know the real reason my dad left, but it wouldn’t surprise me if it was because of her, not me. There’s always that little voice in the back of my head that tells me it’s my fault, though. Funnily enough, that voice sounds just like my mother.
“You’re right. I’m sorry, Mom. I must just be disappointed the date didn’t go well. Maybe you should just give up now? You’ve introduced me to what, eight or nine different men? I probably am meant to be alone after all, just like you said.” I send up a silent prayer that she’ll give up. I don’t know how much longer I can do this before I murder one of these losers she sets me up with. She’s scraping the bottom of the barrel and expecting me to be grateful for the scum she finds there.
