“Leonard,” I say with a nod. “I am so sorry, but I did not make that date with you. Someone has been impersonating me on dating sites. Several men have shown up here claiming to have made a date with me when I knew nothing about it. It appears you’ve fallen victim to someone’s catfishing scheme. You seem nice, and if things were different, I would probably enjoy going on a date with you, but I’m afraid I’m already seeing someone.”
The brown-suited man sighs, his shoulders slumping. “It’s Nick, isn’t it?” he asks, with resignation in his voice. “I could tell that day with the sauce. The way you two looked at each other was electric.”
“Who’s Nick?” comes a harsh whisper from behind me, a stark reminder that Mr. Landon and I have an audience. “Is that the man with the goat?”
“I should get going, Tina. Sorry to have bothered you. Let me know if things don’t work out with Nick. I’d love to tell you all about my work with documentary films.” True to form, he trips over his own feet as he turns around, but catches himself before he crashes to the sidewalk. “I’ll see you around.” He says without looking back.
“Where are these guys coming from?” I mutter through my teeth. “I don’t even use dating sites. This makes no sense. And whoever is doing this does not understand catfishing at all.”
My mother steps forward from the gaggle of women, each of them staring at me with a serious expression. “I think I might know something about that,” she says without looking me in the eye.
My stomach turns as a lump of suspicion grows in my chest. “Mom.What did you do?”
“Shit”
Tina
As I scroll throughfake Tina Falcone profiles on dating app after dating app, from the phones of my mother and my aunts, anger burns hotter in my belly. Sothisis where all the dates have been coming from.
My meddling family took it upon themselves to create these profiles, scroll through the available men, and start conversations with them. As far as I can tell, their only requirement for accepting dates was that the man be interested, and willing to pick me up at work. Nothing else. There was no vetting process in place, at least not one that made itself apparent with a quick read of the messages they’d exchanged. Ifthey asked “me” out, the owner of the phone, and apparently the administrator of that phone’s dating app, would accept and set the date, ensuring they knew to meet me at the restaurant.
I’m so pissed off I don’t even want to tell them they could have added more than one app per phone. It’s not like there’s a limit.
“I can’t believe you,” I whisper, dropping the last phone into the pile of discarded phones on the coffee table. “What the hell were you thinking?”
My mother wrings her hands and pulls her lips between her teeth, but says nothing, sensing I’m not really looking for an answer to that. I shoot a glare at my aunts, who are crowded into the tiny kitchen of my apartment, looking embarrassed. Good. They should be ashamed after what they’ve done.
As soon as my mother confessed to knowing something about the random men showing up to date me, everything clicked into place. The older pictures of me, the dates, the confirmation texts the men received. Everything. Before she’d even confessed, I knew this problem would be traced back to my mother. She’s been begging me to let her be my matchmaker for years. I guess she was tired of my refusals, because she decided to go ahead and do it anyway, using the power of modern technology and my aunts as willing accomplices. I’m a little disappointed that it took this long for me to figure it out, actually.
Nonna sits on my couch, making the odd tsk noise as she reads through her Spring Chickens brochures. She, at least, had no part in this scheme.
“This has gone too far, Mom. You can see that, can’t you?” I wait for an answer this time, but only get the barest of nods from her. “Never mind that this scheme was a huge overstep on your part. Do you even know what kinds of men you’ve been sending my way? Mr. Landon was the best of the bunch,and the only one I’d everconsidereven speaking to. I mean, literally everything about him screams boring, but at least he’s nice, and treats women like they’re human beings. The other guys…Gah!” I splutter and throw up my hands. I take a different tack, thinking some definitions might be helpful in helping her understand. “Do you know whatincelmeans, Mom? Orred-pill? Or what aboutalpha male?” She shakes her head. “Well, you must know what misogyny is, right?” A nod. Okay, good. Now we’re getting somewhere. “Well, basically, the men you sent were raging misogynists. The kind of guys who believe that women should literally be barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen. That women are here to serve men and nothing more. Is that the kind of man you would choose for me? Is that who you think dad is?”
Her head shoots up, and she gives it a vehement shake. “No. No way, Valentina. Your dad isn’t like that. And that’s not what I would want for you, either.”
My aunts all mutter their agreements, confirming their belief that my dad is a good man, and that they’d never choose the kind of man I’d just described to be my partner.
“I had a man waiting for me in my apartment last night. One of the menyou allchose.” A collective gasp is the only response. “Don’t worry. I took care of it. But it could have been a lot worse. And that happened even though I’m two doors down from the police station. Dating is different these days. A man doesn’t get to know where you live until he proves he is safe. This man was not safe.”
I hear a sniffle and look over to see my aunts all swiping at their eyes and noses, trying not to look directly at me. Then I look at my mother. Tears stream down her face and she makes no attempt to wipe them away. “Oh, Valentina. I’m so sorry. I had no idea. We were so worried that you would be lonely living here all byyourself. After five years here, you still haven’t found anyone, so we thought we’d help you.”
“I’ve told you countless times, Mom, I’m happy with my life the way it is.” At least, I was before I met Nick. Now I’m not so sure I want to be alone for the rest of my life. Not only that, now I have Carson to worry about. I’ve been looking out for him for so long that it’s only natural for me to continue. He’s practically family already. “I didn’t meet anyone because I wasn’t looking. I saw the way you were with dad and I didn’t want that for myself.”
Her head snaps up, cheeks still wet, but her eyes are steely. “What do you meanhow I was with dad?”
I shrug, rolling my eyes. “I know he’s a good man, but I also know he’s practically helpless around the house.”
She scoffs. “Your father is anything but helpless, Valentina. What on earth makes you think that?”
Less sure of myself now, I say, “Because he’s never set foot in the kitchen? Because I’ve never seen him clean anything?”
My mother barks a laugh, and my aunts giggle along with her. I have the distinct feeling I’m about to get schooled, and I’m not sure I’m ready for it.
“Really? That’s your issue? Your father never set foot in the kitchen because I never allowed it. I told him before we ever got married, if he ever tried to interfere with my cooking, he’d get nothing but peanut butter sandwiches for the rest of his life. He has a tendency to cut himself, and I had no interest in driving to the hospital because he couldn’t figure out how to use a knife. But the cleaning thing? Tell me this, in your entire life have you ever seen me clean the bathrooms? Mop a floor?”
My mouth drops open as I realize with a start that no, I have never seen those things. “Wait. You’re saying all these years, Dad cleaned the bathrooms? He’s the one who mopped the floors?”
She nods, her grin just a little smug. “Do you really think your Nonna would allow her son to grow up thinking he didn’t have to take part in caring for his home? For his family?”
