“Oh, come on, boys,” I tried.
“Says our dad, who went on a TV show and pulled,” one of them said, and I just wanted to die. Again.
“We watchedSingles Barlast year, and I mean, I have to say it.Save the Dateis miles better. Firstly? It has Gina DeSanto. Fit as hell, really funny, and Mum always said she was the only sane celebrity she knew. So she’s good in my book. No idea why she agreed to do such a small show, but it’s kind of exploded now.”
Not what I wanted to hear, and Oliver’s hand landed on my leg. Like he knew exactly what that twitch of my body meant.
“Gina DeSanto follows Cal on Insta,” Ed declared.
“She does not. It’s a fan account. Fake or whatever.”
“Bullshit.”
“Fuck off.”
“Singles Bar,” Ed continued. “No sex. No hookups. Just couples sitting talking. Speed dating live and direct. Great concept.”
“But so badly done. I mean, we were sitting there shouting at the screen. That Francesca and Bill…Bob? What was his name?”
“Bruno,” Cal filled in. “Hot couple. They’re sat behind another couple, out of focus, obviously snogging, very obviously hand-on-boob moment, and the camera is on some other couple talking about crosswords. It was like…man? What were they thinking? It was like, never mentioned again, and the drama that followed?”
“I hope they fired everyone after that. Such a massive mistake.”
“Huge.” Cal laughed. “At least on your show, they didn’t miss anything. And I mean, anything. Wren was naked at least four times in the first three episodes, and…”
“Enough.” I had to say it.
“Open and honest.” Ed smirked. “You said it, Dad. We’re just being, just that.”
“I know.” I sighed.
“It was a shitshow. A total shitshow, and sorry, Mary, but I know Peter agrees with me.”
Oliver was talking. The boys listening like he was preaching to the masses. And me, just letting every syllable coming out of his mouth register like music.
Who was I? Seriously?
I nodded. Like I agreed.
“But…I said this to your dad earlier, despite the whole mess of being on the inside? We had some…good moments. Being in there with Peter was the only good thing to come out of this.”
“Luurve,” Cal mocked, and winked. Not at me. At Oliver.
“Well…” Oliver smiled, now looking at me. “We… If anything good was to come out of this experience, it was sharing it with him. Everything else? It’s a bit of a blur.”
“Not really. It was pretty clear on TV.” Ed laughed.
“Can we just…not?” I demanded. “Can we just talk about…football. Anything else.”
“Dad, why did you not go to pickleball? If I have to fend off James-bloody-Green’s calls again, I will actually tell him that you’ve abandoned your team to stay at home and shag your new boyfriend.”
I wanted to scream. Shout. Defend myself and berate my son for being an…idiot.
“You’re the team captain, Dad. You don’t show up, and things fall apart. Do you really want James Green to steal your title? Do you want Shah to be captain? He’s been after your spot for years. You said it yourself.”
“I’ve told them I’m away,” I grumped.
“But you’re not…are you?” Cal grinned.
