“Sorry!” I say. “Come on in.” I step back so they and their camera equipment can fit into the hallway. “You’ve met Rosie here, and my daughterThea is—” I turn around and startle, becauseThea is suddenly standing about two inches behind me. “Apparently practicing her teleportation skills.” I sign this as I say it.
Thea’s eyes grow huge when she sees my sparkle-covered face. “What happened to you?”
“One guess,” I sign back.
She looks at her sister and snickers. I introduceThea to the crew while the cameramen try to get their equipment past Rosie, who is dancing around them, possibly thinking they’re filming right now.
I gently tug her down the very crowded hallway to break up the traffic jam. We’re already off to a stellar start.
“Does this work?” I ask, gesturing to the living room. “It’s not big, but . . .”
But I did manage to clean up the twenty-some semi-naked Barbies scattered around and also vacuumed up the crumbs fromThea’s toasted bagel this morning, since she—way more than her five-year-old sister—can never seem to eat anything without making it look like a bomb went off.
“This’ll be fantastic,” Nate says. “Let us set up and we can get started.”
Kristin signs this forThea, and Nate and the cameramen check out the lighting in my living room and get things set up—including mic packs for me and my daughters. Kristin pulls over a chair from the kitchen table for herself, andThea and Rosie settle in the loveseat together; no way are they missing this.Thea signs at Rosie to scoot over, and Rosie signs back that she can’t or she’ll smoosh her wings.Thea acts exasperated, but she’s the one who adjusts Rosie’s wings so they can sit even closer.
My heart swells, as it always does when I see them like that.Then I turn to the decorative mirror on one of the walls and check out the glitter damage.
Good god, you can barely see that there’s a person under there. I hurriedly grab some wet wipes from a stash in the drawer of the end table and use about a dozen to wipe my face as clean as possible. Meanwhile, I find myself checking out Nate in the mirror.
He’s got curly black hair pulled back into a short ponytail, and he’s got these perfectly sculpted arms. His blue fitted shirt looks great against his deep copper-brown skin, and—
What the hell am I doing? Ogling a producer of the dating show I’m about to go on, that’s what. A dating show in which I will be dating another guy.
I tug my attention away. My face is now mostly visible, though I still have a clump of glitter in my right eyelashes, not to mention in my hair and all over my clothes. So much for my careful outfit selection.
“I don’t think I can get this all out,” I say, turning back to the crew. Kristin is already signing this forThea even though I wasn’t talking to her, which I appreciate. I try to sign wheneverThea’s in the room, even when she doesn’t seem to be paying attention. It’s not fair for her to miss out on a conversation that a hearing kid in the same situation would be listening to. “I don’t know if even a shower will do it, but I could try.”
“Nah,” Nate says. “Leave it.The viewers will get lots of chances to see you without glitter.”
“I guess if you want to see who I really am, this is it. A mom covered in sparkly craft material. Might as well lean into it.”
“Perfect,” he says with that grin, and my pulse picks up.
The cameras are set up now, along with some extra lights, and I perch nervously on the edge of the couch. Nate sits in the armchair, positioned out of sight of the cameras, which are on the kids and me.
“Okay,” he says. “Why don’t you tell us about yourself, Becca.”
My mouth goes dry. I’ve already had to do several casting interviews, but I never really thought I would get picked for the show. Now that lens is staring me down like the Eye of Sauron.
“I, um. I’m Becca, like I said. Becca Hale.” I clear my throat. “I’m a single mom, with two incredible girls.Thea is ten and Rosie is five. I’m currently working on a business degree—my in-laws are awesome and really supportive and watch the girls while I’m at school.” Now to the part I know they really want to hear.The reasons I got picked for this show, I’m sure. “My girls and I—and my in-laws, too—all know sign language, because my daughterThea was born deaf.The girls’ father—my husband, Rob—passed away three years ago, he was active duty military and—”
I’ve told this story about a hundred times in my life, but I cut off because I notice my knee is jiggling.
Nate’s smile is sympathetic. “Hey, it’s okay. I know how nerve-wracking it can be in front of the camera, but it’ll get easier as we go. Just remember, we’re not out to get you. We just want to learn more about you.”
I let out a breath. “Okay, yeah.”
“Also, it would be great if you could restate the question with your answer—like ‘I decided to apply for the show because . . .’ Not to spoil the next question for you.” He winks, a gesture I didn’t think could be done in a non-creepy way until this very moment.
“So, Becca,” he says. “Why did you decide to apply for the show?”
That answer is more complicated than could fit in a sound bite. But I can try.
“My friend Cece signed me up for this, actually. She thinks I’ve been in a love life slump for a while now, which is probably true.” I’ve been in a love life slump for a lot longer than she or anyone else realizes, but I’m not about to say that. Or mention that I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to get back out there, even with Prince Charming. “I was pretty sure I didn’t want to be dating in front of millions of people—I mean, dates are awkward enough, right? But then I thought it could be an adventure of sorts, and maybe I could use some more of that in my life. Not that parenting isn’t its own adventure, but putting myself out there isn’t something I’ve always been good at, and I think it’s time I start trying.” I cringe because I’m both rambling and sounding ridiculous, even though it’s all true. I don’t know what to say beyond that, and Nate is looking at me expectantly, so I stutter something nonsensical about proving that I can be brave, which is also true but sounds even worse. Finally I just ask, “Is that enough of an answer?”
“Yeah, for sure. Just so you know, I’m not going to cut you off or interrupt you, because it’s bad for the audio. So don’t feel the need to wait for that. Just answer however you want, and when you’re done you can stop talking.”
