If he hadn’t said that thing about the dating show, I would have forgotten the interaction immediately (well, immediately after I’d given Dave the 793840329840thversion of my ‘Can you please not tell customers I’m single? You know it makes them hit on me’ lecture). Being a petite blonde lady mechanic meant that men said far grosser things to me on a daily basis. I mostly just filed them away in the ‘ugh, just another day in the office’ box in my brain.
But hehadsaid that thing about the dating show.
I knew exactly which dating show he meant. I watchedMarry Me, Juliet(where a bunch of women compete for one man),Wherefore Art Thou Romeo?(where a bunch of men compete for one woman), andJuliet on the Beach(where a bunch of rejected contestants get drunk and hook up on a beach) religiously. I followed a lot of past contestants on Instagram, too. I was a pretty dedicated fan.
The thought of actually being on the show had never occurred to me, though.
Huh.
Interesting.
I wish I could say it was more complicated than that. That I weighed up all my options carefully. That I really thought about it seriously.
But nope. I decided to apply forMarry Me, Julietjust after lunch on a Tuesday because a customer suggested it while indulging in a spot of light sexual harassment.
‘Mandie, no!’ Mum said, when I told her my plans over dinner that night. ‘That’s a terrible idea.’
‘Don’t you want me out of my old bedroom?’ I asked,spooning more potato bake onto my plate. ‘Just think, Mum – if I got on the show, you’d have your house to yourself again.’
‘You know I love having you here,’ she said. ‘You can stay as long as you want. But that doesn’t change the fact that this is an awful idea.’
‘No, it’s not,’ I said, shifting my attention to the salad. Mum had put croutons in it, the fancy kind that she made herself from sourdough. ‘It’s a great idea. It’ll be fun. It’ll be an adventure. Think of all the ballgowns I’d get to wear. All that free champagne. Those fancy dates they go on, with all the boats and planes and things.’
Mum put her fork down. It clinked loudly against her plate. ‘Amanda,’ she said. She never called me by my full name unless I was in trouble, but I kept talking anyway.
‘It’s exciting,’ I said, picking up a crouton with my fingers and biting it in half. ‘I’ve never been single during application season before. There was always Chloe or Mark or Jac or whoever. I might never get another chance to have an experience like this. Great croutons, Mum.’
‘Amanda! Stop!’
I stopped.
‘Firstly, don’t think you can distract me by complimenting my cooking,’ Mum said. ‘Secondly,thinkabout this before you do something stupid.’
‘I have thought about it,’ I said, leaving out thefor about six secondspart. ‘And I want to do it.’
‘Why?’
‘I told you. It’ll be an adventure.’
‘Don’t lie to me, Mandie.’
‘I’m not!’
‘Then don’t lie to yourself,’ Mum said. ‘You want to make Jac jealous.’
‘That’s not it,’ I said. ‘I swear.’
‘That never crossed your mind?’ she said. ‘The thought of her watching a handsome man fall in love with you and realising she made a horrible mistake?’
‘Of course it crossed my mind,’ I said. I’d never been a good liar, and there was no point even trying with someone who knew me as well as Mum did. ‘It’s notwhy, though.’
‘Because she didn’t make a horrible mistake,’ Mum said. ‘Her breaking up with you was the nicest thing she ever did for you.’
‘This isn’t about Jac,’ I insisted. ‘It’s about me. Moving on.’
‘With some fantasy man? Mandie, come on.’
I stabbed at the half-crouton on my plate with my fork and said nothing.
