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“First of all, I guarantee Luke’s not on there. He’s back together with his wife, right?”

“Thanks for reminding me.”

“And secondly, if he did happen to go on there and see you, well, then he would be looking on there too, so what’s the big deal?”

“I’d rather die.”

“There’s the drama I never get enough of,” my sister joked.

We continued sipping our coffees, and then my sister proceeded to tell me about a new guy in her life. Actually, he wasn’t really new, he was Tim McMillon, a guy we’d gone to high school with, who now lived in Texas. Tim apparently found Laura on
Facebook
and contacted her.

“Do you remember him?” she asked me.

“Vaguely. I think he was a nice guy.”

Laura told me Tim was divorced with two kids, he was a financial advisor for Merrill Lynch, and the best part, he was coming here to visit her.

“I’m so happy for you!” I exclaimed. I really was. My sister had been so down about Dan.

“I’m not so sure there are that many good guys out there,” she had said to me a few days earlier.

I had asked, “What about Luke?”

Laura’s response was to make some snide comment about Tootsie Pops. I left it alone because I knew how she felt, and there was nothing I could say to change her mind. Some great guy had to come into her life to change her attitude about the availability of quality men in the world. And maybe that guy was Tim. I hoped.

Don’t even ask how I had such a positive attitude about the opposite sex. My recent dating history painted a bleak picture, especially when it came to Luke, the man who I sometimes felt like I was in an imaginary relationship with. The amount of time I spent dreaming of him and lamenting over him and wondering how his marriage was going was unnatural, given the actual amount of time I’d spent with him in reality. I mean, how well did I really know him? Not well. Still, something kept me clinging to hope that Luke and I might someday be something.

“So, where’s Tim staying?” I asked Laura.

“The Sheraton.”

“Well, that’s a good sign,” I joked, “Should I book you a couple’s massage?”

Laura laughed and then the two of us literally planned her outfits for the entire weekend. We chose her clothes and accessories and shoes in our heads, knowing full well she was going to have to model everything before any decisions were final.

Just as we were about to leave, I heard a cell phone ring, and I was confused for a second, until I realized it was my phone, and that once again, my sister had secretly changed the ring tone. I let out a huge laugh. She had changed it to some salsa tune, and I felt like I was in a Mexican restaurant.

“It’s so appropriate for your business,” she joked.

I looked at the number and didn’t recognize it. “Hello?” I answered.

“Hi, is this Emma?” said some guy on the other end of the phone.

“Yes, it is.”

“Hi, it’s Tony Strong. I met you at Henry Horowitz’s party.”

“Oh, hi!” I remembered Tony immediately. He was the widower who had really made an impression on me. He had seemed smart, honest, practical, and rational. I wondered why on earth he was calling me after all this time.

“How are you?” he asked.

“I’m fine. How are things with you?”

“Great,” he began, “Thanks for introducing me to Georgia. We’re still dating.”

“Really?” I asked. I looked at Laura. She was mouthing, “Who is it?”

I didn’t want to tell her it was Tony, the guy whose date was Dan’s ex-wife, who had to leave the party because she couldn’t stand the sight of Dan. So instead, I held up my index finger and said, “Tony, can I call you back? I can’t really talk right now.”

“Actually, do you have just a minute? I’m calling because I have this friend. His name’s Matt. I think you two may hit it off. Can I give him your number?”

“You want to set me up on a blind date?”

“Yes! Yes!” Laura whispered, “Do it!”

“Um, can you tell me about him?”

“I think you should just go out with him,” Tony said, “Trust me.”

For some odd reason, with absolutely no knowledge about Matt, I agreed to let Tony give him my number. The guy texted me the next day, and two days after that we went out. His last name was Bricker also, and we spent the first thirty minutes of our dinner date trying to figure out if we were related because if we didn’t have that to talk about, we would have been majorly struggling for conversation. Boy, Tony was a great guy, but his matchmaking skills left something to be desired. He couldn’t have been more off in setting the two of us up. At the end of the night, both Matt Bricker and I were very sure there was no connection.

I even pulled out Den0507’s picture and asked him if he recognized the guy because I knew he wouldn’t be offended. I wasn’t into Matt Bricker and he wasn’t into me. Ironically, he was the first person to actually ask me why I was looking for Den. I told him it was for a friend. Matt smiled and I knew he knew I was lying. I also knew he didn’t care.

We said our good-byes and went our separate ways, and I was sure I would never hear from him again. I didn’t leave with a bad feeling, however. Even though my date and I didn’t have a connection, I had met a guy who seemed nice and decent. More importantly, though, I was officially becoming open minded when it came to dating. It was both good and sad. I was happy to be moving on, but a big part of me was still struggling with that old familiar widow’s guilt that seemed to tug at my heart every time I was with someone of the opposite sex or having the least bit of fun. It was much less pronounced now, though.

A couple days later, I received a surprising voice mail. “Hi, Emma, this is Matt Bricker from the other night. Look, I’m going to be perfectly honest with you. I didn’t really feel like we hit it off.”

“Really?” I said to myself with sarcasm, as I prepared my third batch of
Hotter than Bradley Cooper
salsa of the day.

“So anyhow, I know this sounds really weird,” he went on, “but I’d like to set you up with my friend. His name is also Matt. Call me back or send me a text and let me know if you’d be willing to meet him. He’s really a great guy. I think you two would like each other.” Matt Bricker left his number and said good-bye.

“There’s no way, right?” I asked my sister, who was standing in the kitchen in slinky black top number five, one of the options she was modeling for her upcoming weekend with Tim McMillon.

“That’s the one, by the way,” I exclaimed, motioning to her halter top.

“Are you sure?” she asked, “I feel like my boobs look too saggy.”

My poor sis, so critical of her physical appearance, when in reality, she should have been beaming with pride at how beautiful she was. I gazed at her without speaking.

“What?” she asked, “Saggy, right?”

I took her shoulders, pulled her toward me, and looked right into her eyes. “Listen to me, Laura. You are beautiful. You’re not just smart, and a good doctor, and a good mother. You have a beautiful body and a beautiful face. Do you understand that?”

Her eyes quickly filling with tears, she said, “Alan obviously doesn’t think so. Neither does Dan.”

“Fuck Alan and fuck Dan!” I shouted.

“Mommy said a swear word,” Izzie sang.

I whipped my head around and saw my daughter standing in the doorway. “Sorry, honey. I was just trying to make Aunt Laura feel better,” I said.

“Someday you’ll understand,” Laura said, kissing Isabelle’s cheek.

“That’s a really nice shirt, Aunt Laura.”

“See?” I said.

.

Chapter 28

T
he next night, I went out with Matt number two, who turned out to be perhaps the biggest jerk I’d met in all my life, almost to the point where it was humorous. Matt was 42, divorced with a ten year-old, a six year-old and a baby. We never actually got into why he got divorced, which I was sure was a nightmare in and of itself, but when I asked him if he had dated much since, his response was, “Actually, I’m dating two women right now.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Yeah, do you have a problem with that?”

“Um…no… I guess I’m just surprised.”

“Why?”

“Well, why are you getting fixed up on blind dates if you have two girlfriends?”

He answered, “One of the women I’m seeing is still married, so I don’t think she’s ready for anything serious. As far as the other one, well…” He began to chuckle in this very creepy kind of way and then continued, “…she’s just a friend with benefits.”

“What?”

“You know, just sex.”

I must have had a really weird look on my face, because he added, “What’s wrong? You seem surprised.”

“Actually, I’m just surprised you would share that with me.”

“Are you judging me? Are you telling me you’ve never had a friend with benefits?”

“Is that the point?” I asked. I stood up and finished, “Honestly, I think I might go.”

“You
might
go or you
are going?
”

“I
am going,
” I said very loud and clear. Then I walked off, thanking God that I had taken my own car.

On my way out the door I pulled out Den’s photo and asked the hostess if she recognized him. “Sorry, honey,” she answered, “If that hottie had come in here, I’d have remembered him.”

“Thanks,” I smiled. Then I began to giggle and I laughed the whole way home. I wasn’t angry. I wasn’t even angry at Matt or the other Matt. Being upset wasn’t worth my energy. I would look back on this as part of the whole dating experience that I was now going through as a middle-aged woman. And I found it very entertaining.

The very next day, I was at Trader Joe’s and ran into a guy who I’d met years earlier, the very good-looking younger brother of a girl I went to college with. He told me he just moved to the area and confessed that since he was new in town and recently divorced, he didn’t have many friends to go out with. So, when he asked me out, I said yes, even though I remembered him as being extremely arrogant, to the point where he came across like he thought he was God’s gift. Guess what his name was, by the way. Matt.

Matt was a personal trainer in his late-thirties, and even though he truly was very much in love with himself, I didn’t care. I was on a roll, so why stop now? I figured if I kept going on dates, eventually one of them would cause me to forget about Preston and Luke and Den0507, if in fact I never found him.

Matt and I ended up having a pretty fun date at a Spanish Tapas restaurant in the area. We drank lots of sangria, and although Matt surpassed his reputation (that came from all the women I knew who knew him) as being one of the most self-loving men in America, he had lots of redeeming qualities, such as a well developed (borderline fanatical) knowledge of body conditioning. It was interesting to hear his stories about some of the clients he trained.

I found being with him so entertaining that after dinner I suggested we go back to my place for a glass of wine. Matt happily accepted.

With Isabelle and Laura fast asleep upstairs, I spent the next half hour on my couch kissing my date. Matt was a pretty good kisser. The problem was I had to keep moving his strong trainer hands off of my buttons and zippers. Matt wasn’t really getting the point that kissing was all I wanted to do.

Finally he whispered, “Don’t you want me, Emma?”

“Um…”

Matt pulled away and looked at me in disbelief. “You’re not sure?”

“Well, I’m just not ready for the whole physical thing, especially with my sister and daughter upstairs. I’m sure you can understand that, right?”

“They’re heavy sleepers, aren’t they?” he asked with a chuckle.

“I don’t think I want to risk it,” I answered, really wanting to say, “How would you know since you don’t have kids?” and “You’re hot, but I’m not dying to sleep with you right this second.”

“Wow,” he replied, “I’m shocked by your will power.”

This comment left me speechless.

“This sucks,” he continued, “I mean, I thought for sure we’d be having sex tonight.”

I think at this moment I gasped.

“Don’t act so shocked. I can tell you want it.”

“Want what?”

“This,” he said, putting his hand on his “package.”

At this moment, I let out a nervous laugh and then had to put my hand over my mouth. I stood up, walked to the back door and opened it.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m showing you out. I’m not in the mood to be date raped right now. Can you please leave?”

Matt walked out, wine glass in hand and scowl on his face. When I shut the door and locked it, I found myself shaking. The date rape comment was semi-valid, and I realized I had put myself in a very defenseless, precarious position, where it could have happened. I was thankful that Matt didn’t assault me, and I realized no matter how old a person got, the realities of dating stayed the same, and that I had to be careful.

At this moment, I wanted to call Luke and ask him to come over and rescue me from all the creeps named Matt I’d gone out with lately. Luke would never hurt me, in fact he would protect me and take care of me. He made me feel safer than anyone I’d ever known. He was my rock, my go-to guy, my big brother and my friend. But he was also the guy who was probably going to be a monogamous married man again. At this moment, I wondered if I’d be going out with Matts until I was 80.