Page 1 of Under the Influence

EDITH MOONEY, AKA HUNTING FOR A HUBBY

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Am I a dud? Have I passed my expiration date as a suitable wife? In high school, boys drooled at my feet, begging for attention. Most of them had hit up my younger cousin, Tuesday, before realizing she was a hurricane in the body of a hot blonde. They also wasted time trying to woo my older cousin, Henrietta, who was too lazy to match their interest. Eventually, they realized I was the sensible choice, yet I’ve rarely had boyfriends.

I’ve never found dating to be an exciting activity. Most guys repulse me. They lack charm and good manners. I never bought into the idea of their youth meaning they didn’t know better. My father and brothers are bikers. They throw punches and get rowdy with their bros, but they still know how to be respectful. That’s how they won their women’s hearts.Why should I settle for a loudmouthed jackass?

As pushy as my male peers can be, I still want to find a man to call my own. During my early twenties, I was always on the lookout for Mister Right, yet I refused to be less than picky about something that meant so much to me.

After all, I have a very specific desire to experience the chemistry my parents share. My ma and I are a lot alike. When she gets flustered, no one soothes her like my pa.

I wanted that beautiful chemistry. Nothing less. No settling.

By my twenty-third birthday, though, I’d started to feel the pinch. Why couldn’t I find my man? I started going online to locate men around West Virginia. I’d even met with several possible matches from other states. Yet, once we met, I felt none of the wild chemistry my family members experienced with their dream people.

Over the years, I’ve watched my cousins and older brother Otto find love. I tried not to feel jealous. I was happy for them.

Well, until Tuesday turned a ridiculous love affair with a sloppy biker from another club into the meet-cute with her dream guy. Tuesday loved the drama of sexy flings. She wasn’t searching for anyone to love, yet she found Bullet Train and his teen daughter, Roxie. After several days together, they became a family.Meanwhile, I was twenty-six and still alone.

My heart felt heavy after my brother Ike found his dream girl. I’d been sure he was making a mistake with Oana. She was the daughter of local cult members. What did Ike and Oana have in common? Nothing, but they shared an unbreakable chemistry.

Oana is great. She’s the little sister I never knew I needed. She’s got a rocker vibe with feathered hair and blue eyeshadow. I don’t want to begrudge my brother’s good luck. He’s found the girl of his dreams, she’s already pregnant, and they’re designing a prefab home to add to our family’s twenty-acre homestead.

I long for what Ike found with Oana and our older brother Otto has with his rockabilly cool wife Betty.

Their happiness has led to my growing panic over not finding my dream guy. I’ve joined every dating site and engaged with losers from all over the fricking state. Accountants, lawyers, and bank managers on the respectable end. There were also ex-cons and unemployed dorks living in their ma’s basements. I even dated an artsy queef who counted his van as his home and business.

Despite lowering my standards and widening my dating network, I remain alone.

“Hey, stinky breath,” Tuesday says, finding me pouting on the back deck of my parents’ four-bedroom house on the homestead where most of our extended family lives.

My cousin Tuesday has always drawn attention to herself. She’s blessed with shiny blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Her freckled nose is usually scrunched from laughing at others. She’s always done whatever the hell she wanted, and it’s worked for her. If she weren’t my best friend, I’d absolutely hate her.

“I have a thought.”

“No,” I reply, knowing her idea will be stupid and meant to embarrass me.

“With Val taking over the Blood-Red Suns, we’ll be at Basin Rock often.”

“No,” I answer, already depressed about my younger cousin Val having met his dream girl.

“That club is full of unattached men.”

“Big dumb men like your ex, Cubby.”

Tuesday strokes my light brown hair down my back. Her affection feels like a con, but that’s just my jealousy talking. Tuesday and I fight a lot. I love shoving her face in the mud. She enjoys making me eat grass. I call her a whore. She calls me frigid. Fussing and feuding are how we bond.

Right now, she bumps my shoulder and says, “I thought you were desperate.”

“I want a husband, not a dumb redneck to hump me and ask for a sandwich afterward.”

“Some of those guys are decent looking. You could use them to make a baby if marriage isn’t in the cards.”

Tears bite my eyes, forcing me to hide my face against my knees. I can’t believe I’ll truly need to settle.

I’ve done everything right! I saved my money with the same zeal as my virginity. I rarely drink or get stoned. I’m the good girl! If my fate is to be a single mom to a redneck’s bastard kid, I could have done that shit years ago!Instead, I waited for love.

“I don’t know what you want,” Tuesday says, still stroking my back.

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