Page 32 of Rule 2: Never Join a Christmas Dating Show
“Seeking Mr. Right is all about someone having many options, but finding the person who isn’t just pretty, isn’t just qualified on paper, but someone who makes you declare all sorts of sappy things about in front of the world. I think that’s nice.”
He blinks.
“It’s sweet.” I grin, thinking about the final floral crown ceremonies I’ve seen over the years. I think about the speeches the various Mr. Rights have given. They met different women, under circumstances most people would consider stressful, but at the end, they always find love.
It’s one of the things I like about the show. I like that there’s always a happily ever after in sight.
“I want to be so captivated by someone that I bare my soul to the nation,” I say.
“What are your first impressions of the women?” Sebastian asks.
I frown. “They were all pretty.”
His smile tightens.
“And all...nice. I had a good time with them.”
“Did anyone in particular draw your eye?”
“I’m not going to bare my soul to the country before the second date,” I say, and he smiles. “I think they’re all equally appealing.”
None of them have been in my minds, and I’m grateful he doesn’t ask for names. I frown, wondering if I should have spent the day randomly thinking about them. Is that what people do?
I try to imagine if I can spend the rest of my life with one of them. I try to envision coming home and having Flora or Willow or Dahlia wrap their arms around me. I try to imagine turning to one of them at night, sharing secrets and doing night-time activities.
The idea sends a chill through me, but the sound of wind beating against the windows can’t have been caused by that thought. My gaze drifts toward the windows, covered by curtains.
“The storm is picking up,” Sebastian says.
“Yeah. New Hampshire in winter.”
“Let’s continue,” he says.
I inhale, then nod to let him know to proceed.
“What are you looking for in a partner?”
My fingers tap against the armchair rests automatically, then I remember to slide them back. It looks better if my palms are exposed, so I look more kind man rather than brutal hockey player. I carved my muscles to do well at my job, not to scare.
“I would like someone who’s gone through things. Who has some edge. I-I appreciate that. I like calm ponds, they’re better to skate on, but I grew up by the ocean.”
“Your family were fishermen.”
“That’s right. If I hadn’t discovered hockey, hadn’t been good at it, for whatever reason, I probably would be out on the ocean right now. Well, hopefully not exactly right now, because there’s a storm, but I would have done that in general.”
Sebastian nods, not minding my ungrammatical sentence too much. I guess he knows what can be easily edited away.
“I think it would be nice if someone understood me. If someone had also been through things.”
He gives me a strange look, and I wonder what he’s thinking. I continue with my train of my thought. It’s not something I’ve given much consideration to before, but now it seems the most important thing in the world.
“Someone resilient who’s made something of themselves. Who knows what it’s like to come from...not much and appreciates everything now. Someone who sees the real me.”
Sebastian looks away from me and at his sheet of questions.
“Tell me about your childhood.”
“Well, as you know, I grew up in Ashcove.”
