Page 10 of The Girlfriend Game
Four
Kendall
“Don’t be mad at me,” my twin sister, Kerry, says with an innocent smile across her identical face. “But I signed you up for a dating site.”
I’ve barely sat down across the restaurant table from her when she shoves her phone in my face and shocks me with this unexpected announcement. Kerry is prone to do that and has on many occasions since childhood.
I sputter out my response, my voice careening ten octaves higher than normal. “You didwhat?”
She gives me an exaggerated eye roll, a specialty of hers. As if I’m the crazy one and she’s perfectly sane. Although we share the same genetic makeup and DNA, we couldn’t be more wildly different from one another, the only identical attributes being our physical appearance.
While I was getting my education and earning my PhD, Kerry married her high school sweetheart and started a family. She’s now the mother of three, her oldest is twelve and youngest is five. She loves being a mom to her kids. And second to that, loves to meddle in my love life.
Kerry cocks her head to the side, propping her chin in her palm and smiles angelically at me. No wonder she chose a public place. She knew if there were witnesses around, it would keep me from strangling her.
Joke’s on her. I reach over the table and wrap my hands around her slim throat, acting out the thrill of choking my sister. She pulls out of my grip and laughs.
“You know Mom and Dad’s fortieth anniversary is coming up this summer,” she asserts, as if I have no earthly knowledge of this event. “The only thing they want is to see you happy and settled down with your forever man. Which means your only course of action is to begin looking for that boyfriend, likeyesterday.”
I close my eyes, willing myself not to scream out in frustration, counting to ten to soothe my irritation. When I open them again, my patience has been restored, at least somewhat. But my voice remains taut and strained, the words ripping free from my throat like a pulled bungee cord snapping loose.
“Kerry,” I warn. “My happiness is not contingent on a man. You know this. On top of which, I also am not beholden to a boyfriend or a husband if I wish to start a family.” Leaning over the table, I cup the side of my mouth in a sarcastic whisper. “There are these things called sperm banks. They come in very handy. Oh, and there’s also this lovely method called adoption. So many options for single, spinster but happy women like me.”
I shift back in my chair and slowly unravel my scarf from around my neck, steam practically rising from my body.
Kerry reaches across the table and grabs my hand, patting my knuckles with her palm. “Kenny, do you really want to go that route? I mean, honestly, honey. It’s so”--she flicks a hand in the air—“sterile and clinical.”
“Practical,” I argue.
I yank my hand from her grip and gesture with my hands out to the side. “Look who you’re talking to. I’m the queen of clinical. Maybe the process of having a child in that manner seems untraditional and revolutionary to you and our mother, but I’m happy with my choices. And seriously, the chance of finding a man on a dating app who is down with having a family with me is slim to none.”
She harrumphs, her way of acknowledging my point, but not agreeing with it. We may be identical twins, but that doesn’t mean we share the same opinions or views.
I love Kerry dearly. She’s my best friend and closest confidant in the world, but the one area in which we clearly diverge is in our viewpoints on family. She rejects the idea that I could possibly be happy remaining single all my life.
Truthfully, of course I want to find love. But I’ve pushed that need away for so long now, I’m practically immune to the idea of dating. I’ve been doing just fine this far. Why fix what ain’t broke?
In fact, dating sounds like exhausting work. I expend enough energy in my day job. It’s physically and emotionally demanding, even on the best days. I’m not sure I’d have enough energy in my reserves to handle a relationship well at all.
Now that I’ve reached the pinnacle of my career and published my book, I’ve made room in my life to accomplish my next goal, the one desire I’ve put on the back burner for years—motherhood. To have a child of my own. I’m nearing my thirty-fifth birthday and I’m ready to start that next chapter in my life.
With or without a man.
But my lovely and adamant sister is tenacious and never gives up.
“Kendall, please. Just give this dating app two weeks. I think you’ll find it worth your time. Plus, I’ve already done all the hard work for you. I’ve set up your account, had it verified, and created your profile.” She grins as if expecting a standing ovation or an award for her troubles.
“What?” I snatch the phone out of her hand and stare down at the screen, fear slamming into my heart that she used my photo for the profile picture. Not that I’d know from personal experience, but I’ve heard from my clients who have been on these things and there is no way in hell I want any of my clients to accidentally run across my profile. “You can’t do that, Kerry. This could ruin my reputation as a professional. Goddamn you.”
She scoffs, her face downcast as if I’ve hurt her. “Duh…I know that, Kenny. That’s why I set you up on this elite dating app. It’s called Heart and Soul and it was created specifically for professionals like you who don’t need their real identity splashed over the internet.”
I barely listen as she continues to blather on about the site’s security features and how it protects the identities of its users. Instead, I zone out, worrying over the possibility someone will find out it’s me.
“And the good news is you’ve already matched with two potential men. Isn’t that great?”
My attention flies back to my sister, my eyes widening with incredulity.
“Oh, my God. You are the most intrusive and annoying sister ever,” I complain, slumping down in my chair, dropping my face to my chest. “I can’t believe you did that.”
