Page 17 of The Dating Mishapp

“Maybe if you dressed a little nicer and put on some makeup...”

I look down at my burgundy cardigan and skinny jeans. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“I’m just saying if you…” She sucks her teeth and waves her hand in the air. “Never mind.”

“No, say it!”

“You might meet someone.”

My anger erupts, my words preparing to spew and hurt like hot lava. I lean forward as if I’m going to whisper. “Guess what, Mom…I met someone. Actually, I mettwomen! And I could have sex with either one if I wanted to!”

I imagine both men as lovers. Sex with Tre would be slow and romantic, but I believe Jack would be rough and hard. He’d screw my brains out and be ready to go again.

My mother flinches, but Kylie’s eyes widen with excitement.

“You did?!”

Crap! I didn't mean to blurtthatout. My mother, as much as I love her, has a tendency of getting under my skin.

“I’ll tell you about it later.”Or never!

Our drinks arrive and I finish half the glass in three gulps.

“Maybe it’s not your clothes,” my mother mumbles under her breath.

A chorus of pings sings through the silence at our table set for four.

Within minutes of Kylie checking her phone, her beaming smile transforms into a pout. She sets her phone down, looks at me with sad eyes, and takes a sip of her beverage.

“Everything okay?”

She inhales sharply and blows the breath out. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just a little disappointed. I thought this guy was the one.”

The One?She’s twenty-two! What does she know about meeting the man of her dreams? She needs to travel and experience life before she settles down. I know part of my issue is that I never got to experience those things. I had a six-year-old by the time I was her age.

Kylie shrugs. “It’s all right.”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you I saw Lisa at church this morning,” my mother states.

I sip through my laughter. It still amazes me that Lisa can close the bar at two, go to bed at three and get up for nine o’clock mass.

“She said she saw you at the bar a few nights ago.”

I simply nod, but the mention of the bar reminds me of Jack. I’ll have to find a way to ask about him without being too obvious.

All conversation about the opposite sex is tabled while we eat. My father texts, asking if we could stop by the firehouse with a jar of blue cheese dressing.

I idle my car in front of the grocery store while my mom runs in.

“So…tell me about this guy you met,” Kylie says enthusiastically as she scooches forward, leaning between the two front seats. “Is he cute? When are you seeing him again?”

I chuckle and shrug. “I don’t know.”

“Oh, my God, Mom! This is awesome. You should totally invite him to the fundraiser!”

I grin at her and sigh. “Apparently, he already bought a ticket.”

“That’s awesome. Wait, so is he not cute?”

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