Page 22 of About That Night

“I get that. I find that interesting because I definitely want a man to love me, not just my child. And I want to be in love with him.” It doesn’t feel odd to talk to Hank about relationships. It feels natural. In a way, he knows more about my relationship life, or lack thereof, over everyone but Nevaeh.

“That seems logical to me too. Which was why I ended it. Though I was ready for it to end anyway. She wasn’t the one for me, not long-term.”

“Why did the other relationship end?”

He tilts his head. “Hm. Well, I guess it just ran its course. We both knew it wasn’t serious.”

“Then why were you together?” I find that fascinating. “If you knew it wasn’t going anywhere?”

“You can date just to date. To enjoy someone’s company without a blueprint for where it’s going. Marriage isn’t always the goal.”

That baffles me a little. “You’re just using them as a placeholder?”

“No. Not at all. You’re living in the moment. Enjoying being with someone but knowing it's probably not forever. Or it might be, but you don’t care, and you don’t care that you don’t know. You don’t have to know.”

“I don’t know if I’m wired that way,” I say honestly. “I told you, I’m risk-averse.”

“But how do you know if you’ve never dated? Isn’t that what this is all about? Dating around and figuring out what you want in a partner? It’s not just a checklist, it’s also a feeling.”

The idea makes me tired. “That seems very time consuming.”

“Maybe there’s an app you can go on for people who want to get married.”

I asked him for his advice, and now I don’t like it. I want to have a relationship, but the thought of putting myself out there both terrifies me and exhausts me. “That probably does exist. But what are the odds of finding someone right here?”

“You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

“True.” I stare across the parking lot. I was pleased to see Hank, and now I feel deflated. “Maybe I need baby steps. Maybe you’re right.”

The memory of lying in bed the night before plagues me. I have a horrible feeling that maybe what I want is actually Hank. That’s just not going to happen, and I know that, and I need to stop myself before I even go there. He’s not the settling-down kind. He just said last night he’s too busy for a girlfriend, let alone a single mom who wants the whole shebang. Marriage and more kids immediately.

This is my problem. I want all or nothing.

I can’t have it all, so I have nothing.

No one is getting orgasms with that kind of attitude.

“I think maybe you just need to learn to have some fun,” he says. “You’ve been forced to be goal-oriented, driven. Let’s remind you how to just let go and relax and have a good time.”

Getting orgasms would be a good time.

He’s right, though. “That makes a lot of sense.” I smile at him. “Thank you. You’re always so sweet to me.”

“Sweet?” The corner of his mouth turns up. “Now go on back inside for the rest of your break. Don’t let a man hang around your job too long, or he’ll think he’s in control of the situation. He’s not. You are. You decide how long you want to see him.”

“Oh. Right. Well, I need to head back in,” I say, and I sound like a bad actor in a kids TV show. It feels like there should be a laugh track at the end of my sentence.

“I don’t know your work schedule, but are you busy Thursday? It’s supposed to be a nice day. We could go to the park.”

I just stare at him. He eyes me back.

If I say yes, does that mean I’m overeager? If I say no, am I telling him I’m not interested? Is he being sweet and respectable, inviting me to the park, or did he just friend zone me? In our fake dating, I mean.

No clue what the right response is, I continue to stare at him. “Well. Um.”

“What?” he finally asks.

“Am I supposed to say yes or no to that?” I ask.

---