Page 86 of Pity Parade

She changes the subject. “How are things going for you?”

“I think I’ve finally found a woman I want to see for the long haul.”

“Are you serious?” She sounds like I’ve just told her that I want to become a tightrope walker in the circus.

“Her name is Trina Rockwell.”

“The woman from the auction?” I’m surprised she remembers.

“Yeah.”

“You talked about her so much after your date, I thought you were going to break your rule for her back then.”

“I had some things to work out first.”

“Jess,” she says knowingly.

“Yeah. Jess. Shel, Allan is still alive, and you have two beautiful children. Promise me you’ll do everything you can to keep your family intact.”

She inhales deeply before saying, “I promise. And Heath, thank you. Thank you for pushing me to come here. Thank you for pulling out of the skyscraper project. Just thank you for being you.”

“We’ve had a good partnership, Shel. I promise we’ll always be great friends.”

“I’m off to put on a nice dress and some war paint,” she tells me. “Then I’m going to go find my husband.”

After she hangs up, I realize that Trina and I don’t have the history that Shel and Allan do, but darn if I don’t want us to get there some day.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

TRINA

I couldn’t stay out at the lake with Heath right next door. I can’t look him in the eye knowing what a lowdown nasty thing he did to me. He is not the man I thought he was. And if that’s not bad enough, I’ve also discovered what a weirdo Nick is. As frustrating as it is, I have to come to terms with the fact that I have no prospects.

I consider calling Tom and leaving him a message that I’m on board for his stupid show. But then I realize he doesn’t know any differently. He didn’t know I was going to spend my summer looking for romance so I could get out of his attempt to set me up.

My mind is moving a million miles an hour. What I really need to do is go back and sleep on the dock, but there’s no way I can do that. After opening all the windows in the apartment to simulate an outdoor feel, I crawl into bed with a book. The only one I brought with me is some romance novel about a pirate and a highborn lady, so I crack the cover and seek escape. After reading for an hour, my takeaway is that I wouldn’t mind being abducted by a roguishly handsome buccaneer.

I go to bed early, but I can’t clear my head enough to fall into a deep sleep. Instead, I relive every single season of Midwestern Matchmaker. I think about a couple from the first season who appeared to be arch enemies for the first few encounters and then she told him all about her Bernese Mountain Dog’s cancer treatments and he turned into a pile of mush. They got married and adopted six special-needs animals. As far as I know they’ve never had children.

Then there was the couple from the third season who bonded over a shared love of palindromes. He called her “taco cat” and she called him “racecar.” They also got married, and in perfect word nerd form, the wedding was at noon on a kayak.

A couple from the fifth season was the only one to have had children so far. After getting hitched, they got pregnant, and she gave birth to quadruplets. This led to them getting their own reality show called The Quad Squad. As far as I can tell, they do little more than feed babies, change diapers, and try to get them to sleep. The whole thing looks horribly exhausting.

I developed something of a crush on a man from the sixth season. He was a pilot and a blackbelt in karate, but he also loved to bowl. Unfortunately, I couldn’t date him because that’s one of the rules of the show. Had he not matched with someone, I would have been allowed to contact him after taping, but he found his future wife in the form of a retired Olympic gymnast. There’s no competing with that.

Somewhere along the line I start dreaming of the show I’m slated to star in. Tony Trench runs around trying to kick Bobby Smalls and Jeremy Flinch in their man business. Bobby, in true bookie form, hires a hit on Tony, and Jeremy makes everyone soup. I feel so horrible when I wake up, I have a renewed determination to avoid being the star of Tom’s vendetta against me. Which is how I’ve come to think of his new venture. Had I allowed him to shred Paige and Tim’s reputations in the last season of Midwestern Matchmaker, we probably would have gotten renewed, and Tom would still like me.

I don’t bother getting out of bed before calling Paige. “I’m up for doing the singles’ dating thing on the Fourth.”

“Yay! What changed your mind?”

“Everyone deserves to find love. Even if it only happens for one couple.” I make a silent plea, please let me be half of that couple.

“Let’s meet for lunch today and start making plans. How about the diner at noon?”

“I’ll see you there,” I tell her. Then I get out of bed and make my way to the shower. By the time I’m ready to leave the apartment, I’m once again feeling marginally optimistic. Meeting someone at a singles’ event might be a pipe dream, but anything is better than accepting defeat.

Paige is already sitting at a booth by the window. As soon as I arrive at our table, she opens a notebook and announces, “Elk Lake has a killer Fourth of July parade every year.” She doesn’t pause long enough for me to respond. She just keeps talking. “There are floats galore and all the school bands play. The Girl Scouts and Boy Scouts do a whole thing, veterans from every war since Vietnam march, and the Kiwanis drive around in those funny little clown cars. Oh, and Jimmy McCan dresses up as Uncle Sam and hands out boxes of Uncle Sam’s rice. That’s sponsored by the market in town.”

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