I pull out my credit card, but she holds up a hand. “The guys have already chipped in. Everyone paid ten bucks.”
“They don’t need to do that.”
“Their moms insisted. It’s fine. Now tell me more about this date you got asked on.”
I wave a hand around in the air. “I don’t know if I’ll go.”
Violet crosses her arms and props her hip against the counter. “Why not?”
“The timing isn’t right.”
She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. She must have gotten sick of the contacts at some point today. “I’m almost sixteen, mom. College is just around the corner. I know my plan is to stay local and save on things like rent and unnecessary expenses, and that buys you another three or four years of me living with you, but it would still be good if you started dating.”
“So should you,” I point out.
“Deflector deflecting.” She thumbs over her shoulder, dropping her voice. “Teen boys are more awkward than baby goats and not nearly as cute. I’m in no rush to deal with that nonsense. Besides, thanks to all your pro-self-exploration talks, I have a feeling I’m much better equipped to deal with my own needs than high school boys.”
“Amen to that.” I raise my hand and Violet slaps it.
“You’ve dedicated the past decade and a half to making sure I’m a well-rounded young woman. I’m a freaking Mathlete. It’ssafe to jump back into the dating pool. Unless this guy is creepy. Then take a pass.”
“He’s not creepy.” I fiddle with the charm on my necklace. Violet made it in art class in middle school and I wear it every day. “We can talk about this later. Go hang out with your friends.”
“Fine. I’ll leave it for now. But we’re coming back to this. You’re not even forty and I’ve overheard those guys calling you a MILF more than once.” She nods toward the living room.
I make a face. “I did not need to know that.”
She kisses me on the cheek. “I’m sorry you can’t unknow it, but it’s a compliment.” She grabs a bag of chips, a bowl, and five sodas before she disappears down the hall to the TV room.
Being a single parent means I have a unique relationship with Violet. We’re close, and I don’t have many of the issues my colleagues seem to have with their teens.
Sure, she gets cranky when it’s shark week, and then complains about the double stomach cramps when she inevitably gives into the craving for a milkshake and compounds her period pains with the moops. We have dairy intolerance in common. But mostly we have a great relationship. She’s easygoing and studious. She has nice friends. She doesn’t get into trouble.
Maybe she’s right. Maybe I should start dating. It’s not that I haven’t gone out with anyone in the past fifteen years, because I have. But I’ve been very careful not to mess with what Violet and I have. I would rather be alone than in a relationship with someone who creates tension between me and my daughter. But if the right person came along…well, that would change everything.
* * * *
“You should wear a V-neck instead.” Violet rolls off my bed, lands on her ass on the floor with an oof, picks herself off and limp-hops to my closet. “Show off the girls.”
“Are we too open with each other?” I run my hands over my hips. I’m wearing black dress pants and a royal blue blouse.
She reappears with a stack of tops. “That depends on who you ask. I also think the more important question is whether it would be better for me to be completely in the dark about how the female body works. Half the girls in my classes are relying on the internet for their information. Which is not the most reliable source. You’re my only parent. I’m your only daughter. We’re tight. You have rules and I follow most of them most of the time. I’m not an angry teenager who wears all black and acts like spending time with you is akin to going to a funeral. We have fun together. I think it’s cool that I get to help you pick out a date appropriate outfit.”
“It’s just coffee, and I’m still undecided whether I’m going.”
“I still can’t believe he didn’t get your number or give you his.” She holds out an embellished top better suited for a night out on the town. “Pair this with a blazer and you’re good to go.”
If there’s one thing Violet is good at, apart from math and spontaneously tripping over air—she gets those two from me—it’s putting together outfits.
“And if you were undecided, you wouldn’t be putting in this kind of effort.”
“Maybe he won’t show.” I try on the blouse and pull the black blazer over it. She’s right. It looks great. But the cleavage is a little much. I add a nude tank with lace trim so the girls aren’t the central focus.
“He’ll show. He’d be a fool not to.” She flops back down on my bed. “This time you need to get a last name, his phone number, and a link to one of his social media accounts. That waywe can do some research before date two,ifyou decide you want to see him again.”
“Got it, get his last name, phone number and a link to social media.”
“Don’t get into a car with him.”