Page 43 of Merry Little Midlife Matchmaker

“Like I just punched you in the gut.”

“Oh, stop it.”

“Lizzie, if you’re into him, you have to stop setting him up with other women. I’m telling you, he would be receptive to your advances.”

I waved a hand. “Easy for you to say.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

I waved both hands in her direction, gave her a significant look, then waved both hands at myself. “Need I say more?”

“If you’re insinuating that you’re less desirable than I am, you need to get your head checked.”

“I’m a single mom of two kids who can barely keep up with the laundry, let alone the thousand and one other tasks I need to do. I’m not exactly the type of lady men are beating down the door to date.”

“You don’t need men in general to beat down your door,” Laurel responded sagely. “You needoneman to beat down your door.”

And he had, two days in a row.

“You’re wrong.” My voice was emphatic. “I don’t need a man. Been there, done that, got the T-shirt.”

“When was the last time you went out with a guy?”

“Like, on a date?”

Laurel huffed and gave me an exasperated smile. “Yes! On a date.”

I gulped. “Isaac, probably. And we stopped doing date nights when Hazel was born. So…”

“Over eight years.”

“Right.” That was nothing to be embarrassed about, and I didn’t know why my cheeks had begun to burn. I had a rich, full life and I hadn’t missed dragging a man around like an anchor on a chain behind me. After the divorce, I discovered that my house was easier to keep clean when I didn’t have a third person to pick up after. I could manage the kids’ activities and appointments by myself, because I wasn’t constantly worried that Isaac would forget or be late or drop the ball. I did it. I managed everything, and my life got easier. My kids thrived. Everything worked out.

“I don’t need a man,” I repeated.

“Sure,” Laurel conceded. “No oneneedsa man. But aren’t they fun sometimes?”

“Not the ones I’ve met.”

Laurel threw her hands up and dipped her chin, relenting. “Fine. Forget I said anything. Sean’s a great guy and I had a good dinner. Let’s leave it at that.”

“Thank you for the coffee,” I said, relieved. She gave me one last smile, then wandered to her desk. I drank my coffee and told myself she was delusional.

If Sean Hardy were interested in me, I would know. Besides, he wouldn’t have agreed to go out with Astrid; he would’ve made a move on me.

Right?

TWENTY

SEAN

I scheduledmy date with Astrid at the Four Cups Café on Saturday around noon. Mikey was at Aaron’s house, and I liked the idea of having an out in case the date went sideways. I trusted Lizzie’s taste, but my heart wasn’t exactly in it. I figured I could go on this date and go through the motions, and if nothing came of it, drop the whole endeavor.

Astrid blew through the door wearing a bright orange pea coat over a low-cut brown dress, with her hair bouncing in ringlets around her face. Her gaze cut to mine immediately, and an interested sparkle lit her eyes. She’d told me she’d be wearing orange when we’d set up the date, so I knew it was her.

“Hello, stranger,” she said.

I wasn’t sure if she was trying to be funny or seductive, so I settled on an easy smile and thanked my past self for scheduling this date at a coffee shop. Easy to escape. “You must be Astrid.” I stood and shook her hand. Her grip was a little limp, and she batted her eyelashes at me like she had a piece of dust stuck under her eyelid.

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