Page 8 of Texting My Valentine

“I would’ve said ‘fuck at first sight.’”

When Lily cringes, Cleo laughs again. I want to join the banter, but the vibrating phone and Mom’s name distract me.

“Are you going to get that?” Lily asks.

“I’d rather walk over hot coals, to be honest. But she’s my mom, as annoying as that is. I’ll take it outside.”

I leave by the rear exit, nodding to the chef and one of the busboys before slipping into the alleyway. The Miami night iswarm for February, and the air feels stifling. Or maybe that’s just the prospect of the phone call.

“Tori?” Mom says. “I didn’t think you were going to answer.”

Surprise, surprise, she sounds drunk. Yet, I’m at a bar. But who am I to judge? She’s gone through a rough breakup. Just because it’s her second of the year, it doesn’t make it any easier.

Come on, Tori. Be a good daughter.

“Are you okay, Mom?”

“I was devastated.”

“Was?” I ask hesitantly.

“But I’ve reinstalled Tinder, and now things are looking better.”

Is she serious?

“Oh.” It’s all I can say.

“I’ve matched with a man. Very polite, very charming. He’s a stockbroker, and he wants to meet tomorrow. Can you believe that?” She says, full of enthusiasm. Gone is the sullen, crying woman from not even a half hour ago.

“I’m not sure rushing into a relationship is the best idea.”

“Don’t be so pessimistic,” she snaps. “True love is out there. It’s just waiting for me to seize it. You, of all people, should know that.”

“Why? Because I’ve sworn to do my best to avoid romance for my entire freaking life?” I say sarcastically. “Is that why I should be an expert?”

“Relax, Tori. Jeez. I just meant because of where you are this evening.”

I feel like a jerk. “I hope it works out.”

“You do?” She sounds surprised.

“I always hope it works out, Mom.”

It just never does. I don’t add that part, though.

“Thank you. I know we had a little thing earlier. Can we put it behind us, please?”

“Just don’t rush into making moving plans with this one. And maybe check if he’s married.” She doesn’t reply, so I say, “I love you, Mom.” Sure, that statement probably has some guilt in it, but I mean it.

“I love you. Thanks for always supporting me.”

I return to the bar. Lily is texting with a grin on her face, which means she’s texting Clive, her fiancé, ‘one of the good ones,’ as I call him. Maybe he’s theonlygood one. Pre-vetted through my friend’s approval.

“Finally. I was about to send out a search party. They would’ve turned out to be stripper-grams, but still,” Cleo says with a grin.

“Do you have to be so seedy all the time?” I sigh.

“No, but it’s Valentine’s. Cut me some slack.” She finishes her drink.

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