Page 22 of Mom-Com
Heat flared on my face, especially when the two firefighters started smirking.
“Mom? Did you forget to put gas in the car again?” my oldest evil spawn yelled from Jameson’s car where the windows were rolled down. All three kids had their heads sticking out the windows watching the drama unfold.
“Uh, not sure?” I couldn’t help the way my voice tilted up at the end there, making it obvious I was a twit, not a full-grown woman capable of taking care of the basics with her own damn car. I heard a stifled laugh from the direction of the firefighters. Why was there always an audience to my humiliation?
“Tell your husband we have some gas cans in the station. We’ll get you back on the road, don’t worry.” Mr. Dimples smiled, spun on his heels, and hustled back into the station.
“He’s not my...” I trailed off, realizing it wasn’t even worth protesting. A girl needed to know when she was defeated and I was so there I’d set up house with a house plant and a cat named Merle.
Jameson climbed out of the car and cocked his head, just staring at me.
“What?” I snapped.
His eyes narrowed, but he said, “Nothing.”
The firefighter came back, gas can in hand. He tipped it into my gas tank and filled it up enough to get me to the nearest gas station. He shook Jameson’s hand, in some old-school “took care of the little lady for you” gesture. He simply acknowledged me with a nod and walked away. I guess I shouldn’t have expected a more modern reaction when I myself was trying an old-fashioned way to meet a man. I couldn’t have it both ways.
“I’ll follow you to the gas station to make sure you get there all right.” Jameson held my car door open and waited for me to get in before shutting it and walking back to his vehicle, which held my children.
So that was that.
Defeat smelled an awful lot like a backed-up storm drain and day-old coffee.
No firefighter’s phone number. No date. No flirting.
It was looking more and more like I’d need all fifty ways to land myself a husband. Five down, forty-five to go.
* * *
The Reality of Love, Mom-Com Style - episode #4
Thank you, dear reader, for your enthusiastic opinions on our girl, Betty’s, dating life. I’ve read each and every one of your tweets. As promised, here’s your daily update.
An interesting contender is bubbling up while Betty is searching for Mr. Right. Perhaps he’s Mr. Right Next Door.
It’s the age-old romance situation. Everything you need can be found in the boy/girl next door if you’d only see what was right in front of you. But you know what they say: when the student is ready, the teacher will appear. Until then, let’s follow Betty searching fruitlessly all over town for the one to sweep her off her feet.
And we’ll be sure to keep an eye on the leading man.
Hot Neighbor: 1
Betty: 0
10
Jameson
I’ve given plenty of icy glares to recalcitrant students in my teaching career, but I’ve never been on the receiving end of one quite so glacial as the one Lily-Marie gave me when we finally caravanned home after finding her stranded on the road. Which struck me as extremely odd, considering I’d helped her out of a tough situation. No man or woman wanted to be stranded with car troubles. That’s why we all had car insurance and AAA cards in our wallets taking up valuable space where another maxed-out credit card could have gone.
In my line of work, when something didn’t make sense, you sat down and traced back what happened. You pulled it apart to its basic parts and examined each one. So as I sat there Friday afternoon in my home office, waiting for Stein to get home from school, I dissected each and every word of our exchange in front of the fire station. Every glance, every look, every possible outlier.
And my only conclusion was that Lily-Marie simply didn’t like me.
It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. I wasn’t really the kind of guy who inspired enthusiastic friendships or grand love affairs. I was steady. I was purposeful. When I did things, they made sense. When someone helped me, I thanked them.
But Lily-Marie not liking me? That started an ache in my chest that a couple Tums I popped in my mouth didn’t seem to touch. Did she only agree to go shopping together because she pitied me? Hell, that felt even worse than simply not liking me. I pushed back from my desk and walked away from the papers that weren’t getting graded anyway while I sat there and ruminated on Lily-Marie’s reaction.
I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge. I gulped it down and pondered what to do with this new conclusion. Should I cancel shopping tonight? Should I go through with it and ask her what the deal was? Maybe my conclusion was wrong and I just needed to push harder with my fifty ways.
