Page 123 of The Great Dating Fake Off
“Lord, you men and your problems keep me busy,” she grumbles. “It’s a good thing I’ll have all this cash I won at poker the last two weeks to keep me company after I’ve fixed your lives and you abandon me for your women. But I guess it’s better than being abandoned for Nebraska.”
“You are the queen of abandoning people for your woman,” I remind her.
“Well, yeah, have you met her? Eloise is perfection incarnate.” A group of four passes through the gate. Alessia rises to her feet and beckons us to follow to free up the court. “Don’t steal that line, by the way. I’m using it in my vows.”
We move toward the exit that leads to the YMCA’s parking lot. “You don’t even have a wedding date and you’re already writing vows,” I note. “Nice work.”
“Someday, when you’re all the way in love, you’ll understand.”
“I’m going to put ‘perfection incarnate’ in my vows.”
She knocks off my hat, forcing me to circle back to pick it up. When I catch up, I pull Enzo into my side, lighter than I’ve felt in years. “Who are you texting?”
“I can’t just stand here miserable while you two ride off into the sunset with your girls.” His finger moves as he scrolls. “I’m fixing my relationship once and for all.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Nora
I’m so busy fighting with Benji’s rusty old corkscrew I almost don’t notice my phone going off in my back pocket.
When I finally feel it, my foolish, smitten heart flutters in a rhythmic way as if chanting Seb-as-tian in time with the vibrations.
It’ll never be him again, I remind myself.
I take a break from opening the Cabernet and pull out my phone. That fluttering gives way to an ache when I see who’s calling.
Momma Bear.
Finally.
“Mom?” I cradle the phone with my shoulder.
“Baby! It’s so good to hear your voice.” Her voice is light and summery, a bubbly aperitif spritzer on this hot day. “What’s cookin’ good lookin’?”
“I’ve been trying to call you for weeks. Where have you been?”
“I had to get a new phone after mine fell in the ocean. You’ll never guess which one!”
My immediate relief at the fact that she’s alive gives way to confusion. “Um…the Pacific? Last time we talked, you were in Seattle with helicopter dude.” As ever, I sound like the worried mother and she sounds like the free-spirited daughter.
“Nicholas,” she supplies. “Yes, that’s who I’m with. Hang on, I have something to show you!”
I hover in front of the fridge and study the assortment of magnets Benji keeps there. “Holding.”
My phone pulses once. A photo comes through. She’s riding a mule with white stucco buildings in the foreground and pristine turquoise waters sparkling in the distance.Her straw hat obscures half her face. “Nicholas whisked me to Santorini. Can you believe it?”
“Whoa.” Of my mom’s various types, men who whisk her to Europe are my favorite. It’s much better than men who bleed her dry financially, or men who order her around.“That’s awesome.”
“Sorry I’ve been out of touch. Between traveling, missing a flight at Heathrow, spending two days in Paris before flying to Greece, it’s been hectic, but you know Europe is one of my dreams.”
She has so many of them. A million tiny dreams she collects like trinkets. Her biggest fear, she told me one night when we were sharing a bed in our Oklahoma studio apartment many moons ago, was that she wouldn’t get to live enough lives and be all the versions of herself she wanted to be. There’s always something more or somewhere else, if only she can get there.
“That does sound like a dream. I’m happy for you.”
“One more picture,” she says, voice tinged with wicked glee. “It’s a birthday present I want you to see.”
I pull the phone away from my ear.
