March 15th is one of those days that will be forever etched in my memory. I was at work. Rain battered the window panes and torrents swept the sidewalks clean. Customers lingered with their mochas and cappuccinos longer than normal to avoid the monsoon that awaited them beyond the shelter of our doors. Isabella and Jake arrived after school. In the doorway, Jake stomped his feet and shook himself off like a wet dog. My daughter peeled off her hood, emerging with a huge grin plastered on her face, emitting happiness like the sun radiates warmth.
"Dad!" Isabella ran over to me. I smiled. For a moment I was back in Forks, my five-year-old little girl skipping toward me, pigtails flying.
"Dad, guess what came in the mail today!" Isabella sing-songed as she bounced up and down on her toes. I wiped my hands, suddenly slick with perspiration, on the apron tied low around my hips. Even with the envelope being waved frantically, I spied the cardinal and gold crest of the University of Southern California on the top left. My heart sank.
"USC? Is this Jake's?" I took the envelope from her, fingers tracing over the typewritten name. Miss Isabella Cullen. Every letter jabbed into the fleshy part of my fingertip; into my heart.
"You...you were accepted to USC?"
"I know! Isn't it great?" Isabella was oblivious to the jumble of emotions within me.
"Why do you want to go to a college a thousand miles away from home?"
A thousand miles away from me.
"Dad," her voice was apologetic, her hand on my arm. "It's a great school. You know that."
Jake fell back, giving my daughter and me a moment to talk.
"Sweetheart, you don't need to follow a dream I once chased."
"That's not…." I cut her a glance and she relented. She reached for my hand, gave it a squeeze. "You've given up so much for me. I want this for you as much as I want it for me."
My heart melted. I looked at her, searching her eyes for that fleck which would tell me if she was lying or not. There was no hint of doubt, it simply wasn't there. Instead she was giddy with anticipation, the very sentiment I once felt - could still feel if I let myself go there.
It looked like Isabella would indeed follow the dream I'd once chased. I was happy for her but the feeling in my stomach was far from the elation I'd felt when the opportunity was mine. Another milestone - not only would my baby be going to college out of state, but also to the school of my dreams. I forced a smile.
"Well, you'd better stock up on sunblock - USC's only a half hour drive from Venice Beach." I opened my arms and folded her into a tight hug. "I'm so proud of you." I held her tight, too tight; my nose tickled by her hair. I breathed in her scent, knowing this was going to be one of those moments I'd always remember. I closed my eyes, soaked it in and then, with great reluctance, released her from the embrace.
"Thank you! Oh my gosh. California here I come! Can you believe it?" She gave a little squeal.
...
As much as I wanted my daughter to have the experience I never got, I also didn't want her to leave. There. I admitted it. I didn't want to be alone.
When I first moved to Edmonds, Isabella was all I had. Then Emmett and Rosalie were introduced to my life. When they hooked up and then got married, I distanced myself from them until the PDA wore off a bit - nothing like feeling like a third wheel - but at least I still had my daughter for company. And then Jake came on scene, leaving me in Isabella's wake. For the first time in a long time, I was lonely. When she went away to college it would be even more so.
Thankfully my good friends invited me to hang out with them so my life wasn't completely boring.
"Thanks for having me over, guys; I really appreciate it."
"Anytime," Rosalie reassured me.
"It's weird, you know? My life's been wrapped around Isabella for so long and now she's disentangled herself from me. I'm not even sure how to feel or what to do with myself."
"You should feel liberated. What? I'm serious." Emmett went on to explain after I gave him a questioning look. "You can be yourself again. Date, have a girlfriend; get laid, dude!"
My cheeks felt warm and I glanced at Rosalie, who smirked and shrugged her shoulders - apparently she agreed.
"He's right, you know. When was the last time you went on a date?" I started to reply but her eyebrow quirked. "A real one - not with Isabella, and a football game with Emmett doesn't count either." I closed my mouth.
"Forget dating, when was the last time you...?" His eyebrows wag suggestively.
Fucker, Emmett. He knew damn well it was probably circa 2005. Okay, not that far back but pretty damn close. It's really depressing when your kid has more sexy times than you do. I chose to ignore him.
"Besides the fact I wouldn't even know where to meet a girl, I don't know how to date. All I know is how to be a dad. That's who I am now. Seventeen years in the making.
"Before you were a dad, you were a man," Emmett reminded me but I shook my head.
"No, before I was a dad I was a kid. Ally and I didn't date. We fucked at a party. We never had a proper courtship or relationship."
"You've dated before; had girlfriends." I wasn't sure if Rosalie was making a statement or asking a question.
"Well, yeah, but it was a looong time ago. Shit, Isabella was four when Tori and I were together."
Rosalie smiled. "We once had a pretty nice date. You made me dinner, we had some wine..." Her voice tailed off because we all knew how that date ended. Well almost ended.
"Is that the night you almost got with my wife?" Emmett snort-laughed.
"I like to refer to it as the night prior to you getting with my babysitter." I flipped him the bird.
"Anyway," Rose redirected, "Dating hasn't changed much. You find a girl interesting or pretty or nice and you ask her out. Buy her dinner, maybe end the night with a kiss, whatever."
She made it sound easy enough.
Except it wasn't.
I Googled the top places to meet women in the Pacific Northwest. Number one was the grocery store. Why not, I thought to myself. It worked with Tori, only this time around I didn't have a cute kid as an icebreaker. Fuck it. I was a 35 year old man, I could turn on the charm and get a girl all by myself. I hoped.
I lucked out because the girl in line behind me at Fred Meyer wasn't ugly. I made casual conversation about the avocados she placed on the conveyor belt, asking what her plans were with them. What? I like avocados and apparently she did too, which meant we already had something in common. Except she looked at me as though I were a psychopath and ignored me completely. I didn't even get her name.
Undeterred, I hit up Albertsons the same night. Instead of asking about fruit like a dumb ass, I jerked my chin at the single serving Lean Cuisine.
"You know, I could make you a much nicer dinner than that. I mean, if you're interested sometime." I gave myself props because personally I thought it was a rather ingenious pick-up line. Her boyfriend/husband definitely significant other didn't find it so great. He sidled up, wrapped his arm protectively around her waist and glared at me until I hauled ass out of there.
Google suggested the gym as another place to meet women. I'm not a gym-type guy. I much prefer me, a pair of Nikes, and the open road, but I joined a spin class at the community center where the majority of the participants were women (AKA: lots of options.) There, I met Sue. She was attractive, even with sweat trickling down her back. I asked if she'd be interested in going for a ride some time and she was enthusiastic.
Early one Saturday morning we loaded up our mountain bikes (I rented mine the day before) and took off for what I thought would be, a nice, relaxing afternoon of cycling. It was grueling; I thought I might die. For real. Sue didn't break a sweat. I couldn't look like a wuss so I endured the pain and had to avoid sitting on my bruised rear end for a week after. I never returned her calls.
I met Gianna at Rory's bar and grill. She approached me, asking if I wanted to play pool. I accepted on the condition I was allowed to buy her a drink. I ended up buying her two and she snookered my ass. When the live band started up it was too noisy to talk so I invited her back to my place, knowing Isabella still had two hours til curfew. Gianna was game so I cleared our tab.
"I want to be honest with you," I confessed as we shrugged into our jackets.
Gianna groaned. "You're not a he-she are you?"
I laughed. "Uh no. I have a kid, though. I haven't exactly dated for a while."
Or a decade or so.
"You're doing just fine, Edward." She slipped her hand through the crook of my arm as we walked to our cars. Driving home, I felt more confidence than I had in awhile.
"Nice place," she complimented when we got to my apartment. "Show me around?"
Now, I know I'd been out of the dating scene for a while but I didn't read any sexual undertones in her comments at all so I showed her my humble abode, all 1100 square feet.
My bedroom door was barely ajar when Gianna started palming my junk then dropped to her knees, fingers making quick work of my zipper.
"Whoa!" I grabbed her hands to still them, my eyes bugging out of their sockets.
"Oh sorry... I assumed you'd want a blow job but we can get right down to it, that's fine." Gianna pulled a condom packet from who-the-fuck-knows-where, handed it to me then stripped out of her jeans before peeling off her shirt. Her bra and panties were white and lacey. Damn. I was completely tongue tied as she stood in front of me practically naked.
Light bulb.
Wait a second. She was very businesslike, condom at the ready, and naked in 30 seconds flat. I scratched my head.
"Are you…? Is this...I mean, I think there's been a mistake." I finally managed to stutter. "I'm not looking to pay for sex."
Her hand connected with my cheek - sharp and fast. Gianna wasn't a prostitute as I'd wrongly assumed. She was, however, extremely pissed off.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" She reached for her shirt, yanking it over her head. "Just because a girl thinks you're hot and wants to have sex with you doesn't make her a whore. You've obviously been out of the game for way too long." She turned on her heels and headed for the front door.
"Wait, Gianna!" I chased after her.
"What?" Her eyes were narrowed, hands on her hips.
"I'm sorry." I didn't know what else to say.
She nodded. "Me too."
I hemmed and hawed for a second. "But you, uh, think I'm hot?"
"Oh my God." She threw her hands up and stormed out to her car. I had a cold shower and berated myself for being a fucking idiot.
Emmett and Rosalie were sympathetic when I told them my dating disaster stories. Well, Rose was; Emmett laughed at me. Fucker. Rosalie reassured me that dating was harder than it had been 20 years prior. Girls didn't need anyone to buy them drinks - they bought their own. They didn't wait for a guy to make a move - they were assertive (especially so in Gianna's case.) Sex was as casual as mine and Ally's had been and it wasn't frowned upon by society.
Emmett told me I was trying too hard, advising that I shouldn't ever have to use a pick-up line or pretend to be something I wasn't (like a fan of mountain biking). It was his idea to sign up for meet_me dot com where there wasn't any pressure to be anything other than literate, as most of the initial conversations were via email or text message. Rosalie wrote my bio on Sunday night and by Monday morning my inbox was flooded. I had no idea there were so many women who were desperate. I mean, interested in dating. And since I was in the same boat, I guess I was also that desperate.
Anyone who over-inflated themselves or used superfluous words, I deleted. The women who were blatant cougars, I blocked. There was one, though, who caught my eye. Carmen seemed to be a perfect match, on paper anyway. Her reply to my bio was simple.
'Hey,' she wrote. 'You sound like the type of guy I'm hoping to meet. I'm 33, also a single parent, mom to an 8 year old boy and recently divorced. I'm an art instructor at Charter College. My girlfriend coerced me into signing up for this website; I'm not even sure I'm looking for a romantic relationship but certainly a friendship would be nice. Email back if you're interested. No pressure."
And that was exactly what I was looking for - friendship yes, relationship possibly, no pressure definitely. Carmen and I 'talked' via text messages for a week before setting a date for a drink.
Meeting my blind date was extremely nerve racking. I couldn't care less if she was 120 or 180 pounds, if she was blonde with blue eyes or brunette with green eyes. My only hope was that she was as true in person as she appeared in her emails.
Thank God she was.
Carmen was also really attractive. Five foot eight, long blonde hair tied back in a low ponytail with gorgeous hazel eyes. She was curvy in all the right places.
Upon first meeting I extended my hand and she leaned in for a hug. We both laughed it off and admitted how nervous we were. It was probably the best thing to happen because we got it out in the open right at the starting gate.
We met at seven pm and I was walking her to her car at eleven. Time flew by with no awkward lulls in the conversation.
We talked about Ally, albeit briefly, and about her ex and failed marriage. When she spoke of Aaron, her son, she became so animated; hands waving and a smile plastered on her face. She was quick to apologize for monopolizing the conversation about him and I laughed, reassuring her I'd talk her ear off about Isabella- and I did.
Carmen and I, we just...clicked. We liked the same food, drinks, preferred football to baseball, were passionate about our line of work, and fiercely protective of our kids. I would've loved to chat longer but she needed to get home for the sitter so we hugged goodbye and called it a night.
On the drive back home I was giddy. I wanted to call Carmen immediately but showed some restraint, calling Emmett to gush instead. In my excitement, I paid no attention to the late hour and completely forgot he was opening the cafe the next morning. He groggily chuckled at my enthusiasm then called me an asshole for waking him up.
As I walked in the front door, my phone rang. I smiled when I recognized Carmen's number.
"Carmen, hi!" I said it a little more enthusiastically than I'd planned.
"Sorry, I hope it's okay to call you this late."
"Absolutely. I'm glad you did. I had a great time tonight." I sprawled out on the couch, phone pressed to my ear.
"Me too. I hope we can do it again sometime."
I should have played it cool but couldn't.
"What about tomorrow night?" I glanced at the time. "I mean tonight."
Carmen laughed. "I'd like that."
We set up a time for the following evening and then talked for another hour. Only when I could hear her yawning through the wire did we end the call. I could hardly wait for the next time I'd see her.
Isabella's off to college and Edward is starting to date...some of my favorite chapters are coming up. I hope you're all still enjoying the story. Thank you for your lovely reviews.
Alanna: thank you for being you xo