"Dad…" Penelope began in an exasperated voice.
"Huh?" Dave grunted as he used two fingers to type the third descriptive word that summed up his personality in a nutshell.
Joining an online dating site had been an ingenious idea. With the help of his daughter, he now had a profile and was filling in the details. Baiting the perfect catch would be a cinch with the help of technology. If only it had been this easy the first time around and the second and the third…
"Most women aren't looking for someone who's 'weathered,' 'kid-friendly,' and 'industrious.' Try again."
"Ah, but I'm not looking for 'most women,' Penelope."
Derek peered into the room in time to catch the last bit of the conversation. Curious, he approached the computer and stood behind his dad and sister, leaning in for a better look at the screen.
"Chicks dig a guy who's mature, playful, and vivacious, though. Change the wording and I'm sure you'll hook a big, juicy one. Lemme see the matches when he's done." Derek added, winking at Penelope, who wrinkled her nose and mumbled something along the lines of 'too old for you' as Derek slipped out of the room.
"Too bad the big and juicy ones tend to be slippery," Dave commented aloud, changing his three words to experienced, paternal, and vigorous.
It wasn't until the end of the week that anything came of the dating site.
Penelope and JJ were walking home from school together like they normally did. The mid-afternoon sun stretched its fingers to graze the tops of their heads, staining their blonde locks with a golden glow. Penelope's streaks of purple highlights, of course, beamed a more radiant shade of purple.
Nearby, a cluster of high school buddies become distracted by the sound of soles slapping against the pavement. The leader of the pack, a toned, tanned mountain of a guy, lowered his sunglasses as JJ and Penelope passed by, earning a glare from the shorter and stouter of the two girls as he unabashedly checked out her sister. He muttered something to his friends and the group had a mixed reaction: the other boys patted him on the back and urged him on while a few of the girls scowled and the rest rolled their eyes.
"Hey!" the guy called, simultaneously pulling something out of his pocket and advancing on JJ's receding back.
JJ and Penelope whirled around, surprised, the latter fixing Mountain Boy with a dangerous look that would've scared anybody with half his wits.
"My name's Frank. Me and my friends are throwing a party next weekend over at my boy Nathan's house. You feel free to stop by and… get acquainted." The dimwit winked.
"Uh… okay. I'll run it by my dad," JJ replied as she accepted the written invitation from his hand.
Frank returned to his gang and earned a high five from one of the smaller and less attractive guys.
"You're actually considering going?" Penelope said incredulously, arching an eyebrow so it appeared over the frame of her glasses.
"Well, yeah. You'd go with me, right?"
"Uh… negative. They didn't even invite me, remember?"
"What? This invitation was for the both of us!" JJ protested, waving the piece of paper around in the air.
"Yeah, sure it was. That's why he was staring at you the whole time."
"Come on, Penelope. Maybe you'll meet someone there."
"Nah, I don't think there'll be anyone there who's my type. Don't worry, the World Wide Web and I have a date that night."
"Well, I'm not going alone," JJ stated firmly, with a hint of disappointment in her tone. She'd never been given an invite to a high school party before. She'd need to find someone to go with her.
It was a quiet Friday afternoon. Penelope was typing away on her laptop, earphones in and head bobbing. Aaron was on the phone with his girlfriend, Emily was teaching JJ how to unwrap a Starburst with just her tongue, and Derek was lifting five pound weights while watching TV. During the commercials, he'd invent creative new ways to irk Spencer, who was attempting to study on the other end of the couch.
"It's Friday…" Derek had stated earlier. "Why are you doing homework?"
"This is due Thursday," Spencer had explained.
"Really… Thursday…"
"Yes, that's in less than a week! I've never been this far behind!" Spencer had squeaked.
And so, good old-fashioned family bonding ensued; that is, until Dave came bounding out of his office with earth-shattering news.
"I've got a date tonight!"
A moment of silence followed. Aaron, temporarily distracted from his phone call, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, eventually broke the silence. "Yeah, Haley, I'm still here." Then the floodgates opened.
"Yeah, way to go, Dad!" Derek whooped, jumping up and offering a high five, which Dave waved away.
"Nice one, Dad."
"Who is she?"
"Is she rich?"
"What time will you be home?"
"Actually," Dave began, "I was hoping all of you would come along and meet her yourselves."
There was another soundless pause.
"You know what, I'll call you back later, Haley. Yes, it's urgent. Bye."
"You want to take us along on your date?" Derek asked, wrinkling his forehead.
"You think your date wants the whole family there the first time?" Emily added, disbelieving.
"You're not serious, right?"
"I'm a hundred percent serious. I told her right off the bat that my kids mean everything to me. I'm not going to lead her on. I'm taking you all the first time and if she doesn't like you, then it's over. She has to get along with my kids or there's no point of going any further than date one. You understand now? She seemed to."
A half an hour later, the entire Rossi family piled into the van and set out on their little adventure. Aaron scanned the map and narrated the way to the bar and grill where they were going to meet Maggie.
Maggie Lowe arrived at the restaurant fifteen minutes early and reserved a table for eight. When Dave and his baggage finally arrived, she was ecstatic to see that he was just as handsome in person as he was in the photos. She greeted him with much enthusiasm and his mere presence allowed her to continue smiling as he introduced her to his plethora of offspring.
She sat next to Dave at the table, after he'd so graciously pulled the chair out for her like a true gentleman. She couldn't help but be distracted, however, by the sour-looking brat seated opposite from her. The adolescent – what had Dave introduced her as? Emma or something – had a scrutinizing gaze, which was fixed on Maggie. Every time Maggie looked back into those dark eyes encircled with thick black makeup and attempted to smile, a shiver traveled up her spine. She tried to ignore it.
"So, Dave, what do you do for a living? That part of your profile was surprisingly… vague."
"I'm an undercover cop," Dave revealed, grinning charmingly. "And yourself?"
"Oh," Maggie replied, visions of handcuffs and batons flashing through her mind. "I'm a makeup artist," she said with a glance and a shudder in Emily's direction. "I work with young actresses…"
As Dave and Maggie chatted, a lot of noise broke out at the other end of the table.
"Derek!" Aaron barked sternly, fixing his brother with a warning stare.
"What?" Derek exclaimed, raising his hands in the air. "I'm not doing anything."
"You were making another spitball out of JJ's straw wrapper to propel in my direction. You are now hiding it on the inside of your cheek and I'm still waiting for you to extract this first one from my hair," Spencer said.
Derek looked at his sisters for support but JJ simply raised her eyebrows and grinned, Penelope winked, and Emily was too busy glaring at her lap.
"Oh, alright," Derek conceded, avoiding eye contact with Aaron. He ran a hand through Spencer's greased back hair, ruffling it. The spit wad fell to the floor.
"Hey!" Spencer objected, frantically flattening and smoothing back his mussed hair.
Aaron sighed heavily with disapproval as the younger two boys opened their mouths to resume their bickering. Just then, the waiter arrived. Dave genially gestured for Maggie to order first.
"I'll have the salmon with a –" she began, only to be interrupted by one of the little twerps.
"Did you know that according to the U.N. Food and Agricultural Organization, eighty percent of the world's fisheries are now overexploited by fishermen? Overfishing is a major problem that will seriously threaten the viability of ocean ecosystems in the decades ahead."
"Spencer…" Dave interjected, but the smart mouth with glasses wasn't finished.
"You should inquire as to whether the salmon is 'Atlantic' or farmed. Wild Alaskan salmon is not only more palatably pleasing, but it is also healthier for the environment. Farmed salmon causes much pollution and contributes to overfishing since it takes four to eleven pounds of wild fish to create one pound of farmed salmon. And 'Atlantic' salmon is ironically named as it usually doesn't even come from the Atlantic Ocean." The kid laughed at something that only he found amusing before opening his big mouth again. "Our food choices have a huge impact on – Ow! Who kicked me?"
A lot of 'shhh' noises were directed at Spencer from around the table.
Maggie's lips opened and closed a few times and she held much likeness to a fish. "Listen here, you snotty little smartass. I don't give a damn about sea life and if you ever lecture me again, I'll –"
"That's enough," Dave snapped forcibly, holding up a hand. "I'll pay the bill for the drinks now," he addressed the waiter. "And then we'll be off."
Maggie screamed and hurled her desert pear margarita at Dave's head.