Kismetology (17 page)

I now know that I am looking for a fun, exciting and
unpredictable man who will inject a bit of a thrill in to her life. Assuming
that I don’t mean guys with porn DVDs stuffed down their jackets, where on
earth am I going to find someone like that?

"Is my dad here yet?" Jenni asks. She’s working on
a client whose hair has taken longer than expected and is running late.

"Not that I can see," I reply. "Why? Is he
coming here?"

"Yeah, he’s picking me up from work tonight. I told
you, I couldn’t get my car to start this morning."

"Oh."

Oh. I haven’t seen Jeff since the date. The first date, when
I started this whole stupid scheme that has been nothing but trouble. In
reality it wasn't even three months ago, but it feels like a lifetime ago. I
feel so naïve when I think back to that first meeting in Starbucks, where I met
Jeff and actually thought he might be the one. I was actually deluded enough to
believe that it might be that easy. I’ll never understand why he and my mother
didn’t get on. He was a really good match.

Right on cue, Jeff walks into the salon. He waves at Jenni,
and sits down in a chair to wait for her. He smiles at me. I’ve finished with
clients for the day, and am just cleaning up, so I think that I’ll be polite
and go over to say hello.

"Hey you," I say. "How are you?"

"Hi Mackenzie. I’m good, thanks. You?"

"Fine," I say.

"I hear you’re still looking for a man for that mother
of yours."

"Yep." I nod. "It’s a lot harder than I
thought."

"Yeah, she sure seems like the type that will never be
satisfied."

"What do you mean?"

"Didn’t she tell you about our date?"

"Yes," I say, trying to remember back that far.
"She said it was wonderful, and she had a great time, but there was no
chemistry between you two. I thought there was chemistry, but obviously I was
wrong."

"Well, I did too. I had a lovely time with her, I
thought she really liked me, and I thought everything was going really well.
Then in the car on the way home, I asked if I could see her again, and she
said, ‘I’m not really feeling it, but thanks for a nice night’. I mean, I
thought we had something there, but I’m not going to push her. If a lady says
no, then she means no."

"Really? You should have pursued it."

"Nah. I’m not one of those guys who doesn’t take no for
an answer. If she doesn’t want to see me again, then she doesn’t want to see me
again. Pathetic begging on my part is not going to help." He shrugs.

I smile. I still really like him, and I still fail to see
why my mum didn’t. I’m tempted to set them up again—I could’ve sworn on that
instant chemistry between them—but Jeff is right, bless him. No does mean no.
But why? He’s so nice. Jenni is lucky to have him as a father. He’s a damn site
more useful than my own father ever was, and this is only the second time I've
met him. I wonder if Jenni knows how lucky she is.

"I’m sorry it didn’t work out between you," I say.
"I really am. I honestly thought you two would be perfect for each
other."

"I thought we had something there too, but sometimes
things just don’t work out the way you expect them to. There doesn’t even have
to be a reason."

You see how nice he is? I have a sudden urge to hug him. I
have no idea why. He’s just a really, really nice guy, and I can tell that what
his wife did to him and the divorce still have a lasting impact. It’s not my
place to hug him but I hope that Jenni hugs him often to make up for it.

"Well, I hope you find someone who deserves you,"
I say instead.

He smiles at me, a soft look passes over his face for a
minute. "Thanks, Mac." He pats my hand. "But I’m not really
looking. I only agreed to meet Eleanor because you were one of Jen’s friends."

I nod. "Well, you can’t rush these things."

"No. I hope you find someone good for your mum too.
She’s a great woman, she deserves someone really special."

"Thanks," I say. "So do you."

CHAPTER 30

Okay, so the entire internet in
general hasn’t been very helpful at all. I decide that maybe love should be
found the old-fashioned way. I get to thinking about my next potential set up.
Every week at the big discount store off Nightingale Way where I go to pick up
my work supplies, there is a guy who works there, and every week he stops
whatever he happens to be doing to chat to me. I take this to be a sign of
loneliness. He’s never mentioned whether he has a wife or not, and I can’t
remember noticing a wedding ring, although to be fair, I’ve never been looking
for one before. He is a lovely guy, very friendly, always has time for a chat
and a bit of local gossip. I’ve seen him helping people reach things from the
higher shelves, and that alone is enough to convince me that he is a nice guy.
Kindness goes a long way.

And he is as good looking as I could ever hope for. He’s an
older version of George Clooney, but with darker hair and more laughter lines
around his smiley brown eyes. He has to be mid to late fifties.

The next time I go to Discount Supplies I don’t see him at
first. Just my luck that the one day I have something to ask him, he isn’t
there. I’ve almost given up, and as I go to walk out the door, my arms loaded
with bags, guess who happens to be coming in at the same time? I pluck up the
courage to ask him outright.

"Excuse me? It’s Ron, right?"

He turns around and smiles at me. "It sure is, Miss
Atkinson."

"Hi. Um, could I ask you something? Something kind of
personal?" I ask.

"Of course, fire away."

"Are you single?"

"I am," he says. "Divorced two years ago. Why
do you ask?"

"Well..." I shift on my feet.

"Here, let me help you with those bags," he says,
taking a couple out of my hands.

"Thank you."

"Come on, I’ll walk you to your car."

"Right," I say, trying to indicate with my head
for him to follow me. "This is kind of awkward. Are you dating anyone, or
looking to date at the moment?"

He laughs. "This isn’t some kind of push for one of
those online dating thingies, is it?"

"No," I say. "It’s kind of unusual, but the
thing is, I’m looking for a date for my mother. She’s a lovely woman, about
your age, but she’s been really lonely lately, and I want to find her someone
she could be happy with."

"That is unusual."

"Well, I thought of you. You seem really nice, and I think
you’d get on really well with Eleanor." I’ve more than learnt my lesson
that referring to her as "Mum" throughout the entire conversation
really puts men off.

"So, you’re playing cupid then?"

"Well, you know, I thought who better to find her a man
than me."

"That’s a really nice thing to do." He puts the
bags down in front of the boot as I unlock the car.

"Um… Okay, yeah sure, why not?" He says. "I’m
in."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Great. When are you free?"

"Whenever you want me to be."

I pull out my date diary. Finally, a date that I don’t have
to screen. This week is looking pretty empty actually. With no creeps from the
internet to deal with, both my mother and I are surprisingly un-booked.

"How about Thursday night?" I ask.

"I’m free."

"Great. Do you have any preference
restaurant-wise?"

"I know a great little place. Do you know The Riverside
Café on Riverside Drive? It overlooks the river. It’s beautiful there."

I’ve never heard of it, but it sounds nice.
"Okay," I tell him, entering it into the date diary.

"How does eight p.m. suit you?"

"Fine," he says. "How will I know your
mum?"

"Er…" I try to think of what I’ll need to package
her in. That lilac blouse with the dark purple flowers on the sleeves would
look nice.

"She’ll be wearing black trousers and a lilac
top," I tell him. "Shoulder length brown hair, blue eyes and
glasses."

"Okay then. Sounds great."

"Okay then. Thank you," I say to him.

"Thursday it is. See you soon." He turns to walk
away. "Oh and Mackenzie?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for thinking of me. I’m honoured."

I smile. "You’re welcome."

"Honey, can I borrow your baseball cap?" I call
out, knee deep in the contents of my closet and unable to find a single hat
that my mother won’t recognise.

I don’t wait for an answer, just pluck Dan’s way too big
Texaco cap off the shelf and curl my ponytail under it. I look in the mirror,
already running low on time. The result isn’t as bad as I expected it to be. My
scarf hides half of my face, Dan’s hat hides the other half, and it’s cold
enough outside so that I don’t look like a complete oddball to be wearing so
many clothes. I think it’s a good disguise, even though I haven’t managed to
find a wig, hiding my hair under a baseball cap will have to do.

Dan is sitting with his feet up on the coffee table and the
TV remote in his hand when I come into the living room. He looks at me a
moment. "I don’t dare to ask," he says before going back to flicking
through TV channels.

"I’m going to watch," I tell him.

Dan just looks at me. "How can you
watch
a date,
Mac? Enlighten me."

"She must be doing something wrong, right? She’s
scaring them off. All these perfect men, and not one of them want a second
date. I have to find out what’s going on. Ron is a really good catch, and I’m
not going to let her lose him like she lost Jeff. Don’t worry, they won’t even
know I’m there."

He makes a noise that I take to be a sceptical-sounding
snort.

"Well, someone needs to do something. There’s no point
in setting her up on dates if she’s only going to scare them away. I need to
find out what she’s doing wrong so I can fix it."

Dan just looks at me again, it is his
I think you’re
insane
look.

I sneak out to my car like a super spy. It’s not even as if
I think my mother might be watching. Ron picked her up ten minutes ago. I know
this because I may have been staring out of our bedroom window with a pair of
crappy binoculars.

I’m actually wearing so much clothing that it is difficult
to move. I have on a pair of inconspicuous black trousers. My t-shirt is black
too, but it’s hidden by my new black coat—that I went out at lunchtime today to
buy—because my mum would probably recognise every other coat that I own. It
just had to be black, and zip up high. It does. It zips up to my nose. I am
also wearing a black scarf, sunglasses, and Dan’s baseball cap. In fact, I am a
little worried that I look more like a burglar than a daughter on a secret
mission. Tonight I am Mackenzie Atkinson, part of the
Stop Mum Dumping That
Man
operation.

I just hope I don’t get thrown out of The Riverside Café for
looking like a terror suspect.

I park my car a few streets away and walk in. Thankfully it
really is quite cold tonight so I don’t look too out of place. But I feel it. I
feel insane. Is this really what it has come down to? Creeping around Bristol
at night, dressed like I’m about to hike up Everest, trying to see and overhear
snippets of conversation from someone else’s date, just to try to figure out if
my mother is doing something specific to frighten men away? I must be crazy.

I kind of wish that I knew the area and the restaurant
better. If only we were at Belisana. But I’ve never been here before. I think
any real super spy would have checked out the premises before the mission, but
what can I say? It was a spur of the moment decision to do this. I suddenly
thought "
Hey! I can dress up like an extremely cold bank robber and
follow my mother around without getting noticed and/or arrested
."

I sneak in to the restaurant and spot Mum and Ron immediately.
She is laughing loudly at something he is saying. This is a good sign, right? I
sit down at the bar, and realise that I haven’t brought anything to read with
me. Damn. I intended to fetch a big folder along so I could hide my face behind
it, but in my excitement I’ve left it in the car.

"Could I see a menu?" I hiss at the bartender.

He produces one and hands it to me. I wonder if he’ll mind
me keeping it for the next hour. He probably will. I want to get a bit closer
to them so I can hear what they’re saying, but I don’t want to draw attention
to myself. And if I sit too close, they might notice me anyway. I shift a
couple of stools down at the bar. Now I can overhear a little of what Eleanor
is saying if she raises her voice.

They’re talking about their dogs—big surprise there. Mum
seems pleased. Perhaps Ron is a dog person. A small dog person. All I know is
that this guy is a good catch, and I have to do something to make sure she
gives him a chance. I think that she’s not giving these men a chance. Maybe a
little bit like I’m not, I think. Isn’t it true that one little flaw, no matter
how minute, is enough for me to get up and walk out of the restaurant right
there and then. What if I’ve passed over
The One
, because he had bad
teeth, or had indulged in the wine a little too much? What if all this is my
fault because I’m a little too picky?

But no, I knew when I started this that he had to be
the
perfect man
. Mum could find any amount of losers on her own. The whole
point of me doing this was for her to find someone great. And yes, okay, maybe
it is a little harder than I thought, but so what? Wasn’t the whole point to
put the effort in now, and hopefully reap the rewards of peaceful Friday nights
with Dan later?

And so what if I’ve passed over men because they’ve asked
for a blowjob in the bathroom stall? Aren’t we allowed to have high standards
anymore? Why should I be expected to lower my standards for the men my mum has
to try to make a life with, just because it’s been difficult so far?