“I’m sure Pete won’t mind,” Heather says at the same time I almost accidentally give myself third degree burns with the straightening iron.
Did Keats just ask his mother if we could double date with her? If I were a less desperate person, I’d think of my new friend first and the fact she’s going on her first date in almost thirty years with a real contender.
“Great. You’re free tonight, right, Jess?” Keats asks, walking over to his mother’s bed and sitting at the foot of it.
His presumption makes me stew. I almost tell him I’m busy but that would mean I miss out on hanging out with him…and his mother. Oh, God. I’ve sunk to a new low of desperation. Dating by proxy. Worse—non-dating. This is so not going to be a date, just like all those times Keats came by my flat and had dinner with me.
It’s so much easier to stay strong when he’s out of sight.
But wait, I could actually be doing something good here for my new friend. I can distract her overprotective son from cock-blocking her first potential, serious, post-divorce boyfriend.
“Great,” Keats says without waiting for a response. My inner turmoil obviously took too long for him. “What time are we leaving?”
“Pete’s coming to pick me up at four. We’re having dinner at the Yatala pie shop before the movie.”
He doesn’t even bat an eye at the “retiree-appropriate” meal time.
“Fantastic. I’m starving.”
I raise a brow at him but he just meets my gaze with a smug grin that has my knees wobbly. Seeing him sitting on a bed doesn’t make it much of a stretch to picture him on mine.
“Mr Barker still has that four-wheel drive, right? We can all fit in,” Keats says in a too-casual tone.
“Maybe you and Jess should take your car,” Heather suggests, finally catching on to her son’s less than altruistic interest in the night out.
“Parking would be hell.”
“Nonsense. There’s always space at the drive-in. Besides, you wouldn’t want to watch the movie from the backseat.” Heather suddenly looks from her son, to me and back again.
Keats’ grin wavers. “The drive-in? It’s winter.”
“We’ll bring blankets.” Heather flashes an encouraging smile at her son. “This is so exciting. A double date.”
“This isn’t a date,” Keats quickly clarifies.
“This isn’t a date,” I repeat a little more haltingly a second later, the words not rolling off my tongue as smoothly as I want. “Actually, I’m kinda busy tonight. You three go ahead.”
Oh, my God. I do have some pride.
The two McAllisters look at me, separately imploring me with their eyes to come. I guess Heather doesn’t like the idea of having her son completely cramp her style after all. And Keats…well, I’m not sure why he wants me to go. I’ve already served as an excuse for him to tag along.
I return my attention to my new friend. Her big blue eyes look at me expectantly before she lowers them as if too afraid to ask for help.
“I guess I can…cancel my, um, date.” I’m disappointed with how unconvincing that lie sounded. For someone who’s been bullshitting to save herself all her life, I seem to be losing my touch.
“Oh, Jess, I didn’t know you had a date,” Heather says at the same time her son pipes in with, “You have a date tonight?” The incredulity in Keats’ voice strengthens my resolve to keep the lie going.
“Yes. It’s a Saturday night. Don’t you?” I throw back to him.
“I’m not looking.”
Of course. He’s already found his brother’s fiancée.
“Guess your guy’s a bit of a loser if you’re cancelling on him.”
“Actually, he’s amazing.” And totally fictitious. “You’re right. I shouldn’t cancel on Neil. I mean, it’s so hard to find a guy without issues.” Oh, God. I can’t believe I’ve just name-dropped my fictional booty call guy again.
“He can come along, if you like,” Heather suggests. Wow. She really doesn’t want to get stuck at the drive-in with her grown son.
“Yeah. Let’s meet this ‘Neil’,” Keats says, a smile playing on his lips as he says another thing in quotation marks.
“I’m not sure he’d be free to come with us this early—I wasn’t meeting him till later.” Quietly to Keats, “Neil has a life.” Then back to my regular volume, “Why don’t you just let your mother and Pete go on their date on their own?”
The smile leaves Keats’ face while he silently mouths, “You have to come.” Out loud, he says, “Mom doesn’t mind. It’ll be a fun night out. Like a double date.” He flashes his mother a grin that she reciprocates, like she’s pleased that her son’s finally “admitting” there’s something going on between us.
***
“Thanks for coming, Hay-gen.” Keats says as soon as I slip into the bucket seat next to him.
“I’m not doing this for you. I’m going for Heather.” I click my seatbelt into place and look out my window as an epiphany hits me.
This is kind of like the romantic version of my friendship with Isabella. Keats is my “boyfrenemy” who isn’t even my boyfriend. I like him, but I don’t like him. It’s probably better for me to let him go, but it’ll leave a huge hole in my life that I’m not prepared to put there yet.
“That’s right. This whole dating my dad’s friend is your fault,” Keats says totally not getting or just plain ignoring the I-don’t-want-to-talk vibe I thought I was successfully radiating.
Can’t he see I’m still sore that he has no intention of ever kissing me again? I study his profile on my periphery. His eyes stay looking ahead at Pete Barker’s big white Pajero. Through the rear window, its owner and Heather are visibly chatting away in the front seat.
I scoff. “She’s happy. Aren’t you happy for your mum?” I pull down the hem of my dress which in the low sports car seat is in danger of revealing the cellulite that refuse to leave my upper thighs. I touch the dark dash. I miss
