THREE
Rose
A n hour later, I stride out onto the sidewalk in front of Astor Tower and immediately pull my wool coat tighter around my shoulders. It’s much too cold for April, even in Minnesota. The air smells like snow, but the skies are a deep, clear blue.
I slide my phone from my bag to check the weather, but the first thing that catches my attention is the small red number five above the purple Blindly icon. When I open the app, it indicates that I have four new match messages and one new message from BigSpoon92.
I tap that one first.
BigSpoon92 How was your day?
It was sent an hour ago, but I’ve been so busy I didn’t even see it come through. I planned on deleting the app tonight and downloading Bloom instead, but if someone is willing to listen to me vent about my crappy day, I can be persuaded.
ASingleRose26 Long. There are some really insufferable people in this city.
I swipe through my new match messages. I have two that simply say “hey,” a “what’s your snapchat?” and one that just includes a suspicious link that I’m definitely not going to click.
BigSpoon is quick with a reply, though.
BigSpoon92 Was it a guy? I’d be glad to punch him for you.
ASingleRose26 It’s not like that, but yeah, a big, inconsiderate, crabby guy
BigSpoon92 The offer still stands. Just say the word.
I smirk as I climb into a waiting cab.
ASingleRose26 I’ll let you know. I might take you up on that tomorrow. How was your day?
BigSpoon92 Fairly uneventful. Hoping the weather holds out. Planning on heading up to the lake this weekend
ASingleRose26 Your profile says you have a cabin there?
BigSpoon92 Yep, right on the water. I head up whenever I can. It’s nice to get away
ASingleRose26 Do you live in the city?
BigSpoon92 Just outside the city. You?
ASingleRose26 I live and work downtown. What do you do?
BigSpoon92 I own my own business, which is also downtown. Are you originally from the area?
He owns a business? Ok, I’m listening now.
ASingleRose26 I’ve lived here my whole life. I keep telling myself I’m gonna move where it’s warmer. But I know it’ll never happen. My mom would kill me
BigSpoon92 Yeah, I get that. I’m originally from Madison, WI and my family is still there
ASingleRose26 I graduated from UW! Is that where you went? Why did you move here?
BigSpoon92 I didn’t go to UW, no. And haha, you say that like Minneapolis is such an awful place. I love it here
ASingleRose26 It’s too cold
BigSpoon92 Madison’s not much warmer. I moved here because I was looking for a change, and I had a friend in the area with some connections
ASingleRose26 So for a change, you moved from one big midwestern city to another?
BigSpoon92 You got it. I don’t claim to be quite as adventurous as you. You really jumped out of a plane?
ASingleRose26 Yep, two years ago. My best friend and I did it on a whim
BigSpoon92 That’s amazing. I’m impressed.
I should tell you, I have a thing with heights
ASingleRose26 What kind of thing? You only date taller women? ;)
BigSpoon92 Ha, no I’m afraid of heights
ASingleRose26 How tall are you?
BigSpoon92 Hmm, kinda defeats the purpose of the app, but I’ll bite. I’m just over 6ft
ASingleRose26 Good. I’m shorter. So, you won’t be afraid of me
BigSpoon92 Whew, that could have been disastrous
ASingleRose26 Crisis averted.
So, help me to understand this fear. Are your hands gonna go all sweaty on a ferris wheel?
BigSpoon92 I’d ride it. Can’t say I’d be thrilled though
ASingleRose26 Bungee jumping?
BigSpoon92 Absolutely not.
ASingleRose26 Aww, come on! You’d be strapped in!
BigSpoon92 Have you seen those videos where those bungees shrivel and snap like a rubber band? No thank you. I don’t trust them even a little bit
ASingleRose26 Ok, so let me get this straight. You come to this app to woo the ladies with tales of your fear of heights? Is that your secret?
BigSpoon92 Yeah, I’m doing great, aren’t I? Hmmm…I feel like I should insert a manly grunt or suave comment here
ASingleRose26 Let’s hear it. What’s the manliest thing about you?
BigSpoon92 I once won a tree felling contest
ASingleRose26 Tree felling?
BigSpoon92 Wood chopping. Essentially cutting down a tree
ASingleRose26 Wow, ok, you’ve redeemed yourself
BigSpoon92 It was just a local competition
ASingleRose26 But you WON. Major man points
BigSpoon92 I’ll take them. So, what brings you to online dating? Not enough prospects elsewhere?
A new text pops up from Junie, begging me to call her as soon as I can.
ASingleRose26 Sorry, I gotta go. Have a good night!
BigSpoon92 Oh, ok. Nice chatting. Hope tomorrow is better for you
I tap Junie’s name and hold the phone to my ear as it rings.
“Have you joined Bloom yet?” The words fly from her mouth as soon as she picks up.
“I’m on my way to my parents’ for dinner. But I’ll do it real quick.” I switch the call to speaker mode as I search for the app.
“So, is your office ceiling fixed?” Her voice rings out loudly into the cab.
“No, the hole is bigger than when it started,” I grumble as Bloom begins its download.
“What? How?”
“He had to cut out all the wet drywall, apparently. He’s gonna have to hang around for another two days to finish.”
“At least he’s hot.”
I scoff. “Well, why don’t you stop in and flirt with him then? Maybe he’s even hotter when he smiles. I’ll never know.” I think I catch a smirk from the cab driver in the rearview mirror.
I open the new app and begin navigating through the process of filling out my profile. Unlike Blindly, it requires a profile picture, so I upload a selfie I took at a concert last summer. My chocolate-colored hair frames my face in just the right way, my blue-grey eyes are set under a bronze eyeshadow I’d just bought, and my black dress is cut just low enough to be enticing.
Next comes a list of facts about myself. Body type, height, exercise habits, favorite foods, proclivity toward cats or dogs, level of education, profession, and income bracket.
I narrate my entries to Junie as I step out of the cab at my parents’ building and smile at Gerald, the doorman, as I enter and cross the expanse of marble floors to the elevator. In the app, I move on to the next section, which asks me for my preferences in a match. Almost every factor I’ve filled in for myself is available for me to select and require in a match, including income.
“What should I put?” I lean against the brushed-gold elevator wall paneling, hovering my finger over the options.
“What’s the highest?”
I gasp as I read off the number.
Junie laughs. “I think your mom would actually approve of that.”
“Well, I’m not quite as superficial as my mother.” I tap my own income bracket. That seems fair. And then I scroll to the education section. “Should I require a bachelor’s degree, master’s… doctorate? I can’t believe this is a thing. I feel a little bad about it.”
“Well, you’re looking for a well-educated guy with his priorities straight and an income to make you feel secure. You shouldn’t feel bad about watching out for yourself.”
“Yeah, I suppose.” I decide to select the master’s degree option. I only spent four years at the University of Wisconsin myself, but I got enough flak from my mother about that, I don’t need her to criticize my future boyfriend too.
“Alright, I think that’s everything. Now we wait.” I switch off the speaker setting and lift my phone back up to my ear.
“The messages are gonna pour in. Just sit back and take your pick,” Junie says.
The doors open to reveal the penthouse entryway. “If it’s anything like Blindly, most of them will be creeps.”
There’s a pause before she speaks. “Are you still talking to Mr. No-Face?”
I frown as I pause near my parents’ door. “A little.”
“Do you know anything about this guy?”
“He owns his own business.” I search through my purse for my key. “He won a tree felling competition.”
“What the heck is tree felling?”
“I don’t know, he climbed a tree or something.” I find the key and hold it in my hand with a pause.
“Sounds like the kind of guy your mom would approve of.” There’s heavy sarcasm laden in her voice.
I turn and slump my shoulder against the wall with a sigh. “When did you become my mom’s greatest advocate, Juniper?”
“Ok, ok. You don’t have to bust out my full name,” she shoots back. “I just don’t want you to get in too deep and then have your heart broken when you realize it won’t work.”
I close my eyes. “There’s nothing deep going on. I’ve talked to him twice. That’s all. And I figure you of all people should be encouraging me to defy my parents.”
“Because I defied mine?” she asks flatly.
“Yeah. Like a badass you did.” I open my eyes and nod, even though I know she can’t see me. “You’re stronger than anyone I know.”
“It’s not easy,” she says quietly. “To defy your parents.”
I exhale. “Well, hopefully I won’t have to.”
The door swings open and my mother peers out. “Oh! Rose, darling. I thought I heard you out here.”
“Gotta go, Junie,” I say into my phone.
“K, see you tomorrow.”
“Come in. Dinner’s almost ready.” My mother ushers me in. “Helene made Sole Meunière.”
“It smells delicious.” I set my bag on the entry table and follow her into the kitchen, where my parents’ housekeeper is busy at the stove. “I think you’re going to outdo yourself again, Miss Helene. My mouth is already watering.”
She turns and a warm smile spreads to her cheeks, pulling her laugh lines into their familiar places. “Oh, it’s not so hard. I could teach you sometime.” She’s been employed by my parents for over twenty years, so she feels like family.
I chuckle. “I’d burn it, for sure.”
Helene shakes her head and turns back to her work. “How was your day, Rosie?” It warms a spot in my heart when she calls me that. I feel like I’m eight years old again.
I pull out a stool at the counter and trace a vein of marble. “Not great. There was a leak in the ceiling of my office.”
“Oh dear. That sounds like a mess.”
My mother uncorks a bottle of wine and pours us both a glass. “I heard about that. I do hope it's sorted out quickly.”
I reach for my glass, but another hand beats me to it.
“Gotta be quicker than that,” my brother, Henry, mocks in my ear as he steals the glass and takes a sip.
I spin around and punch him in the shoulder. “Jerk.”
My mother sighs and pulls another glass from the cabinet. “Really, Henry. Have you decided when you’ll finally grow up?”
“No time soon.” He slides onto the stool next to mine and takes another sip.
I grab my new glass, rest my elbows on the counter, and turn to him. “How old are you, now?”
He scratches his five-o-clock shadow. “Seven.”
For the record, he’s twenty-eight, and arguably the smartest of the three of us. George is thirty and fits well into the eldest child stereotype, but hidden behind Henry’s goofy middle-child status is a sharp mind and a heart of gold.
My mother swirls her wine casually in her glass. “I spoke with Malcolm’s mother on the phone today.”
“Oh, give it a rest, Mom,” Henry cuts in. “Let Rose move on.”
She clears her throat. “We spoke about the Pruitt wedding this summer at Berkshire’s. Both families are invited. We were thinking it would be great to make a weekend of it.”
“I’d love to go. It’s been so long.” I grin eagerly, choosing not to linger on the fact that Malcolm will be there. Berkshire’s is a resort lodge up on Caribou Lake in Superior National Forest. We spent our summers there as a family. It’s quite literally in the middle of nowhere, but it felt like a magical wonderland back then. There were endless organized activities for the children and bottomless wine for the adults. It’s a luxurious retreat set against a backdrop of crystal-clear waters and towering pines. Think Kellerman’s from Dirty Dancing, but with sparkling chandeliers and personal butlers.
Henry sighs. “Surely we have better things to do than gossip with the wealthiest families in the state for a whole weekend.”
“Ella will be there, you know, Henry.” My mother raises a hopeful brow.
Henry stands and peers into the refrigerator, ignoring our mother. “Is that your famous tiramisu cheesecake, Helene?”
She begins to plate our meals. “Mhmm. But you have to eat your vegetables before you get any.”
He laughs as he shuts the door. “I’m twenty-eight, Helene. I think I can handle it.”
“Thought you just said you were seven.” She smirks as she passes him on her way to the dining room.
We all follow and sit down to dinner, where my father and George join us. It’s the best meal I’ve had in weeks. Nothing quite beats home-cooked, even when it’s made by your housekeeper instead of your mother.
The five of us all sitting around the table—it doesn’t happen very often anymore. I can almost transport myself back to my childhood, except George is still wearing his suit from the office, my dad’s sporting about half the hair he had back then, and Mom’s wrinkles are trying to show themselves behind all the daily serums she smears on.
Sometimes I dream of traveling back to those days. When Henry would hide my dolls, and I’d punch him until George pulled me away, and then I’d ride the elevator up and down for an hour, pretending to be a Lift Girl pressing the floor numbers for our neighbors. Then I’d sit and draw or try on my mom’s old dresses and heels because no one expected anything of me. Because I could just be me.
But now, I have a legacy to live up to, and the pressure is tangible.
“I heard you met with Mr. Lancaster today, Rose.” My father looks up from his plate. “Have you persuaded him to talk with his daughter about entrusting her funds with us yet?”
“She’s very happy with Blakely Partners. But I reminded him to tell her about our twenty-year savings incentive,” I reply. “He’s probably only got three months left in him, Dad. It’s hard to prioritize sales in our conversations.”
“Well, then he’s probably thinking long-term for his children. And I know you’ve made a good impression that he’ll pass along.” He sets his fork and knife horizontally on his empty plate, perfectly aligned.
“I’m sure he will.” I smile.
“Oh, that reminds me.” He touches his chin. “I met a very nice young man today. He’s Mr. Windsor’s only son. He’s about your age. Just completed his Doctorate. I told him you’d love to have dinner sometime.”
I shove a bite of sole into my mouth.
“He has great lineage. And he lives right here in the city. It would be a great pairing.”
Even my mother—Malcolm’s greatest fan—looks intrigued. “Just think! A Windsor!”
I try to smile. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Mr. Windsor has a daughter too.” My father looks pointedly at Henry and George. “She lives in St. Cloud, but the drive wouldn’t be too bad.”
“You know I’m too busy to think about that, Dad,” George says as he wipes his mouth with a French embroidered napkin. “With the company’s transition, I’ve got a lot of work to do.”
My mother raises a brow. “You can’t stay a nomad forever. I see the pretty women you parade around—you and Henry—” She looks pointedly at the younger of the two. “These are not going to be the mothers of my grandchildren. It’s time to settle down.”
Henry is shoving food into his mouth so he doesn’t have to speak, and George just sighs and takes a silent drink.
This is how family dinners go in our home. And this is why they rarely happen.