13. Hayworth
THIRTEEN
HAYWORTH
The call was unexpected.
And so was the offer.
I’m not sure why I’d even say yes other than to spend more time with Felix, which is bizarre because I don’t do dating. I know he suggested it in my professional capacity, but I have no clue why I accepted. My reputation around town is in the gutter. It’s not going to get any better because I fake date another dude for a couple weeks or however long this charade is going to go on, but I don’t think Felix understands that.
When I’m back in Maplewood later, after a long and frustrating operation of trying to get a guy to hit on me and accept my offer for a blowie I’m wiped.
Of course the guy fell for it. And of course his husband was waiting for him in the restroom to tell him they’re done. It may be my job to get people answers but it doesn’t mean I enjoy being witness to their heartbreak. It’s horrible to see and even worse to experience. I should know. Been there, got the postcard to prove it.
Mom is already drinking coffee when I let myself in and she puts her book down as soon as she sees my face.
“Honey! Is everything okay?”
I take my coat off, drape it over the chair and take a seat opposite her. “Just a long day.”
“You were working?” The usual sarcasm at the mention of my job is absent in her expression this time as she leans closer and looks deep into my eyes with a penetrating gaze only parents can possess.
“Yeah. I had a job in Montpelier.”
Mom gives my hand a squeeze and then pours me a cup, glancing my way every few moments as if she’s afraid I’ll break down when she’s not looking. “It didn’t go well?” she asks.
I let out a long sigh and reach for my cup.
“It went as expected.”
Mom presses her lips together. “Oh honey. I don’t know why you keep doing this to yourself.”
“I’m not doing anything to myself.” I frown.
“Did you forget I made you? You can’t hide from me.”
“Oh yeah? And what am I hiding?” I rest my elbows on the table and raise an eyebrow, hiding my mouth with my cup.
“I’m no fool and neither are you. We both know why you started doing this ‘job.’” And there’s the sarcasm I’ve come to expect from her. “I just don’t understand why you continue when it destroys you.”
I let out a laugh but I choke on the coffee still swirling in my mouth.
“It doesn’t destroy me, Mother. Don’t be so dramatic. I just don’t take pleasure in seeing couples break up even if I’ve come to expect it.”
She sighs. I hate it when she sighs.
“I keep waking up every day hoping you’ve seen the light, and I keep going to bed realizing you haven’t. Honey, that man broke your heart so long ago and ever since you’ve made it your special mission to destroy love. This ‘job’ isn’t helping you move forward?—”
“Who said I want to move forward?” I huff.
“You don’t? You mean you prefer wallowing in your past and your misery?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“Unless you’re still in love with him?—”
“I am fucking not!”
“Then what’s wrong with moving forward?”
“Nothing is wrong with moving forward, Mom. I have moved forward. You’re the one that thinks I haven’t.” I’m just about done with this coffee that’s turned more bitter than usual, all of a sudden.
“But have you? If you had, you wouldn’t still hold love in contempt as if all people are cut from the same cloth.”
“All people are cut from the same cloth.”
“And you wouldn’t be using your job as proof that they are.”
“I don’t!” I set my cup down and try to catch my breath. I hate it when she brings up the past.
“Of course you are. You use all those desperate people who are already suspicious or who know their relationship is on its last legs and use you to prove it, then you turn around and declare everyone’s love life doomed. Do you think that’s normal?”
I rub my eyes with the heels of my palms and take slow, deep breaths. I hate these conversations. They always lead nowhere. I know I’m right and she can’t convince me otherwise. “And do you think it’s more normal to offer your heart out on a plate time and time again knowing the outcome?”
Mom sighs and I lean back in my chair.
“But you don’t. That’s what I’m trying to say. If you gave yourself a chance?—”
“And why haven’t you? Why haven’t you found someone if it’s so good and easy?”
“Not this again.”
“Yeah this. You want me to move on, yet you still haven’t moved on from my sperm donor.”
“Of course I have.”
“Then why aren’t you in a relationship, Mother?” I raise my voice.
“Because I’m asexual and aromantic,” she raises her voice to match my own and I bite my own tongue.
“Oh,” I say.
“Damn right, fucking ‘oh.’” Mom frowns.
Way to sound like a dickhead there.
“Why have you never told me then?”
“Because it’s none of your fucking beeswax, is it?”
“I deserved that.”
“And I didn’t want you to use me as an example of how to live your life. Because I know who and what I am now, but I also know who you are and you’re not like me. I know that. You want to be loved even if you refuse to accept it or see it.”
“Back to me again,” I huff. “I’m too tired to keep going around in circles. I’m going home.”
Mom doesn’t say anything, but stares at me as I pick up my coat and walk out the door feeling judged and frustrated with myself.
I hate having this conversation with her. It never leads anywhere, but at least she knows where I’m coming from. Anyone else reading the stupid blog doesn’t.
Maybe I need this “arrangement” with Felix after all. Maybe I need to show everyone another side of me, even if it’s fake. Maybe they need to see I’m not a hopeless bachelor who will never fall in love even if that’s exactly who I am and proud of it.
When I arrive home I get my phone out and send a quick text to Felix.
Hayworth:
Hey, when are you free for our first official fake date?
I haven’t even taken my shoes off when I get his reply.
Felix:
Let me check with Cheyenne. What were you thinking?
Hayworth:
I don’t know. You’re the one who suggested this arrangement.
Felix:
And you’re the “dating specialist.” You must have ideas.
Hayworth:
I do, but what do you want to get out of it?
I know for a fact it’s not sex. I know it’s to make the girls happy, but unless they come out on the date with us I don’t see why we can’t do whatever we want when we’re out.
Felix:
I don’t mind as long as you pick me up and drop me off. I just need the girls to believe we’re out on a date.
Hayworth:
So…hang out at mine.
Felix:
Jack Hayworth, get your mind out of the gutter.
Hayworth:
I can’t.
Felix:
And why not?
Hayworth:
Because it’s always in the gutter.
Felix:
*eye roll emoji* I’m not going to sleep with you.
I had to try. And probably will try again. That man is fire and I want to be burned by him, but only in the good way. Not the whole gut-wrenching, heartbreaking type of way. Is it too much to hope he wants the same?
Hayworth:
Now you’re hurting my feelings. Am I that ugly?
Felix:
The ugliest.
Hayworth:
Ouch.
I laugh as I fall onto my couch and cozy up with my phone in my hand.
Felix:
You’ll get over it. So…any other ideas? Don’t you want to go somewhere public so you can impress people with what an upstanding citizen you are?
Hayworth:
Ouch again.
Felix:
You’re so sensitive.
Hayworth:
Guilty as charged.
Felix:
So…
Hayworth:
Will you do anything?
Felix:
As long as it doesn’t include your bed, yes.
It’s like, the more he turns me down, the more I want him in my bed. Why is he playing so hard to get? And why does that make me hard?
Hayworth:
Playing hard to get, huh. I like it.
Felix:
You’re an idiot.
Hayworth:
You’re really hurting my feelings over here.
Felix:
I’m so sorry. That was my intention.
I laugh again. This guy can give as good as he gets. I wish he’d let me test that theory in person though.
Hayworth:
You’re so mean. I like it.
Felix:
You’re just saying that.
Hayworth:
Maybe I am.
Felix:
So what are we doing for our first official date?
Hayworth:
I don’t know. We can fuck some shit up.
Felix:
???
Hayworth:
We can do some Anti-Valentine Club shit.
Felix:
And how exactly does that help your reputation?
Hayworth:
Because I’ll be doing it with company?
Felix:
*eye roll emoji* thinnest argument there ever was.
Hayworth:
I’ll survive.
Felix:
No doubt.
Hayworth:
So? AVC shit: yay or nay?
Felix:
No. You stay on your best behavior mister. We’re meant to be rehabilitating your image.
Hayworth:
Fine.
Felix:
It’s a date.
Hayworth:
A fake date.
I have to remind him. The last thing I need is for him to forget and catch any sort of feelings.
Felix:
Fake date only.
Good. Glad we’re on the same page. Now the real work can begin. Convince his daughters we’re dating. That’s going to be a piece of cake.