19. Hayworth
NINETEEN
HAYWORTH
“How’s the chicken?”
“Yes,” I answer and tap my phone to wake it up but there are no notifications.
“What’s wrong?” Mom asks.
“Uh-huh. Yeah.” I nod and take a bite of dinner, my eyes peeled to the screen as if I can will it to come to life by sheer persistence alone.
“I’m thinking I should streak across town so I can show everyone what wonderful boobs I’ve got,” Mom says.
I glance at her and smile. “Sounds good!”
“Oh for crying out loud, Hayworth! Are you going to focus on our dinner or are you going to keep playing with that thing as if it’s your pee-pee?”
I put my fork down and raise my eyebrows at Mom. “Do you really think that’s how men play with their pee-pees because if it is it’s no wonder my sperm donor knocked you up. What did he say? Come play ping pong with my balls?”
Mom throws her napkin at me and snorts. “Oh grow up, Hay.”
“It’s physically impossible. You stunted my growth when you referred to my penis as my pee-pee. I’m now regressing into a child because of you. I hope you’re happy.”
“Oh trust me, baby, you didn’t need me to start regressing. You’re doing a damn good job all on your own.”
“Love you too, Mom.” I take another bite of dinner and sneak a glance at my phone but it remains as dead as anything.
Why hasn’t he texted? What’s taking him so long? Has he changed his mind about our thing? Or maybe he didn’t enjoy our night together? Maybe I did something wrong that offended him or put him off?
“Can you tell me what’s so important that can’t wait until we’re done with dinner?”
I sit back and turn my attention to Mom.
“Nothing. It’s okay,” I say.
“But it’s not. You keep looking at that thing as if you expect it to grow vines.” She glances at my phone with a look of disgust and pushes a strand of her purple hair back.
I instinctively cover my phone with my hand and lean closer to whisper, “Ewww. Now my pee-pee is growing vines? That’s disgusting.”
Mom sighs and puts her fork down. “Heavens help me before I kill my own flesh and blood.”
I straighten my expression, push myself closer to her and study her face, reaching for her hand. “What’s wrong Mom? You’re starting to sound…murderous.”
Mom slaps my hand away and I crack up at her frustration. “You keep that up and there will be blood tonight.”
I settle back in my chair in front of my chicken cacciatore and take a sip of my white wine when my phone flashes and I almost choke. But it’s not him. Just a stupid notification from an app I don’t even use anymore.
“Okay you need to tell me what the hell is wrong with you because you’re really starting to piss me off now.”
I turn my phone upside down and pick up my wine again even though my throat is still not clear from the near-choking.
“It’s nothing. It’s work.”
Mom hovers her own glass in front of her lips and scoffs. “Are you sure? You’ve never been this interested in work before.”
I roll my eyes and take a sip. “What else could it be? It’s not like I have a life.”
“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “There was an article about you last night.”
“Really, Mom? We’re calling anything Maplewood Matters ‘an article’ now? What’s next? Are we calling the dump I’m about to push out a pot of gold now?”
Mom grimaces but my obscenity doesn’t deter her. “Not sure anything that comes out of you is gold. But apparently you and an unidentified man caused quite the stir at the Inn last night.”
I huff. “I wouldn’t call it a stir. It was barely a thing.”
“But it was. A thing, I mean.”
“It was nothing.”
Mom nods for a moment and takes another sip before she asks: “So you and this man didn’t storm out shouting things like we’re breaking up and it’s over?”
Wow, now Maplewood Matter embellishes, huh? I don’t know what else I expected. It’s not like it’s the first time. But it does make me wonder for the hundredth time, who the fuck is behind this drivel.
“Of course not.”
“So you weren’t there with a man last night?”
I take a small breath and hide my face by tipping my glass and downing its contents.
“I was. But it was nothing. It was?—”
“Work?”
After the revelation of last night with Felix it felt wrong to think of him as work even though that’s exactly what he was. Work with benefits. But I’m pretty sure if I said this to Mom she’d have a field day and I wasn’t in the business of making my mom happy with my love life.
“Yeah. Work.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course, Mom. What else could it be?”
“I don’t know. A relationship you’re hiding from me or something?”
I scoff at the mere suggestion and put my glass down. “No, Mom. I’m not in a secret relationship. It’s just work. I’m fake dating a guy to make his daughters happy. That’s all.”
Mom stares at me and doesn’t say anything for long moments that feel like centuries. “That’s a first.”
“Tell me about it.”
“So…you’re fake dating for his daughters’ benefit?”
“Yeah.”
“And how does causing a ruckus at the Red Clover Inn help?”
“It doesn’t. What we do in between pick-ups and drop-offs is fair game.”
Mom narrows her eyes, sharpening her gaze. “Isn’t a dad supposed to protect his daughters from men like you?”
“Hey! What is that supposed to mean?”
She shrugs. “What do you think it means? You’re the kind of guy that doesn’t stick around?—”
“It’s just fake dating?—”
“Yeah, yeah. That’s even worse. You’re fake dating for what? A month? A couple months? And then what? You drop off the face of the earth and they’re left wondering what happened to the man that made their dad happy.”
“You’re overthinking it, Mom.”
“Maybe you’re u nder thinking it,” she suggests and I stare at her.
She does have a point. I don’t know how any of what I’m doing with Felix—if I’m still doing it—helps his girls, but I’m sure he knows his daughters and his reasons for doing this better than I do.
Besides, as far as they’re concerned it’s just an innocent thing. Their dad and I go out to dinner and make each other laugh. How attached to the idea of me could they possibly get?
Before I can respond, my phone bloops and a text notification pops up. I don’t think I’ve ever picked up my phone and unlocked it faster.
Felix:
How does tomorrow night sound?
Hayworth:
I can’t wait.
“Or maybe…this thing isn’t so fake?” Mom says and it takes me a moment before I listen but when I do, I look up. “What do you mean?”
She smirks and shakes her head. “Nothing. Nothing. I’m sure you know what you’re doing.”
“Of course,” I say.
I’m having a good time and helping a guy make his children happy in the most unconventional way ever. There’s nothing wrong with that. Is there?