Cupid and Cupcakes

Chapter 1

Chapter One

The pink cardboard box on my counter promised sweet distraction. Bribery, courtesy of Jane—three cupcakes for thirty minutes on a dating app.

I grabbed the red velvet cupcake and sat, twisting on my pink leather swivel stool, peeling down the cupcake wrapper and licking red frosting from my fingertips. Sugar melted on my tongue, whispering that this was totally worth the sacrifice.

I picked up my phone and mentally prepared myself for the upcoming photoshopped abs and creepy innuendo taglines.

Bachelor #1— Caught an enormous fish…nice.

Swipe.

Bachelor #2— Oh! What a cute dog. I clicked through a few pictures, desperately searching for more of the fuzzy white-and-brown puppy. After a few more pics, including one with him in a full Darth Vader costume, it was easy to see I was far more interested in spending time with the dog than him.

Swipe.

Why wouldn’t Jane and Mom accept that I was done dating?

Matchmaking for someone else, though…that was the best. The only problem was the dismal number of single friends I had .

Bachelor #3— Rocking some dangerously short gym shorts and a tank top lifted to show some very nice abs. “Looking for a hottie with a rockin’ gym body.”

I finished my cupcake. Call me crazy, but I don’t think we would “work out”—pun intended. I was more comfort curves than chiseled lines.

Swipe.

It would be another five minutes before Leo’s Pasta got here. I brushed the cupcake crumbs from the counter and my silk Elvis pajama pants, right onto the floor for Future Me to worry about. I hopped off the stool and walked the six whole steps to the middle of the living room to my green mid-century modern couch. My apartment in downtown Boise, Idaho, lacked extra square footage, but I made up for it with my fifties flair. I plopped down on the couch and my phone vibrated with an incoming text.

Jane: Any winners yet???

If I’d have known she would be so insistent on double-dating, I would have left her single. I cringed. Not that the setup had been all for Jane’s benefit… When Finn’s mother had come into the store asking about setting me up with her son, I knew she needed to be pointed in a different direction—Jane’s direction.

Emma: Um… Maybe?

Jane: Did you even look at it for more than 5 minutes?

Emma: You know I was so distracted. I actually spent 35. =P

Jane: Liar.

I shrugged. Worth a shot.

Jane: I mean it! Emma, those cupcakes were for bribery only!! If you don’t spend 30 minutes looking for a date, then you will pay me back. I expect you to interact with at least five guys…

Jane: Don’t make me come over there.

Jane lived in an apartment about fifteen minutes away, so it wasn’t an idle threat. She’d face the spring rain without a second thought.

I leaned my head back onto the cushion and closed my eyes .

I could admit it. “The problem” might very well be me.

I was a bit eccentric. I glanced over at my teal blue fridge and pink-suitcase vinyl player. The “normal life” just didn’t appeal to me. I’d chosen to forgo college despite scholarships, my obsession with the fifties and old movies was borderline crazy, and I’m pretty sure my type of man went extinct along with rotary phones. I wanted a black and white movie type of romance with old-fashioned manners, big romantic gestures, and a serenade or two.

It was a bit unusual for a twenty-two-year-old woman, but it wasn’t entirely my fault. Like most new adults with issues, I blamed my mother.

In the fifth grade, Brad and I had been soul mates. I even had a notebook where I practiced my signature with my future last name. Then, I caught him sharing his Gatorade and his lips with my best friend Savannah.

He was my first heartbreak.

That night, Mom sat next to me on the couch while we ate ice cream and watched black and white movies full of men performing grand romantic gestures. That night a tradition was born: Cary Grant movie dates, either alone or with mom, after each lousy boyfriend. And there were plenty of lousy boyfriends.

Maybe I was a novelty—fun at first, but the charm wore off fast.

I reached over the arm of the couch to the basket of blankets and pulled off the top one.

My relationships all started great, but then it would start to shift with remarks about my style, movie choice, my love of sweets, and my “unique” personality. I found myself tempted to shift. To change so they might want to stay. After my last boyfriend, I decided I was done. It was too hard to try to choose between loving me or being with a man… I chose me.

My phone vibrated.

Jane: I’m coming over if you haven’t texted in five minutes with a name and profile pic you are considering .

I refocused on the app and scrolled mindlessly through the singles within a twenty-mile radius, willing the clock to move faster.

I had no desire to date. Playing Cupid was my new life mission, but I would scroll a few minutes for cupcakes.

An ad popped up and covered Bachelor #4 and his cat, Sprinkles. It was advertising local events for singles that were fifty and older. Well, if that was where my man was, that would be discouraging.

I checked the clock and decided time counted as double when on a dating app. I took a screenshot and zoomed in around the cat Sprinkles.

Emma: So far, this one is the most promising. =)

A knock sounded at the door.

Leo’s was early!

I grabbed my purse hanging next to my jacket and keys underneath the black and white movie poster of My Favorite Wife. I looked up at Cary Grant kissing Irene Dunn. If people could wish on a star, then a Cary Grant picture should count as the same thing, right?

Cary Grant light, Cary Grant bright, I wish I may, I wish I might have my own Cary Grant tonight. I chuckled at my wit.

There was an aggressive knock at the door.

Maybe they were fast because I was becoming a regular. I flinched. Was that good or bad?

Good because it was fast…but bad that an Italian restaurant knew me well enough to ask if I wanted my usual and the delivery guy knew my name. Meh.

My mouth watered at the thought of their breadsticks. I fished my wallet from my purse and swung the door open.

I stepped back.

Not Leo’s.

Mom stood on the doorstep with her graying shoulder-length hair, dark cardigan, and tan slacks. She eyed my stained pj’s and greasy hair pulled into a ponytail, her lips pulled down into a frown.

“Mom?” I was sure she had plans tonight with Betty and the other Bunco ladies. “Why are you here?”

She stepped into the apartment. “Now, is that any way to greet your mother?” She leaned in for a hug and a not too subtle sniff.

“Mom… I shower regularly. It’s Saturday. Pj’s are an all-day requirement.” I stepped back, giving mom room to step into my apartment.

“I was thinking we could go out tonight.” Mom could not stand my current weekend routine or lack thereof. I could admit it, I’d been in a funk, but it was because I hadn’t found my next Cupid project. Romance paints the world in bright colors, and finding that light for others made me happy.

I walked toward the kitchen. “I thought you had plans tonight?”

“I thought we could have plans. Betty’s son is working at the new pizza place in Indian Creek Plaza. How about we go there?”

“Really?” My face pulled down in a frown. “Brett? Didn’t he just graduate?” I grimaced, thinking about his ungodly height and love of Pokémon.

“Oh, he’s not that bad. He’s better than the guys you have been dating.” She placed her hands on her hips.

“Mom, I graduated four years ago. I’m not interested in Brett, and I’m not sure he’s even legal.” I set my wallet down on the counter and opened the pink box, showing her the last two cupcakes inside. This was the fastest way to end this conversation. My sugar addiction came straight from my mama.

“Well, I don’t see you with any other options.” She looked tired. I wondered if they had her working double shifts again at the packaging factory. I didn’t remember my dad enough to miss him, but I wished he had stuck around, if only so mom didn’t have to work so hard .

“And since I have sworn off dating entirely, that will continue.” I walked back to Mom and held out the cupcake bribe.

Mom sighed, but grabbed the pink cupcake with sprinkles. “It’s time to put yourself out there again.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re one to talk.”

My mother had been single for twenty years, and I didn’t see her lining up to get in the dating ring.

She huffed and took a small bite out of her cupcake. “We have been over this. It’s different. My life is plenty full and busy with you kiddos.”

The problem was, her little kiddos had grown up. Caleb was married, living in Utah and building his MLM empire. Ivy was married with a baby and another one on the way. And I adored my independence. Mom was left working jobs to pay off past debt, sleeping in a bigger house than she needed, and hoping one of her kids would show an inclination of needing her help.

Her whole life was taking care of us, but what would she do if she was free to do anything?

“There are good guys out there.” She took a bite of the cupcake and smiled. “But no good comes from staying home in your pj’s all the time.” She gestured to my Elvis pants.

“Something very good is coming from staying in my pj’s. It’s a man, an Italian man,” I raised my eyebrows appreciatively, “and he is bringing breadsticks.” I whispered.

Mom rolled her eyes and swatted my arm as I chuckled.

I bumped into her with my shoulder. “I appreciate it, but it’s different, dating now. The guys are different.” We walked over to the pink stools. “I’m different.”

Mom sat and took a small bite of her cupcake.

“Old-fashioned manners are as extinct as dinosaurs.”

She swiveled to face me. “Emma Ann Woods, you better not be comparing me to dinosaurs!”

I chuckled and rolled my eyes. “You know what I mean.”

There was a knock at the door .

I tipped my head to mom. “I have Roman Holiday ready to play, and the best Italian food.” Based on the bags under Mom’s eyes, she needed a movie night more than a night out anyway. “Want to watch a movie with me?”

Her shoulders relaxed, giving up the fight. “Fine.”

I smiled. Mom always was more bark than bite.

I opened the door.

“Delivery from Leo’s.” Peter was an older man that had kind eyes, gray hair, and a wide smile. He had brought my orders the last few months, and it was always wonderful to see him. He held up a large sack filled with pasta, breadsticks, and—as usual—dessert.

“Hey, Peter, come on in.” I held the door open as he nodded and stepped into the apartment, and I grabbed some cash for a tip from my wallet. “You got another date with Cary Grant tonight?” He nodded to the TV.

“Cary Grant dates are the best!” Technically, it was Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn, but close enough. I counted out the cash and handed it to him.

Noticing Mom, he tipped his head, “Evening, ma’am.”

She nodded. “Good evening.”

Peter turned to leave. “Have a good night, Emma, and enjoy your Cary Grant.” He winked.

“Oh, I will. Thanks for the food. Drive safe.” I held the door for him.

I watched as he hopped down the steps. For an older man, he still had plenty of pep in his step. It was too bad Peter was married and a little too old—otherwise I would have tried to set him up with Mom. He was sweet and full of old-fashioned charm.

I watched him leave.

Wait.

That’s it! I closed the door and turned back toward the kitchen, looking at the white plastic bag of food like it held answers to the universe.

That was who I should set up next—Mom !

It would be perfect.

I had loved setting up friends and coworkers, but Mom… Mom would be amazing. It was like I had been training my whole life to pull off this magical event.

What would it be like to have her be spoiled? To have someone sweep her off her feet and make her life easier? I envisioned some silver-haired man in a Corvette driving her through France. I resisted the urge to clap and squeal, but the shoulder shimmy couldn’t be contained.

She raised her eyebrow. “Are you that excited for Leo’s?”

We moved to the kitchen and I set the bag on the counter. I opened the cupboard next to the sink, grabbed out two glass plates, and started loading them up with the steaming cheese ravioli and breadsticks. “Are you not?” I scoffed.

She rolled her eyes and grabbed a few dishes from the sink and started rinsing them off to put in the dishwasher. She couldn’t help it. If she was awake, she felt like she should be helping.

But who was helping her?

“Mom, remember, no cleaning.”

“Oh, it was just a few dishes.” Mom shrugged me off.

“A few dishes that I will clean. Later.” I eyed her until she stopped.

“Oh fine. It’s not a big deal.” She huffed.

I wouldn’t mind the help from time to time. The problem was, from sunup to sundown, she couldn’t stop working. I wanted her to relax. “Let’s watch the movie.”

I nodded to her plate. She picked it up and followed me to the couch. I pushed play on Roman Holiday and the instrumental intro came to life.

“I love this one.” Mom was smiling and leaning toward me as the opening credits played.

“Same.” Audrey Hepburn played a princess on the run who fell for an undercover journalist .

I could picture it now, except with Mom in place of Audrey.

Mom, driving through Rome, being swept off her feet in a big romantic gesture. I drummed my fingers on my leg.

What had that ad said? Something about fifty plus… Mom had just turned fifty-one.

She wouldn’t like it at first, but I doubted she would complain in the long run.

I grabbed my phone and found the ad. It took me to a website called “Kismet Silvers.” I peeked over at Mom to see her already sinking deeper into the cushions. I wondered if she’d make it twenty minutes before she fell asleep.

My screen filled with a picture of an older couple lying on a sunny beach in lounge chairs, toasting fruity drinks.

Yep. This was perfect!

I had bugged her about dating before, but she always said she didn’t have time, or didn’t want the drama. I was giddy at the thought of my mom in love.

I scrolled the page. Events were held at The Brick House, newly remodeled. You signed up for an account and could purchase tickets to local events for other “Silver Singles.” I adjusted so my phone was faced away from Mom. This would be way easier than trying to set her up on dates secretly. This could work.

I clicked on the calendar.

The events included food, meet and greets, book clubs, dances, and vintage movie days.

She would never do this on her own. I chewed my lip.

I glanced sideways at Mom, who was seconds from sleep. My finger hovered over the bright red “Join Now” button at the bottom of the mobile page. I clicked it.

A screen popped up.

“Please be aware this is for fifty plus only. By clicking accept, you acknowledge you are aware of these rules and you are over fifty.”

If anyone deserved a happily ever after, it was Mom, and I would do anything to get it for her.

Accept.