13. The Dating Game
“Carla,we have to talk to her,” Matt told his wife. “We—you—can’t keep talking to him like this. He thinks he’s talking to the mother of his child he’s never even met!”
Carla sighed and closed the laptop. “You’re right. I know. You’re completely right. We just have to figure out how to bring up the subject with her…”
“Carla, I think in this particular instance, being straightforward and honest is your best option.”
“But then she’ll ask me how I know about Aiden!”
“And you’ll tell her exactly what you did—and that you had her best interest at heart.” Matt rolled his eyes. “The way I see it, you don’t have many options. This is their lives we’re talking about—their kid. It isn’t your place to be involved at all, but since you’ve managed to put yourself right in the middle, yet again, you’ve got to tell her everything.”
Carla nodded her agreement, dreading the conversation with Gia that would inevitably follow. Matt grabbed her cell phone from the nightstand, tossing it toward her. It landed on the bed beside Carla, and she reached for it, groaning.
“Can’t this wait until tomorrow? We’re all a little buzzed, still. Let’s just shut the computer down and deal with this in the morning when we are thinking clearly,” Carla begged.
“Do you promise you’ll call or go over there first thing in the morning?”
“I promise.”
“Fine. Go to bed,” Matt ordered.
Carla reached for the laptop. “But I just want to?—”
“NOW!”
Carla sighed. “Fine,” she said. “Will you tuck me in, Matty?” she added softly, moving her lips into the pout she knew he couldn’t resist.
“Yes… but I’m taking the computer out of here when I leave.” He chuckled. “You can’t be trusted with technology—or anyone’s personal life, for that matter!”
Carla scrunched up her nose, acting offended, but wiggled her way to the top of the bed as Matt pulled the covers down and lifted them over her.
“Goodnight, you little chaos bringer, you. Tomorrow’s another day. You can wreak more havoc then.”
“I love you, Matty. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry to me.” He raised his hands in a show of impartiality. “Tell it to the judge,” he gestured to the house next door—Gia’s house. “I love you, too.” Matt gave her a peck on the forehead and walked to the door, flipping the light off on his way out. He was almost into the hallway when he realized he was empty-handed, turned on his heel, and returned to Carla’s bedside.
“Almost forgot,” he said, grabbing the still-closed laptop and tucking it under his arm before walking out again.
“You have no faith in me, Mr. Matty.”
“After your shenanigans tonight, nope! Sweet dreams, princess.”
With that, Matt left. He walked into the living room, stopping momentarily to glance at the computer and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I wonder,” he said aloud to himself. “No, I shouldn’t,” he answered his own question.
He wouldn’t get involved. Carla had done enough already. Matt set the computer on the coffee table, moving into the kitchen, where he poured another drink before returning and sitting on the couch.
Matt turned on the TV and began channel surfing, searching for something to watch.
“Boring, lame, stupid,” he muttered as he flipped through channel after channel of shows that did nothing to spark his interest. Then, his gaze shifted again to the computer resting on the table before him.
He had an idea. It didn’t involve Gia—at least not entirely—so he didn’t think it would lead to any more trouble than Carla and he were already in. It would just help them get a better handle on who Ben was and, perhaps, his intentions for being back in the area—just a little detective work. No harm, no foul.
Matt opened the laptop computer, which remained logged into “Gia’s” Only Gardeners account. No new messages since the last, and he had vowed he wouldn’t do anything further under the guise of Gia, so he logged out, then moved the cursor to the “New Account” screen and got to work creating a phony profile using stock photos of a pretty female in a vegetable garden. It’s incredible how easy it is to find what you need when you need it on the internet these days, he thought.
Matt guessed what he was doing fell under the heading of “catfishing” and that the profile would probably be flagged and deleted by the admins relatively soon—but he didn’t need much time. From memory, he set the search parameters on the phony profile to the local area and entered the information he recalled from Ben’s profile, hoping it would pull him up without too much hassle. Sure enough, Ben’s image appeared on his screen after swiping left on several profiles. Fortunately, Only Gardeners wasn’t exactly the most popular dating site out there, which made it significantly easier to find!
Boom. Immediate right swipe. “We’re in business,” he said aloud. “Now… let’s just wait and see if Mr. Benjamin is interested in getting to know, uh—” Matt glanced at the top of “his” profile before finishing his sentence with his chosen name, “Marianna.” He leaned back and rested his feet on the coffee table, his arms behind his head. Before long, his eyelids were heavy, and his head began to nod to one side until he began to snore.
“MATT!” The voice rang in his ears, waking Matt up from a deep sleep. His eyes shot open in shock and confusion. He saw Carla standing beside him, arms resting on her hips. Oh no, he thought. Her angry pose. What’d I do? Carla gestured at the computer on the coffee table with wild hands.
“Who, exactly, is MARIANNA? Are you on a dating site?!” Carla’s nostrils flared angrily, and her eyebrows were raised, arching downward, making her face look menacing.
“What are you talking—oooh!” As his memory slowly returned to him, he began to chuckle. Carla thought he was browsing Only Gardeners for himself, he realized.
“Why are you laughing? What could you possibly be laughing about at a time like this, when our marriage is shaking precariously on its last legs, and you’re looking for someone to take my place!” Carla’s hands moved frantically, and it only upset her more to see the calm, bemused look on Matt’s face. “What?!” she roared.
“You, my love, are being crazy. I’m Marianna. Marianna is me.” A look of confusion took hold of Carla’s facial expression until it was suddenly replaced by one of understanding.
“Matt! You can’t perform covert operations without me! What the hell!?”
“You were asleep!”
“Because you told me I had to!”
“I got bored,” Matt said. “And I felt like I could get some information that may be helpful—but then I fell asleep, I guess—until you so rudely awakened me with accusations of infidelity. I can’t even handle one woman! Why on earth would I want another?” He scoffed at Carla, who returned the look by sticking out her tongue. They stared at each other before Matt finally broke the silence.
“Joint covert operations, then?”
Carla nodded, feeling slightly silly about how she had acted—once again.
“But first, breakfast. My treat!”
“You’re cooking?” Matt glanced at Carla incredulously, surprised she was offering to prepare a meal of her own free will.
“Heck no. The diner down the street delivers now. We can see if Ben responded to your swipe while we wait for it to arrive, then devise a plan! I need eggs with corned beef hash and a massive cup of coffee before my brain will work.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be calling Gia to talk ‘first thing this morning’?”
“Hash. Eggs. Coffee. No coffee, no talky. Anyway, she doesn’t have the kids this morning—she will want to get some extra sleep time in.”
“Whatever you say. Call in the order.” He waved a hand toward Carla’s cell phone and leaned back against the couch, returning to the position he had been in before he was so rudely interrupted. “We ride at dawn!”
“What? Why are you so weird?” Carla asked, glancing at him.
“I don’t know. You seem to like it,” Matt said with a shrug as he wrapped an arm around Carla’s waist and pulled her close.