5. Rule #5 Never reminisce with your mother when your crush is involved.
Amelia
Matis walks me all the way from the Métro to my front door.
“You coming in?” I ask as I put my key into the lock. This isn’t the first time he’s dropped me off, and it’s not uncommon for him to come in and have a nightcap with my dad before heading home.
“Not tonight,” he replies casually.
“Want me to have Lucien drive you home?”
He smiles in response. “No, thank you. Good night, Amelia.”
After unlocking my door, I turn to watch him walk away down the long, quiet street. My chest releases a breath of air as I feel him putting space between us.
I’m still riding a high from what he said to me on the train.
No one will ever be good enough for you.
How’s a girl supposed to move on after a line like that? And yes, I’m choosing to ignore the fact that Matis likely meant that in a fatherly way. I’m like a daughter to him, so yeah, I’m sure he does think no guy will ever be good enough for me. In the same way my dad does.
“That you, sweetie?” my mom calls for me from the living room.
“Yeah,” I reply as I shut the door and slip off my shoes, dropping my bag on the bench by the door.
I secretly love that she still waits up for me every night. My mom lost her mother when she was young, and I see that in the way she is with me. Always waiting up. Always answering when I call. Always there for me, no matter what, as if making up for something she never had.
And honestly, I could have moved out years ago, but why would I? I grew up in this house, and I love it. It’s big but not obnoxiously so. It feels like home, and there’s always someone here to talk to, so I’m never alone.
I don’t know how Matis can stand it.
Walking through the hall, I turn the corner into the living room where my mom is sitting in an upholstered chair, a tall lamp illuminating her in a soft, yellow glow. She sets her book on her lap and pulls off her glasses.
Julian looks more like my mom than I do. Although I got her blond hair and blue eyes, I have more of my dad’s features. Sharp cheekbones, almond-shaped eyes, a little divot in my chin.
“So how’d it go?” she asks as I drop into the oversized chair in the corner.
“How did what go?”
“Setting Matis up on that dating app. Your dad and I had a good laugh about that on the way home.”
I roll my eyes. “He didn’t even know how to swipe. Or what a catfish is.”
She laughs quietly, covering her mouth with her hand. “It won’t be easy, Melly. Not just with the technology but with the dating part too. For as long as I’ve known him, Matis has never once been interested in long-term relationships.”
“I know,” I reply on an exhale. “But he’s lonely. Can’t you tell?”
Solemnly, she nods. “That’s why we always invite him to everything. He’s family to us.”
A frigid, fearful thought enters my mind. “Do you think if he finds someone else, he’d stop coming around so much?”
I expect her to immediately reply no. That’s impossible. Matis will always be a part of our family.
Instead, to my dismay, she shrugs. “Sometimes it happens like that. I don’t think we’d lose him completely, but he would have a life and a family of his own.”
My stomach feels like solid iron, weighing heavily as I start chewing on the inside of my lips and picking at the hem of my dress.
“Sweetie, it’s okay,” my mom says, noticing my distress. “He’d be happy, though. Isn’t that what matters most?”
“Sure, yeah. Of course,” I say, quickly covering my reaction. If my mom ever knew my true feelings for our family friend, she’d be horrified.
“That is if you can even get him to commit to someone. I love Matis, but he’s always been a bit of a playboy.”
“Tell me about it,” I complain. “When I told him to put anything resembling commitment in his profile, you would have thought I suggested he kick a puppy.”
My mom throws her head back and laughs. We both get a fit of the giggles, and once she recovers, she rests her chin on her fist. “You know…” she starts with a wistful look in her eyes. “He tried to seduce me once.”
“Mom!” I shout, covering my face.
“Before you were born, of course. I almost went with him too.”
“Oh my God, stop,” I moan as I slide down the chair as if I could make it swallow me whole.
“He was so handsome and so charming. But your father had a fit. He had to scoop me up and practically carry me out of there.”
“Are you done?”
She laughs, and a thought instantly crosses my mind.
Opening my eyes, I sit up quickly. “You didn’t…did you?”
“Amelia.”
“Mom, please tell me you didn’t!”
“That is none of your business.”
Oh, but it is. The one thing that might actually squash my crush on Matis forever is the knowledge that my mother has ever—full-body cringe—slept with him.
“I’m only teasing you,” she jokes. “Your father is the only man for me.”
Now that I believe. My parents have been disgustingly in love my entire life, regardless of their thirty-five-year age difference.
They’re borderline obsessed with each other.
And maybe that’s the problem with my dating life.
My dad set the bar so freaking high, no one could ever attempt to reach it.
He’s always treated my mom like a queen.
And I know that if he goes first, she’ll never look at another man again.
I want to know love like that so badly. There’s only ever been one person I could imagine myself committing to like that, and it just happens to be the one person I can never have.
“So what about you, sweetie?” she asks, and I glance up with raised brows and wide eyes. Is she really asking this? About me and Matis?
“Me? You mean have I ever slept with…”
“No!” she replies with alarm. “I meant how is your dating life going? Matis agreed to help you find the right guy too, didn’t he?”
“Oh.” I shake my head, trying to rid myself of the thought that my mom would so casually ask if I’ve slept with Matis, like he’s a ride at Disneyland. “Well…to be honest, not so good. That old grump made me swipe left on every single guy we looked at.”
A smile stretches across her face. “He’s protective of you.”
“Yeah, maybe a little too protective. If he wants me to date someone, he’ll have to let me actually talk to them.”
“He just has high standards for you. You always were his favorite.”
Those words make me melt a little. And maybe this is what I’ll have to settle for, being special to him. He loves me, just not in the way I want. I can accept that, can’t I?
Just then, my phone buzzes. Picking it up, I see a text from him on the screen.
Matis: Now what?
“Did you get a match?” my mom asks when she sees me smiling at my phone.
“No,” I reply, flipping it for her to see. “But he did. And now he needs my help in responding. I thought he was good at this part.” Standing up, I head over to hug my mom before going to bed. “I better go help him. Night, Mom.”
“Night, sweetie. Good luck.” There’s humor in her voice as I make my way to my room.
The nice thing about living with my parents in this big house is that I have almost half of it to myself. Julian and I had the entire second floor as kids. It includes three bedrooms and a den that has now turned into my own private suite.
As I head up the stairs, I type out my response to Matis.
Amelia: Now you message her.
Matis: Message her what?
With a laugh, I shake my head. It’s really not that hard.
Amelia: Introduce yourself.
Matis: Okay how about this? Hi. Your picture caught my eye. You are so sexy I’d love to kiss that smile off your face.
My jaw drops as I collapse onto my bed.
Amelia: Matis!
Matis: Too much?
Amelia: YES.
Matis: I was trying to be romantic and seductive.
Amelia: You’re trying to date her, not seduce her.
Matis: Then tell me what to say. I’m bad at this.
I type and delete and type and delete about twenty different responses. Finally, I just drop my phone on the bed and stare at the ceiling. This might be harder than I thought. I want Matis to be himself, but I’m also trying to get him to actually date someone worthwhile.
Amelia: Okay fine. Try this. Bonjour. Your profile caught my eye. I’m new to this app, but you seem like someone I’d like to get to know more.
He reads my text but doesn’t answer right away. Finally, the bubbles pop up before the message.
Matis: Okay, sent.
I smile sadly at the screen. Some lucky bitch somewhere in Paris is going to read this message and think she’s either won the lottery or is being catfished. She has no idea just how good she’s got it.
Matis: You haven’t swiped right on any of those boys without me, have you?
I chuckle as I move to my side, propping my head up on my arm.
Amelia: No. I’ve been talking to my mom since you dropped me off. She was sharing some enlightening stories about you…trying to seduce her. It was deeply unsettling.
Matis: I try to seduce everyone.
Not me.
But I won’t type that part.
Matis: Oh, the woman in blue answered back.
Amelia: What did she say?
Matis: I’d like to get to know you too! Tell me about yourself. Do you live in Paris?
Amelia: This is the easy part. Now you just tell her about yourself.
Matis: This feels so stiff. I don’t like it.
Amelia: You’re just not used to it. What did you say?
Matis: I said yes.
With a laugh, I climb from the bed and go toward the bathroom to get ready for bed. As I walk, grabbing a pair of underwear from the drawer, I type my response.
Amelia: That’s it?
Matis: She asked if I live in Paris, and I said yes. Should I ask her out now?
Amelia: No. Tell her you grew up here. Then ask her where she’s from. Ask her what she does for a living. Or where her favorite spot in the city is. Just get to know her.
He doesn’t respond as I start the shower and strip out of my clothes. Stepping into the large claw-foot tub, I bring my phone with me. I keep an eye on it as I lather my hair and wait for his text.
But instead of texting, it starts to ring.
I swipe the call and put it on speaker. “Hey.”
“Hey. What’s that sound? Are you in the shower?” he asks, hearing the water running in the background.
“Yes. What’s up?”
He clears his throat, hesitating with his response. “She keeps asking me questions.”
“You really are bad at this, aren’t you?” My voice is laced with humor, and I hear him chuckling through the line.
“I’m hopeless.”
“Okay, what did she ask?”
“She asked what I do for a living. Should I tell her about the club, or do you think that will scare her away?”
“Hmm…” I think for a moment as I rinse the shampoo from my hair. “Tell her you’re retired. Don’t lead with the sex club.”
“Okay, I told her.”
“Ask her something in return. You should finish every line with a question, so she knows you’re really interested in her.”
“You’re very good at this,” he says.
I hear him typing as I squirt conditioner in my hand and slide it through my short strands.
“Yeah, too bad I don’t have any matches of my own to put these good skills to use.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be on dating apps, Trouble,” he mumbles casually. I hear him doing something in the background, like pouring himself a drink or fixing something to eat.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask. “How else am I supposed to find dates?”
This makes him laugh. “Believe it or not, but we used to find dates all the time without apps. Well, not me. I found lovers. But you know what I mean.”
“Okay, you’re no help.”
“I’m only saying,” he replies through his laughter. “A man should have to work for you. This makes it too easy.”
“That’s sweet, but I’m still single. I have to meet men somewhere.”
He lets out a disgruntled sound, making me smile. He acts as if he truly hates the idea of me dating at all, but he’s the one who proposed this arrangement. If Matis doesn’t want me with anyone, then what does he want? For me to be alone for the rest of my life? How is that fair?
“How is the conversation going with the lady in blue?” I ask to change the subject.
“Very good,” he says. “We have been chatting, and I haven’t tried to sleep with her yet. You are a very good teacher.”
Letting out a sad laugh, I run soap slowly over my body as I realize all I truly did was tell Matis to ask her questions. I’m hardly a teacher.
“Well, keep it up. After a few days of chatting, you can ask her out.”
“It sounds so long,” he complains.
“Well, you’re looking for someone to spend the rest of your life with, remember? If a few days sound grueling, I don’t think they’re the right one for you.”
“Good point. I will be patient.”
“Good,” I reply as I turn the water off.
He grows silent. I wonder if he’s picturing me naked. And if he is…does the thought disgust him or turn him on?
You’re dreaming, Amelia.
He clears his throat again. “Get some sleep now. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
It’s as if someone lays a blanket of sadness over my shoulders. The thought of saying goodbye to him, of knowing he’ll be chatting with someone else hurts. But that’s all the more reason to do this. To move on.
“Good night, old man,” I say, standing naked and dripping in the shower as I hold my phone in my hand.
His voice is like soothing silk, my own security blanket as he softly replies through the phone line. “Good night, Trouble.”