Kismetology

by Jaimie Admans

  Mum and Ron are getting up to leave before I realise it. Shit! I have to make it home before Mum does, or she’s going to know. I nearly fall off the bar stool. I throw the menu back to the bartender, and run as fast as one can while wearing half a tent and trying to look inconspicuous.

  I jump in my car, and almost immediately get stuck in traffic. Typical. Just my luck. I can only hope that Mum and Ron are taking the same route home so they’re stuck in the same traffic behind me.

  Eventually I burst in our front door, tearing my coat and scarf off as I go. I’m panting for breath, and praying that Mum didn’t take a shortcut.

  "What the hell happened to you?" Dan asks.

  "I…" Pant. "Lost track…" Gasp. "Lost track of time," I say, finally. "I bet Mum is right behind me."

  Dan laughs. "You can relax, sweetie. Your mum just called. She said that she’s going home with Ron, and could you go over to her place to feed Pussy and give Baby his supper?"

  "You’re kidding me?"

  He shakes his head.

  "She’s going home with the guy?"

  Dan nods.

  "But," I say incredulously. "I knew he was great, but I didn’t think he was that great. I mean, I didn’t want her to go to bed with him on the first date."

  "You don’t know that’s what they’re doing."

  "Feed Baby his supper? How late does she expect to be back, Dan? At midnight? After a few hours of hot sex?"

  Dan laughs. "I think you should calm down."

  "Oh god." A thought suddenly hits me. "What if he’s a one night stand? What if she’s just going to sleep with him then leave and never see him again? Oh my god. How am I ever going to face him again at the store? What if he thinks I’m a pimp? Oh god. I am a pimp. I am, aren’t I, Dan? I’m a pimp. I’ve just prostituted a great guy out for one night of sex and that’s it. I’m a pimp." I sink down on the sofa resignedly and ponder my career change. From nail technician to pimp. I have to admit I didn’t see that one coming.

  "You’re not a pimp, Mac. Maybe she’s just gone to see his collection of coins or something equally enthralling."

  "Yeah. Or his collection of condoms."

  "If they use one."

  "Dan!"

  He holds his hands up. "Sorry," he says. "But you have to think about these things."

  "No, you don’t."

  CHAPTER 31

  The next morning, I still haven’t heard from Mum, so I go over to her place to feed Baby and Pussy their breakfasts as well. But I refuse to sit at the table and feed it to Baby from a fork like Mum does. I unearth a bowl and tip dog meat in to it. Baby looks up at me like I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I actually have lost my mind, because the next thing I know I’m crouching on the floor, picking out meaty chunks with a fork and feeding them to the dog. I am insane.

  I’m actually a little worried about Mum. I mean, she’s not back yet and no one has heard from her since she phoned Dan last night. What if Ron is an axe murderer? Although I can admit that is a little unlikely. I mean, wouldn’t I have noticed? I’ve seen the man every week for the past two years, wouldn’t I have been able to tell if he had axe murderer stamped on his forehead? Besides, axe murderers don’t help little old ladies reach products on the higher shelves, do they?

  Okay then, what if he’s a serial rapist? Is that better or worse? What if Mum’s spent the night in the police station, trying to identify him? Is that better than sleeping with him on the first date?

  I’m going to kill Mum when I see her. Or hand her over to a real axe murderer. Not that I actually know one, of course, but if I did, he’d be getting a new victim right about now. Doesn’t she realise that you can’t just go home with strange men? You have to phone and tell someone where you are and that you’re still breathing and haven’t been kidnapped as part of some weird science experiment. Or worse.

  "Mackenzie?" Mum calls as she comes in the door.

  "And where the hell have you been?" I ask. I’m leaning against the wall, Baby in my arms, tapping my foot impatiently. I realise that I am the epitome of a pissed off but worried mother, and quickly stand up straight and put the dog on the floor. I might be acting like a mother, but I don’t want to become mine.

  "You’ve been out all night," I say, accusingly. Of course she’s been out all night. It’s just after nine in the morning and she’s still wearing the clothes she had on last night. Ask a stupid question why don’t you, Mac?

  "Yes," she says innocently. "Ron is fantastic. Thank you for feeding Baby and Pussy."

  I stare at her.

  "Aren’t you late for work?" She asks me.

  "Yes. Yes, I am. But you know what? I phoned in and told them I would be late because there was a possibility that my mother had been murdered by a psycho axe murderer!" I’m shouting now, and I don’t care.

  "Mackenzie, what has gotten into you this morning?"

  "Where were you?" I yell.

  "I called you last night to tell you I was going to Ron’s, but that lazy bum of yours answered. I suppose he forgot to give you the message."

  "No, Mum. No, he did not, because he is not useless, lazy or a bum. Dan is great. But that isn’t the point. The point is that you called to say ‘give Baby his supper,’ you didn’t say anything about his breakfast. When I came over this morning, I was really worried because you weren’t home yet. Nobody had heard from you since last night, and you didn’t say anything about staying overnight. You have to be more responsible. There are people here who actually worry about you, you know." I suddenly realise how worried I was, and quite how dangerous all these strange men could be. I’ve been setting Mum up on dates with men left, right, and centre, with absolutely no idea who they are. Do I really think that spending an hour having dinner with them myself will tell me if they’re some psycho rapist or not? Am I really that arrogant?

  "You need to calm down, honey," Mum says. "Here, stroke Baby. He’s very calming."

  "He’s not calming. He’s spoilt. How can you have a dog that eats dog food off a fork?"

  "At the table." Mum adds. "You did let him sit at the table, didn’t you?"

  "No, I did not. Did Ron let you sit at his table?"

  "I don’t know what you mean, Mackenzie."

  "No, neither do I," I admit. "It just sounded like a clever comeback."

  I sink down in an armchair and sigh. "So, how did it go?" I ask, begrudgingly. I, of course, already know perfectly well how it went.

  "Oh, wonderfully. He’s absolutely fantastic. We just talked and talked all night long."

  "I’m sure you did something other than talk," I mutter under my breath.

  "If you’re implying that I slept with him, Mackenzie, then no I did not. I am not that kind of woman, and I don’t know why you think I would be."

  "Sorry." I sigh. "For everything."

  "Don’t worry," she says. "I appreciate it. I appreciate everything you’ve done."

  "So, tell me about your date with Ron then?" I say, brightly.

  "It was great. Do you know, we even got a free bottle of champagne in the restaurant because we were their thousandth customers? Can you believe that?"

  "Amazing," I say.

  "It was really nice, posh stuff too. It was a lovely restaurant. Ron has exceptionally good taste."

  "I bet."

  "Did you realise he looks just like that bloke from ER? That sexy one?"

  "George Clooney."

  "Yeah, him. I think he might be his father."

  "I doubt he’s George Clooney’s father, but he is very nice looking."

  "He is. And he’s funny. And he loves dogs. I went back to his house with him to meet his dog. It’s a little Chinese Crested, you know the bald ones, friendly little thing. She’s going to get on brilliantly with Baby. Ron wants me to make a matching outfit for her. We were even talking about breeding them."

  "I didn’t think that was possible," I say. "I thought Baby had been… ahem… seen to."

  "Yes, yes. But, you know, without the
actual breeding part. They could just be life partners. Like the gays."

  "You can’t say things like that, Mum."

  "Elea—oh, call me Mum if you want to. I feel young again dating Ron anyway."

  "So you are dating him then?"

  "Oh, most definitely. I can’t wait to see him again. We’re meeting tonight. We’re going to make out in the back row of the cinema like a couple of teenagers."

  "If it’s that premeditated then you are like a couple of teenagers. Horny teenage boys. Anyway, I thought you hated cinemas."

  "I don’t hate anything with Ron. I just want to spend time with him."

  I smile.

  "Thank you for finding him for me, Mac."

  "You’re welcome. It was easy."

  Pfft. Yeah, right.

  CHAPTER 32

  I am in heaven. I am curled up on the sofa with Dan, it is seven-thirty at night, and we are watching a movie. Okay, so it’s kind of a crappy movie about soldiers and guns that Dan chose, but the point is that it is seven-thirty at night and Eastenders is not playing on our TV. My mother is not here. She is out on her fifth date with Ron. She’s been out with him all day. She met him at lunchtime for a spot of shopping, and they’ve stayed together all day, gone out for a meal, and now they’re going to see a musical, and she’s probably staying over with him tonight. At least, that was the last phone call update that I got. I can’t believe that she got him to go shopping with her. I don’t even get Dan to go shopping with me and we’ve been together nearly two years, not all of the two minutes that Mum and Ron have been together.

  "I could get used to this," Dan says, stretching.

  "Me too."

  "Do you think it’ll last?"

  "With Ron? Yeah, why not?"

  Dan shrugs. "I dunno. It just seems too good to be true."

  "They’ve only been on five dates, so who knows what will happen. But I can see it lasting, yeah. They’re a very good match."

  "You’ve done a great job on this, I have to admit," he says. "When you first mentioned it, I thought you were insane, but you’ve really worked hard and found a great guy. Kudos to you."

  "Thanks," I say. I decide to jump right in and ask Dan what he thinks about something I’ve been mulling over in my head for a while now. "Dan, do you think there are other women who would want this?"

  "What?"

  "You know. Being set up with men who I’ve met and decided are compatible first?"

  "I don’t know what you mean, Mac. You want to do this for other women?"

  "Well, it’s just that old guy from Mum’s yoga class, and then that woman who phoned up the other day, it made me think that maybe there are other people out there looking for the second love of their lives, who for one reason or another, aren’t motivated to go out and find him themselves."

  "So, what? You want to do this as a job?"

  "If there’s a market for it, why not? I could start it up as a business, get out of being a nail technician which you know I hate, and do something that I love."

  "You love doing this? Babe, you’ve been nothing but frustrated for the past three months."

  "Yeah, but the rewards are amazing. Okay, so I’ve met some men who shouldn’t go outside in daylight, but the feeling of making a match, the satisfaction I’m getting right now from seeing my mum happy is all worth it. Don’t you think it could work?"

  "Is there a market for it? Outside of your mum’s yoga class, I mean?"

  I shrug. "I think there might be. I mean, out of all the men I’ve met, almost all of them have been married and divorced, or widowed or whatever, and they don’t want to grow old alone, but they have no idea where to begin, or even if they should begin, to find someone else. Someone they can be happy with. I could do that for them. I could find them someone, like I have for my mum."

  "Oh right. Because the first time was just so easy, wasn’t it?"

  "No, I’m not saying it was easy, but the rewards make it all worth it. Can you imagine if Mum and Ron get married? That would be because of me, Dan. Just me. I would have made two people sublimely happy. Two people who would never have found each other if it weren’t for me. There have to be other people out there who would pay for that."

  Dan shrugs. "I’m not trying to be down on the idea, babe, but are you sure you’re not just being overly romantic here? I know you’re a big sap and you love seeing people happy together, but do you really think you can earn a living from it?"

  "I don’t know, Dan," I say, secretly a little rejected because I had hoped he’d be more supportive. "But don’t you think I could try? I mean, professional matchmakers and dating agencies do it all the time. People pay for those. Don’t you think people would go for a more personalised approach?"

  "Don’t you think it’s a little creepy? I mean, doing it for your mother is one thing, but going on dates for complete strangers is quite another. How would you even know what they were looking for?"

  "They could fill out a survey or something, really detailed, and I’ll find them a match."

  "You sure you’re not just grasping at straws because you hate your current job so much?"

  "It’s not that I hate it, Dan, but I don’t love it. I want to do something else. Something that means something to people. Something that means something to me. Something that makes people happy."

  "Having a French manicure doesn’t make people happy?"

  "Maybe. But it doesn’t change their lives. Finding love would change their lives."

  "There was a time when you thought painting flowers on people’s nails would change their lives."

  "Yeah, and that job totally didn’t turn out like I expected it to. Don’t get me wrong, I love working with Jenni, and Liz, and all the girls, but it’s kind of boring. I want to do something that makes a difference. Even you can say that you do that, Dan. People fall in love over dinner dates. People propose over dinner, people break up over dinner, and you make that dinner. I paint pretty designs on the nails of people going out for dinner. I want to do something different, and I could do this. I could make people happy." I sigh. "And if the worst comes to the worst, I could give their hands a makeover before they meet their dates and charge extra for it."

  "I think you’re insane," Dan says. "Do you have any idea about businesses? About how to run one, or how to start one up? How to market?"

  "I have a For Dummies book. And Mum’s yoga class have already shown interest."

  "Yeah, one woman. Who you turned down!"

  "Well, I’ll call her back. And there was the old guy."

  "He wasn't even a client. And he paid you with a cup of coffee!"

  He's talking about the old guy who takes Mum's yoga class and wanted help finding a replacement wedding ring for his wife.

  "I don’t know, Dan," I say. "I don’t know. I was just asking you what you think. Would it really have killed you to be a little supportive? You know, all you have to say is ‘hey, that’s a great idea, Mac. You should look into it.’ Why can’t you ever just support me? You thought I was stupid trying to set my mum up, and look how that turned out, Dan. It worked. Even though you didn’t think it would. It worked. Why can’t you believe, even for one moment, that this might work too? Why can’t you ever give me the benefit of the doubt?" I pause, sitting on the edge of the couch. "And don’t worry," I add as an afterthought. "I don’t want any more free food from Belisana."

  "Mackenzie." He sighs. "It’s not about the free food. You’re welcome to eat there as much as you want. I just think that you haven’t thought this through. All the dates you’ve been on haven’t exactly been easy. Do you even remember the twenty-seven-year old? Or the guy old enough to be your grandfather asking for a blowjob?"

  "Yes," I say. "Like I could ever forget. But the reward at the end is worth it. My mum is happy now, Dan. And it’s not about having the couch to ourselves. It’s not about the fact that we don’t have to watch Coronation Street anymore. It’s about the fact that my mum is happy. She would never have
gone out and dated all those men herself. She would have gone on one bad date and given up, and she would still only have a spoilt Yorkshire terrier for company. But I didn’t give up, I kept going on bad dates, and now she has someone really special, who she probably has a future with."

  "And if she doesn’t?" Dan interrupts me. "What if that all goes sour and turns to dust too? As things have a tendency to do with your mother."

  "Then I go back out there, and I find someone else."

  "So, what? You’re not giving up until she’s married?"

  "Something like that, I guess." I sigh. "I don’t know. I just don’t know. We’ll see how it works out with Ron."

  "And if it works out, you think you can make a living out of setting people up on dates."

  "You know what, Dan? Yes. Yes, I do. I think I can do that, and if you had a little more faith in me, you would too."

  I get up and storm out the front door, slamming it hard behind me so the glass rattles. I love Dan, but I hate the fact that he is so discouraging about everything I do. Why is it so hard for him to support me, no matter what?

  I realise that I am stomping down the street and I have nowhere to go. I figure I’ll go over and feed Baby his supper now. Give both Dan and myself a bit of time to cool off from each other, and go back later to apologise. It’ll probably be me apologising—it always is.

  I open the front door of Mum’s house with my key, and Baby greets me by hurling himself at my knees and catching his claws on my trousers. It creates a big ladder in them, but for once I don’t care. I sit down on the doormat and stroke the dog, he’s excited now because he’s been on his own all day, and I realise something. My mother is right—he is very calming. But he’s still not allowed to pee in my plant pots. I suddenly find myself blinking back tears. What am I doing? Sitting on a doormat, stroking a tiny dog, and crying? Why? I don’t even know why myself. Dan is right about one thing—the past few months have been insane, but I keep coming back to the fact that it was so worth it. So, so worth it, just to see my mother happy and feeling young again. Okay, so I met a few creeps, but I also met some great guys, who I could use as a potential client list to set other women up with, even though they didn’t work out with my mother. Like Jeff, for instance. I could find Jeff someone wonderful. That someone special who I genuinely want him to find. It might not have been my mother, but it could be someone else. And I could do it. And if it works out, Dan can eat his words and admit he was wrong, and I could really do this. Couldn’t I?