Kismetology

by Jaimie Admans

  I stomp round there on Saturday morning.

  "Mum, you can’t go out with Evan tonight."

  "Why not?"

  "Because he’s horrible."

  "He is not. Mackenzie, I’m ashamed of you. How can you say that? Evan is the sweetest man I’ve met so far."

  "No, he’s not. He’s awful."

  "Then why would you set me up on a date with him?"

  I sigh. I should have known this plan would backfire spectacularly.

  "The dates this week weren’t for real," I admit finally. "I just wanted to make you realise what a catch you had with Ron, so I set you up with the worst men I could find. You weren’t supposed to fall for them."

  "Mac, how stupid do you think I am? I’d figured out your little plan by Tuesday."

  "So, why are you dating Evan?"

  "I’m not dating Evan. Evan asked me to suck his you-know-what under the table. I threw a glass of wine in his face and walked away. I just thought I’d say it to wind you up."

  "You’re joking."

  "Nope." She shakes her head proudly.

  "But… But…" I keep opening my mouth like a fish but no words come out.

  "What? You think little old mummy can’t get one up on you too?"

  "No, I just…"

  "You have to admit that was pretty good."

  "It was," I say eventually. "You really had me going there."

  "Good," she says. "It serves you right for trying to make me date such morons."

  "So, did it work?" I ask. "Don’t you realise how perfect Ron was now?"

  "It made me realise how perfect someone is," she says quietly. "But it’s not Ron."

  "You’re kidding. Who is it?"

  "I’m not telling you."

  "It’s not Baby, is it?"

  "Baby is special in his own way, but no, it’s not Baby."

  "Who is it then? Tell me."

  "Nope."

  "Are we back to the mystery man I’ve been trying to find for months?"

  "We might be," she says. She’s doing this on purpose now. She just wants to wind me up with all the cryptic answers and mysterious looks.

  "Tell me one thing," I say. "I don’t want to know who it is. I don’t care anymore. But tell me one thing. Tell me why you won’t tell me."

  "Because I don’t want to give you the satisfaction."

  I repeat this over in my head. She doesn’t want to give me the satisfaction.

  "It is Ron, isn’t it?" I ask. "Because it would give me immense satisfaction to see you two back together."

  "Nope, it’s not Ron. And I’m not telling you who it is."

  "Is it Dad, then? You don’t want to tell me because I was barking up the right tree all along?"

  "Nope. We’ve had this conversation, Mackenzie. I don’t want to see your father again for as long as I live."

  "But I can help," I whine. "I can find him and fix you guys up. I just want you to be happy."

  "I’ll be very happy when I’ve been to the hairdressers this afternoon, so if you don’t mind, I have to get ready to go out." Mum walks to the front door and holds it open for me.

  "Are you throwing me out?"

  "I’m saying that I have to get ready for my hair appointment, so you may as well leave. I’ll talk to you tonight."

  "Huh. Fine," I say. "See you later."

  Buggering hell, I’m annoyed. This mystery man is still in the picture, I’d be very satisfied to know who it is, and it’s not Ron, Dad, or Baby. Who the hell is it, then? What am I missing here? The only other person I can think of is Neil, the old boyfriend, and I’m fairly sure that it’s not him either. So who is he? Who is this guy? And why would I be very satisfied to know who he is? It has to be my father or Ron. It just has to be.

  CHAPTER 50

  Dan and I are just getting ready to go to bed when the phone rings that night.

  "Hello," I answer.

  "Hello, may I please speak to Mackenzie Atkinson?"

  "Speaking. Who is this?" And why are you calling me at eleven o’clock on a Saturday night? Don’t you bloody telemarketers ever sleep?

  "Ah, Miss Atkinson. Your mother asked me to call you. I’m Nurse Winston from Bristol General Hospital."

  The words mother and hospital register in my brain.

  "Oh my god," I say. "Is everything okay? What’s wrong?"

  "Now don’t worry," she says. "It’s nothing serious. Your mother was admitted to A & E tonight for a rather severe asthma attack."

  "Oh my god. Is she okay?"

  "She’s fine, she’s fine. We’ll be releasing her shortly and she asked me to call you to find out if you would come and pick her up."

  "Of course," I say. "I’ll be right there. Tell her to wait for me. Are you sure she’s okay?"

  "Yes, yes. We’ve just told her to take it easy for a couple of days. Her inhaler had run out, you know?"

  "Yeah, she hasn’t had any problems with the asthma in about eight years."

  "Well, you should make sure that she always has an in date inhaler on her."

  "I will," I say, shocked. "The drive is going to take me about half an hour." If I’m thinking of the right hospital, otherwise it may take me all night. "I’ll be there as soon as I can."

  "What?" Dan asks, looking annoyed.

  "My mum," I say, jumping up and looking around for my trainers. "She had an asthma attack, she’s in the hospital."

  "Oh. Is she okay?"

  "The nurse said she’s fine."

  "Then where are you going?"

  I stare at him a moment. "I’m going to pick her up."

  "I thought you said she was okay?"

  "She is."

  "So let her get a fucking taxi. Come to bed."

  "Are you kidding me?"

  "What? Why?"

  "My mum is in A & E, and all you can think about is going to bed with me?"

  "Why do you have to pander to her every need, Mac? Why do you have to run out at all hours just because she coughed once?"

  I stop rushing around trying to find my coat, shoes, car keys and handbag all at once and glare at him. "She had an asthma attack, Dan. One serious enough for her to be admitted to hospital."

  "What it comes down to is one thing: who is more important to you—me or her?"

  "Are you serious?"

  He shrugs.

  "I don’t have time for this, Dan," I say, finally locating the car keys. "I’ll talk to you later."

  I’m seething as I get in the car and start driving. How dare he pull that one on me? How dare he try the ultimatum angle? Who does he think he is? I’m so angry that I may be going a little over the speed limit. Thankfully there are no cops around and the roads are surprisingly quiet for a Saturday night. And I really wish my stupid little car had satellite navigation. I’m driving in the general direction of where I think the hospital is. It does take a good half an hour to get there, but I’m lucky not to have hit any traffic jams. Maybe karma is on my side for once.

  I throw the gear into park, and aim the keyring somewhere over my shoulder to lock the car behind me as I run into the hospital.

  "My mum was admitted here tonight," I pant to the receptionist. "Eleanor Atkinson."

  "Oh." The receptionist smiles. "You must be Mackenzie."

  I’m taken aback that she knows my name, but I nod. "Yes," I say. "I’m Mackenzie. Is my mother okay?"

  "She’s just fine," the receptionist says. "She’s been telling us all about your job and the men you’ve been finding for her."

  "Really?" I look up from my heavy breathing a minute to check her face and see if she’s joking or not. She doesn’t appear to be.

  "I’ll just call a nurse for you," she says.

  Within a few seconds a round-faced, smiling nurse appears and beckons me to follow her through the doors. "I’m Nurse Winston," she says, still smiling. "We spoke on the phone."

  "Ah, yes," I say.

  "It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mackenzie," she says. "Your mother has b
een telling us all about you. What’s your fee?"

  "My fee?"

  "For finding a bloke? I could use a nice date or two. All the men I meet are lunatics. And that’s not just because I work part time in the psychiatric ward."

  "Um," I say. To be honest I hadn't even thought that far ahead. "It’s two hundred and fifty quid," I blurt out a figure off the top of my head.

  "Well, that sounds like a small price to pay for such a great service. Where do I sign up?"

  "Sign up? You want me to set you up with men?"

  "If you wouldn’t mind. You’re not too busy, are you?"

  "No," I admit. "You’d be my first paying client."

  "Well, then. What an honour." She grins.

  I can’t help thinking that this is quite an unusual conversation to have while walking down a hospital corridor, waiting to see if your mother is dead or not.

  "Here we go," the nurse says finally. She pushes a door open and I see Mum. She’s sitting on the side of a white bed in an all white room, fully dressed and looking annoyed.

  "There you are," she says. "You took your time."

  "Sorry," I say, surprised. "I… I thought… I just… Are you okay?"

  "Yes," she says. "I’m fine. I was starting to think you weren’t coming."

  "I drove as fast as I could."

  She shrugs. The nurse sits down in the chair opposite the bed.

  "Now, what were we talking about earlier?" Nurse Winston asks Mum.

  "Yes, I know," Mum says guiltily. "I must always keep a full inhaler on me, no matter how good my asthma has been."

  "So, are you all right?" I ask, looking between them. "What happened?"

  "I just started to feel like I couldn’t breathe," Mum says. "I was really struggling for air so I called an ambulance."

  "You should have called me," I say.

  "I tried. It was engaged."

  "Oh yeah, Dan was talking to one of his mates for ages earlier. Sorry."

  "It’s okay. I’m fine now."

  "But make sure you keep your inhaler in check from now on," Nurse Winston says. "No excuses."

  "So, what caused this?" I ask. "It’s been fine for so long."

  "They think it was a reaction to the dust the builders made," Mum says.

  "But that was last week. And we cleaned. Well. Really well."

  "It’s just the dust particles in the air, and the fumes from whatever chemicals the builders used. They lie around in the air for weeks afterwards, and your mother has been breathing them in for a week. It built up in her lungs and it had to come to a head sooner or later. And, of course, it wouldn’t have been such a problem if she’d have had a decent inhaler in her house."

  "Don’t worry," Mum says. "I’ve learned my lesson."

  "You had better," I say. "And I’m going to be keeping an eye on you from now on."

  "So, are you ready to go?" Mum asks.

  "Yeah, sure," I say. "As long as you’re positive you’re okay."

  "I’m fine," she says. "I’ll be glad to get out of here."

  "And I thought you liked us," Nurse Winston says jokingly.

  "Oh, I do," Mum says.

  "She certainly likes bragging about you, Mackenzie."

  "Oh no." I feel my face go red.

  "Yes, very much indeed. So, how do you go about this business thing?"

  "Well," I say. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

  "Yes, positive. You’re exactly the sort of service I’ve been looking for without knowing I was looking for it, if you know what I mean."

  "Oh yes," I say. "That’s what I was hoping for."

  She smiles.

  "Okay, er, I’ve not got an office or anything yet, but how about we swap contact numbers, and I’ll give you a ring on Monday and we’ll arrange to meet for coffee, and we can have a chat about what you want in a man, and then we’ll go from there. How does that sound?"

  "That sounds excellent," she says.

  I hand her a business card and write down her phone number. This is amazing, and I realise that I have to make a decision about my job for real now. If I’m going to do this, I have to go for it right here and right now. I have to get an office, get registered as a business, and—here comes the scary part—quit my nail technician job.

  And I can’t wait.

  CHAPTER 51

  After I’ve dropped Mum off at home that night, given her the spare key back and told her to come over any time she wants and to call if she so much as coughs, I go home. Dan is sitting on the sofa, staring blankly at some sci-fi movie on the TV screen, feet up on the coffee table, as usual. I’m surprised he’s still up. It’s after one in the morning—I thought he’d be in bed by now.

  "We need to talk," he says when he sees me.

  "Yes, we do."

  "I can’t believe you did that tonight."

  I stare at him. "You can’t believe I did what?"

  "That. When we were all set to go to bed, to have a nice night together, and then your damn mother calls and you go running out the door."

  "She was in the hospital."

  "I don’t care where she was. It’s every fucking time. ‘We can’t have sex tonight, Dan, my mum is downstairs.’ ‘I can’t touch you tonight, Dan, my mum might hear from three doors down.’ ‘No, don’t kiss me, Dan, my mum might be somewhere within a five hundred mile radius.’ You always put her first. I feel like I’m not as important to you as she is."

  "Dan…" I don’t know where to begin. "Dan, it’s not a competition to see who’s more important. That’s just stupid. It’s not that she comes first, or you come first, or whatever. It’s just that she’s had a bit of a nightmare lately with the fire and then the asthma thingy tonight. She’s needed me a little lately, so I’ve been there for her."

  "Well, what about me? I’ve needed you a little lately too, and you haven’t been there for me."

  "That’s just crazy. I’m always there for you, Dan. We live together. But you haven’t had your kitchen burn down or your lungs try to kill you recently. She has, and she’s needed us to help her out, and we have. And now I hope that everything can get back to normal."

  "It will never be normal with her living three houses away."

  "Look, I agree that it was a mistake to move so close. I agree that we should have moved a few miles away—"

  "Skipped the country, more like," Dan interrupts.

  "That’s not the point. The point is that I’ve been working my butt off for the past few months, trying to get us more space, more privacy from her, and it may not have worked yet, but it will. You have to believe that. It will work."

  "Nothing’s working anymore, Mac."

  I nod. I know what he means, and I’m half ready to admit it myself, and half not ready to give up on us yet.

  "So, what do you want to do?" I ask nervously.

  "We can’t carry on like this," Dan says. "I can’t deal with your mum all the time, and I can’t deal with always coming second."

  "You don’t always come second, Dan. It’s just that—"

  "It feels like I do."

  "Well, perhaps if you’d let me finish a sentence," I snap.

  "Sorry."

  "Fine. It’s not that you always come second, Dan. But you must understand that things have been a little crazy lately. It’s not normal that my mum’s kitchen caught fire and she had to stay with us for a few days. It won’t always be like that. She’s not going to stay with us again…"

  "Until the next time she tries to burn something down just to come between us."

  "Oh, for god’s sake—"

  Dan cuts me off again. "It’s not just that, Mackenzie. Take tonight, for instance. She snaps her fingers and you jump. Eleven o’clock on a Saturday night, and all it takes is one phone call and you’re jumping in the car, driving god knows where, just to pick her up when she could just as easily have called a cab."

  "Daniel, she was in accident and emergency. She could’ve had something seriously wrong with her. She could have bee
n dying. If someone phoned up and told you that your mother was in the hospital, are you seriously telling me that you wouldn’t jump in your car and go straight down there?"

  He shrugs. "Not if she was a demanding, old bitch like your mother is."

  "Don’t call my mother a bitch. She’s lonely, Dan. I’m trying to solve that problem, but you’re not exactly helping right now."

  "She’s not that fucking lonely," he says. "She keeps going on about her dog being her family and she’s got all the old biddies from her yoga lessons. She’s not fucking lonely at all, she just damn well hates me."

  "I’m starting to see her point," I mutter.

  "Exactly. You see that? She’s been trying to come between us since day one, and now it looks like she’s succeeded. Tell her thanks from me, Mac."

  "I’m sorry," I say. "I didn’t mean that. But you can’t expect me to cut my mother out of our lives altogether."

  "I don’t," he says. "Not altogether. But I do expect you to set some boundaries. Like it’s not okay to come around here at three o’clock in the morning. When we say the dog mustn’t chew the carpet then she has to stop the fucking dog chewing on the fucking carpet. You told her the dog wasn’t welcome here after the plant incident, and the next day she bought the fucking dog round again, like she’d ignored every word you’d said."

  "I know," I say. "But it’ll get better. If I can just figure out who this mystery man is then we’ll have scored. She can go spend all her time with him instead."

  "I don’t think this so-called mystery man even exists."

  "Why do you say that?"

  He shrugs. "I reckon she just doesn’t want to meet a man so she can concentrate all her energy on splitting us up. She’s telling you she’s in love with someone so you’ll spend all your time concentrating on finding a person who doesn’t exist, and not on finding her anyone she can actually be happy with."

  "That’s insane."

  "Maybe I am insane. Didn’t your mother tell you that? Because, you know, according to her, I’m also a murderer who made an attempt on her life."

  "Did you?"

  It’s his turn to stare at me. "And that just illustrates my point," he says eventually.