Dating by Numbers

by Jennifer Lohmann

  “I feel like I’ve been had,” Ian said, though Jason could tell he was more amused than anything.

  “You have,” Jason agreed. “And it’s pretty great.” He turned in his chair to face the amazing woman next to him. “I’ll let you pick where we go.”

  She raised her brows at him. “Yeah. That’s magnanimous of you.”

  He laughed. “I thought so.”

  Dell pushed away from the table. “I’m done being made fun of.” He nodded sharply at Marsie. “I’ll see you next time. And I’ll be prepared.”

  “Okay. I look forward to it.” Marsie’s eagerness wasn’t faked. She liked a challenge and wasn’t interested in the easy.

  Except in dating, a petty part of Jason’s mind said. In dating, she wanted someone just like her and nothing new or interesting.

  Suddenly, Jason was disappointed and irritated with their whole dating buddies thing. Mostly, he wanted the rules about who each of them could date and would date to be gone. He wanted them to take each other seriously as...as...as something.

  “Ready to go?” he asked Marsie as he backed away from the table, trying to hide his annoyance with their relationship rules, which he’d helped created.

  “Sure.” She held out her hand and a stack of cash was placed in her palm. “I’ll think about where I want to spend this for dinner. And what else I might want to buy. This is a lot of money.”

  Jill cackled.

  Jason just wanted out of the basement. He wanted to be in his truck driving Marsie home like they were on a date, and yet he didn’t want that, at all. Both at the same time. Because she probably wasn’t interested in him. He didn’t meet her standards, whatever the hell those were.

  They gathered up their things and followed Jill up the stairs. The rest of the players were still sitting around the table. Dell still pushed away from the edge, but not yet having found the effort to get up.

  Marsie didn’t seem to notice the change in Jason’s attitude. Why should she? He didn’t want her to notice. He wanted things to be just as they were before tonight—when he’d realized she was more amazing than he could have ever imagined—or to be completely different.

  With cash in her hand, she was perfectly content. With his wallet lighter and his friends moderately pissed at him—and him being pissed at himself—he was feeling better than he had in years.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  MARSIE HOPPED INTO the passenger seat of Jason’s truck, looking almost plucky—which was not a word he thought he would ever use to describe her. Winning, and her excitement about it, looked good on her. Especially since he guessed that she won often, but crowed about it rarely.

  Her lips were pursed, like an I told you so was waiting to come out. Of course, he’d tell her that he’d told her so, that she’d beat them all at poker, and she’d laugh and he’d watch how beautiful she looked when she was relaxed and happy.

  Of course, I told you so wasn’t Marsie’s style.

  “That was fun,” she said as soon as Jason was in the car next to her. “Thanks for inviting me. I hope I did what you wanted me to.”

  He started his truck. “You beat the pants off them, and you’re going to buy me dinner. That is what I wanted. The show was a bonus.”

  Then he thought about what she said. I hope I did what you wanted me to. Marsie didn’t do what people wanted her to. Not that she was a rebel or disobedient—whatever that meant for anyone over five—but she had this sense of who she was and what she wanted to get accomplished in life and the rest of the world be damned.

  No cars were coming down the road. But instead of turning onto the road, he turned his head to look at her. “Why did you do it?”

  “Agree to your scheme or play a part while doing it?”

  “Parts,” he corrected. “It would have been great if you’d played one part, but you moved so quickly through all their expectations of what a female poker player could be that they never had a chance to see you.

  “But really, I want to know the answer to both.”

  “Are you going to drive me back to my house, or do I have to answer first?”

  “Oh. Yeah.” He looked both ways again, then turned onto the street.

  “The first one is easy. You believed in me. When people believe in me, I like to live up to their expectations. As for why all the parts, you were right about two of those men not believing that a woman could beat them in poker. When people don’t believe in me, I like to smash their expectations.”

  “Do you have a lot of practice at that? Smashing expectations?”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he caught her shrug. Then she finally answered. “Yes.”

  No I guess from Marsie. She didn’t deal in guesses.

  Then she surprised him by continuing to explain. Much like guessing, she didn’t often explain. “Sometimes, I do both at the same time. And disappoint, too. My dad, for instance. He expected me to be good at math, so I am. He expected me to be soft, so I try never to be. And he expected me to be something more than a researcher at a firm. So there he is, pleased and disappointed at the same time. Mostly disappointed.”

  Jason was about to say, he’s crazy, because the man was. Marsie was one of the smartest people he knew. One of the smartest people in a building of smart people. But he also understood. “My parents are disappointed in me. They wanted me to be something other than blue collar, like they are. But I never wanted to do anything that didn’t involve me working with my hands and fixing things. So it was either be a carpenter or a mechanic. I guess I could have become a general contractor, but managing the building is more stable and I get control over a building for years, past completion and through several visions. I’ve enjoyed that.”

  “Are they pleased, too?”

  “Sure. Ultimately I’m a good guy. I’m not married yet and they want grandkids, but I have a full-time job that gives me benefits and puts money into my 401(k).” He laughed. “It’s basically everything they wanted for me to have with a white-collar job, without the fancy education. Or the salary they imagined came with it.”

  “I’m not sure either of my parents are pleased. My dad thinks I lean too socialist in my choice of research. My mom thinks I’m too capitalist.” She laughed too, only hers was not as lighthearted as his had been. “Though, even with my mom’s freewheeling tendencies, she always expected me to have a job with benefits.”

  He risked a quick glance at Marsie, who looked thoughtful. “She wasn’t as rebellious as she’d liked to think. An organic farm in the middle of nowhere was an acceptable option for her, but not for me.”

  They were getting close to her house. He didn’t want to let her go. In the dark confines of his car, a little money in her hand and beer in her belly, Marsie was showing him a whole new side of herself. One that he knew had to exist, but hadn’t seen for himself. She was vulnerable and soft, and it only made her stronger.

  And she made him want to be better. She’d always made him want to be better, since they shared that first cup of coffee, but he only now realized how much of an impact on his entire life she could have.

  If she was strong, there was no way he could be weak.

  “Would you have wanted to be a rebel?” He tried to picture Marsie rebelling. Maybe a goth look with heavy black makeup and black boots that went up to her knees and stomped everything in their path.

  He couldn’t. Not the Marsie that was sitting in his truck next to him. She seemed too perfect as she was to ever be anything else.

  “Not really. I don’t know that I ever considered being anything other than what I thought my parents wanted for me. Strange how I think they are both disappointed in different ways.”

  “Are parents ever not disappointed by their children in one way or another?”

  “I don’t know. I hope not to be. And not because
I don’t think my children will be disappointing, but because I’d like to think I’ll let them be the person they want to be, rather than the person I want them to be.”

  “Yeah. I imagine that I’ll fail at that. I mean, I’m not sure it’s possible not to think about all the things your kids might be in the future, and the person they actually become was never a part of that list.”

  “Does that have to mean disappointment?”

  “I don’t know. I hope not.” He could hear the smile in her voice and knew both that she meant it and that she’d probably succeed.

  Jason turned onto Marsie’s street too soon for his liking.

  “Oh, good,” she said. Apparently, she wasn’t hoping to keep up their conversation and delve into the depths of each other’s souls in the middle of the night. “I’m really tired and have a long day tomorrow.”

  “Anything good?”

  “I’ve got a date.”

  Man, talk about a soul crusher. It didn’t even help that she didn’t sound very excited about her date.

  “Anyone special?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. Probably not. I’m feeling like every guy is missing something and I can’t put my finger on what it is, so I don’t even know how to look for it.”

  “Yeah.” He felt that way, too, about the women he’d been dating.

  “Hey...” She paused, her hand on the door handle. “Do you have Jill’s number? She seems like someone I’d like to get to know better.”

  “Sure. I can get it for you.”

  “Great. Thanks.” Marsie hopped out of the car and headed down her walk with a wave before Jason even had his seat belt undone. Then she disappeared into her house and her front light went out, and Jason wondered what the hell else he was going to do with his night if Marsie wasn’t around.

  * * *

  MARSIE CLOSED THE door behind her with a smile. The night had been fun, and not just because she’d won a lot of money. Jason was good to be with. When she was with him, her sharper points seemed...not softer, but less damaging. Like, with him, she could be anything. She could do anything.

  She pushed herself off her door and started for her stairs.

  That was the problem with the men she’d been on dates with. They never made the world feel limitless.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  MARSIE STOOD IN line at the La Farm Bakery and waited to order her pastry and coffee. She also waited for Jill, who was either going to be over five minutes late or possibly wasn’t coming at all. Making friends was a lot like dating, which was probably why Marsie had a limited number of friends.

  She had ordered her cappuccino and Belgian chocolate brownie and was walking to find a table when the door opened and Jill sailed in, a flutter of plaid and jeans. The woman must have caught sight of Marsie right away, because she headed over to her, standing in the middle of people and tables, instead of going over to the line.

  “I’m so sorry,” Jill said. “I’m one of those rare people who actually grew up in Cary, and I remember when it didn’t have traffic. Which was forever ago.”

  “Yeah,” Marsie said, caught up in the wake of the woman like she had been caught up in her hug. “Is this seat okay?”

  “Great. Let me go get my coffee and something to munch on.”

  Marsie sat, then heard her name called out and turned. “Hi, Beck,” she said to her friend, who was walking up to her. “What are you doing here?”

  “Meeting Neil. He just left. This was a good neutral place to talk about next steps for the end of our marriage.” Beck’s face was cheery, but there was a hard edge to her voice—a dead giveaway that she’d been faking being okay for too long.

  “Oh, Beck, I’m sorry.”

  Her friend waved away the sympathy. “It’s okay,” she said, then shook her head. “No, it’s not okay, but it will be okay. This is all part of the process. One step at a time.” Her friend sounded like she was repeating what she’d heard in therapy, but wasn’t sure she believed it yet.

  “So what is next?”

  “Separation agreements. Which means divorce lawyers and more fighting. He already has one. Protection, he called it. In case I get nasty.”

  Marsie couldn’t imagine Beck being nasty, but neither could she imagine Beck and Neil divorced. The world was full of possibility; she only needed to open her mind to all of them.

  Easier said than done and better done with something cheerier than her best friend’s divorce.

  “Hey,” Jill said from behind Marsie. “I’m Jill.”

  Marsie introduced her best friend to her new friend. Jill set her coffee and pastry on the table and sat. Beck sank into a chair, almost like it was the only other option besides going out to get a divorce lawyer, which she didn’t want to do.

  “You’re friends with Jason,” Beck said. “Marsie’s online dating buddy.”

  “Online dating buddy?” Jill asked, turning from Beck to Marsie. “I just knew you as his work-coffee friend.”

  Marsie shrugged, still embarrassed to be talking about online dating. “We’re each other’s moral support for dating, too.”

  Jill took a bite of her cookie and looked at Marsie long and hard. “But you and Jason aren’t dating. Have you tried?”

  Marsie shook her head and was about to answer when Beck interrupted, “According to Marsie, they have nothing in common.”

  “Hey,” Marsie said. “It sounds stupid when you say it like that.”

  Beck raised a brow. Jill wiggled her fingers for more. Marsie put down her coffee cup and explained the algorithm, hoping that math made saying “we have nothing in common” about a man as great as Jason sound less stupid. Unfortunately, when she was done, Jill was nodding. “I see the problem,” she said.

  “The problem with Jason and me dating?” Marsie asked, knowing she was wrong.

  “The problem with your method for choosing men. I’m guessing that Kenny wouldn’t pass your algorithm.”

  “But would he pass yours?”

  Jill looked thoughtful. “I think I’m too far removed from when we met to remember what I was looking for in a partner, other than supportive. Caring. Accepts me as who I am and doesn’t want me to change, but also who helps me become a better person.”

  “You know,” Beck said dryly, “the minor things.”

  Marsie scowled at Beck, then saw the sadness in her friend’s eyes and softened her glare. “When you say it that way, it sounds almost impossible. There’s nothing you can tell from a man’s online profile about how supportive he’ll be in a crisis.”

  Even her new qualitative analysis couldn’t tell her if a man would make her want to be a better person. That took getting to know someone. Then she was back in the same problem, how to sift through the large number of men on the dating site to pick the ones to meet and hope they might be that accepting, supportive, loving partner Jill talked about.

  “No,” Beck said. “All you can tell are the things on your algorithm. Neil would have passed my algorithm. By your account, we have everything in common. Except me wanting kids.” Beck’s voice trembled and both Jill and Marsie reached out a hand. Jill rested hers on Beck’s shoulder, Marsie on her knee.

  “But I didn’t really know what that meant when we got married. All I knew was that we were perfect for each other.” Beck paused. “Until we weren’t. Things can always go wrong.”

  “But you have to take a chance,” Jill continued. “That’s what happened for me and Kenny. He has a twinkle in his eyes that I really like. I took a chance on that twinkle.”

  “The world is full of possibility,” Marsie said, as much to herself as to her friends. “I just need to open my mind up to all of them, even the improbable ones.”

  Beck looked amused as Jill shook her head and said, “I wouldn’t have put it that way,
but sure.”

  “I need a break from looking at the online dating site. At least until I process this.”

  “If you rework your algorithm again, I think you’ll have missed the point,” Beck said. Her friend knew her too well.

  “But I need some way to sort through the men. The algorithm is as good as anything.”

  “I’ve not seen the algorithm,” Jill said, “but I would say use it and then keep your options only for the man who doesn’t pass, but looks interesting anyway.”

  Jason, Marsie thought, though she wouldn’t ever say it to the two women. Then she’d have to explain spark and how they didn’t have any. Instead, she spent the rest of coffee listening to her old friend and her new friend get to know each other while she wondered if Jill’s and Beck’s advice had changed anything.

  * * *

  MARSIE WAS CLEANING off her desktop before leaving work for the weekend when her email dinged. She straightened the stack of papers that she would need on Monday and filed some of the other pieces that she was done with. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught that the email was from the granting organization. She started to lean closer to her computer, then leveled herself back with the papers she needed to pick up.

  One of the organizational and time-management rules she held to was not letting her email interrupt her other work. There was time for email and there was time for cleaning and there was time for running reports. Trying to do all of them at once was a recipe for inefficiency.

  And Marsie hated inefficiencies. Perhaps it was an economist thing. Perhaps it was a neatness thing. The why didn’t bother her. It meant she could get more work done in a couple days than most people did in a week.

  Being a female in a male-dominated job, she had to be able to do twice the work if she wanted to get half the credit.