Madisyn knocked on the door
on our agreed-upon date night.
The fireplace cracked over oak logs.
The flames whipped a mysterious aura
I arranged wine glasses on the wooden coffee table.
I chilled the wine in a tin bucket filled with ice.
I positioned a rose in a vase on the kitchen table.
I dialed the lights down to romanticism.
Soft pop music played on the radio.
I rushed to the bathroom.
I fixed my hair mirror
near a crucifix.
I blew out my breath.
I forced a silly face.
And then eased the tension
with a grin.
Besides, how bad could it be?
The single life called me out
for being miserable alone.
I wanted more than to come home
to no one to eat with; I’d become seemingly pathetic.
Katie did her own thing.
No time to spend time with Dad.
Not a movie.
Not a burger.
Hell, I couldn’t even pay
Katie to chill with me.
That’s a bit of a stretch, but not by much.
If Katie didn’t have a phone,
she’d have no place to bury her head.
But if Katie called, I’d drop everything to help her.
And that’s where this date comes in.
Katie sat me down.
She talked to me like she was the parent.
“Dad,” Katie said over coffee at the kitchen table. “Mom would want you to move on.” Katie brushed her warm embrace over my icy hand. “I’m old enough to take care of myself.”
I wiped my glassy eyes with a tissue. “What do you suggest?”
Katie threw up her hands like a gitty schoolgirl. She opened her laptop, typed in her passwords, and pulled up a website. “What do you think?” She spun the screen in my direction. “What am I looking at?”
“Your dating profile.”
I placed both hands on the table and leaned in her direction. “I’ve never dated online before.” My eyes stretched so wide that they hurt.
“First time for everything.”
“You could have at least—”
“We both know you would have said no.”
I slumped in my chair. “I can’t believe you.”
“You raised a good daughter.” She winked and tossed her arm around my shoulder. “Dad.” Katie pointed. “You have a message.”
“I like my profile picture.”
“I thought you would.” Katie glanced at her watch. “I’m going to be late.” She kissed my forehead. “Respond,” she said, grabbing her keys and jacket. “Message her!” she said before the door closed behind her.
I opened Madisyn’s message.
I’m new to this. I’m not looking for just sex. But I noticed that you love Jesus and pop/punk. You love chilling out by fireplaces with an occasional glass of wine. You have a desirable figure and eyes to die for. But I’m not a serial killer.
I grinned and continued.
There’s something about you that screams familiarity. I have no idea what, or if it’s anything at all. I’ve been flooded with guys sending me pictures of their junk. You don’t seem like you’d do that. If you’re interested, ask me anything age-appropriate.
I pictured a smile in the tone.
My coffee cup still steamed as I took a sip.
I ran my tongue across my teeth and drummed my fingers along the table’s edge. I laughed at myself for thinking about responding and doubted myself for not replying. I had nothing to lose, so I wrote back.
I’m new to this, too. You’re a beautiful woman. I don’t care if you’re not as lovely in person. Hell, you might have acne or something else that I’d overlook. I love Jesus, and I’m sure we have differences. I noticed your profile says you’re a cop. A cop? I mean, do you get called piggy a lot? Oink freaking oink?
I pictured this pulling a smile out of her. I sent the message. I went to cook dinner, and five minutes later, a message chimed. I slid to the table with my socks and apron on, licking cookie dough from the spatula.
It was Madisyn. She wanted to meet up.
She wanted to meet at a fucking park. I laughed until I laid eyes on everything I never knew I wanted.
Madisyn was there first, sitting on a blanket.
I followed the short trail, praying I didn’t lose my footing.
We chatted about our interests, children, and why we were single. Madisyn’s calm tone released the tension in my chest. I spilled my soul. It was just that kind of conversation. One that felt like more than a first date. One that felt like we’d been waiting forever to speak to each other, so there wasn’t a dull moment.
I straightened my collar and opened the door. Madisyn, Katie, and Francis stood together, all three smiling.
Our daughters set us up.
Madisyn remembered where she met me.
I adopted Katie as a child, so her mother didn’t know that Katie was Francis’s best friend.
I blushed. “You two, girls.” I shook my head and wrapped my arms around them.
“Okay, enough mushy stuff,” Katie said.
“We’ve got places to go.” Francis brushed a tear with her finger.
“You two have things to do,” Katie said.
“Be careful,” I told them.
“Extra careful,” Madisyn said.
They waved and exited the house.
Our kids always wanted sisters,
and we’d always wanted lovers.
We relocated to Seattle.
We wanted the forest weather.
A cabin on the outskirts of the city called our name.
A visible creek from the back porch blends with rows of evergreen trees.
And the snow had finally melted for the year.
Our happiness molded us into a family.