Me: This is beyond rude. He should be texting me.
After an hour, three glasses of wine, and no food, I began Googling convents in the area. Not surprisingly, there weren’t many. Helen hopped onto the stool next to me and put her arm around my shoulders. “Awh, Charlie, I’m sorry.”
She peeked at my phone. “You going to marry God now?”
“I’m thinking about it.”
“Stop drowning your sorrows in that wine. Let’s go home. We have to do brunch tomorrow at the restaurant and you know how Jon-Jon gets when we show up hungover.”
“I only have so many fucks to give, Helen, and Jon-Jon is not one of them.” I used Adam’s line because it was true. I needed to prioritize.
She pulled the glass out of my hand and downed the rest of it. “Let’s make a deal. We’ll get wine tomorrow after work and scroll through Match.com together and look for nice boys . . . for both of us.”
“No,” I barked. “As a matter of fact . . .” I hit the Match.com app on my phone and immediately deleted it. “I’m over it. I’m taking a break from dating. Giving myself six months, minimum.”
Helen laughed. She didn’t believe me, but I had suddenly and finally acquired some resolve after being a flake for so long. Getting dropped on your ass by two men back to back will do that to you.
9. [ . . .]
Six months later . . .
Six months into my celibacy, I was still slinging fries at Blackbird’s. Helen had managed to date a busboy, a cook, and the UPS delivery man. He serviced Blackbird’s while sweet Helen serviced him in the supply closet. She rebounded about ten times after Luc while he watched on with indifference. She told me I needed a rebound, too, but from what? A one-night stand and getting stood up almost immediately after by a hot guy with abs?
One Tuesday my mom came down for dinner at Blackbird’s. After our shift she was going to follow us back to my apartment so I could touch up her roots. I was muddling through the beginning of cosmetology school but losing interest with every day that passed, much to the surprise of no one.
I looked over to where my mom was sitting and noticed she was lowering and raising the stupid little tortilla soup flag like it was a toy. Approaching her table I said, “Are you bored?”
“Not at all, sweetie.” My mom had the most pleasant speaking voice and the kindest eyes. She made everyone smile. Helen always said my mom and I were alike in that way. I hoped it was true.
I sat down next to her in the booth, feeling suddenly curious about her at my age. I realized I had never asked her,“What did you want to do when you were younger, Mom?”
“What do you mean? Like, travel?”
“No, as your career?”
She sighed. “I wanted to do so many different things. But times were different back then. I was married and pregnant by twenty-one, and your dad was in dental school. I worked at Penny’s for about six months and then I was your mom . . . and then Chuck’s mom.”
“What were the so many things you wanted to be?”
Jon-Jon walked by, paused, and looked over at me. “Sitting on the job, are we?” he said.
“I’m taking my fifteen-minute, mandated-by-law break right now with my mom. Helen is covering my tables.” Jon-Jon never offered breaks even though he knew we were supposed to get them.
“You need to run that by me first,” he said.
“I couldn’t find you. Papi said you were in the bathroom for half an hour.”
He scowled before walking away.
“What’s his problem?” my mom said.
“Well, that’s him,” I pointed to his frumpy, fat butt and permanent wedgie as he walked away. And then I pointed to his older brother, Jack. “And that’s his brother, who is the owner of this restaurant. Jon-Jon has worked for him for fifteen years.” Jack was an extremely handsome forty-something. He owned three different Blackbird’s locations and Jon-Jon was just the manager of one.
“Oh, I see. Sibling rivalry,” my mom said.
“Yeah, I know how it is.”
“Why do you talk like that, Charlotte?”
“Because Chucky is the golden boy and I work at this place.” I waved my hand around vaguely. “Look around. Look at what I’m wearing.” I pointed to my bow tie.
“I love you, Charlotte. I know your dad is hard on you, but I wouldn’t care if you served tortilla soup for the rest of your life. I just wish you and Helen weren’t perpetually single.”
None of the relationships I’d had were worth discussing with my mom; they’d only met Curtis by accident.
“Everyone says Chucky is so good-looking and smart and was such an athlete. Dad didn’t go to a single one of my soccer games in high school because I wasn’t good enough. Chucky got all the girls in high school. The boys just thought I was awkward.”
She huffed. “Have you looked in a mirror lately? You have grown into a gorgeous young woman. Would you have some confidence, please? Sit up straight.”
I was taking slouching and bad posture to a whole new level. “I just feel like I’m at a dead end.”
“Well, it’s time to make a goddamn U-turn, kid. By the way, I might have gone on your computer dating thing.” She shot me a sheepish look. “Don’t be mad. Helen told me you stopped using it after that Seth guy stood you up.”
“Yeah, I changed my freaking phone number the next day, too. Clean slate.”
“Hmm, that explains it.”
Jon-Jon was back. “Is that fifteen?”
I looked at my imaginary watch. “Nope, only twelve.”
He shook his head and walked away. I looked over and noticed Helen flirting with a patron.
“See, Helen has confidence,” my mother said.
“She’s a freakin’ actress. Anyway, what were you gonna say about the dating site?”
“There was a message from that boy. The one who stood you up. He said his dad had—”
“Wait. How do you know about that?”
“Helen told me.”
I caught Helen’s attention and mouthed I’m gonna kill you.
She shrugged.
“Anyway,” my mother went on, “Seth’s dad had been in a car accident. He’s okay but he had to have surgery.”
All of a sudden my mom knows all about Seth’s family life? Seth, whom I don’t even know?
“So what, Mom. I’m over dating.”
“He’s very cute. He apologized profusely and said he tried calling you. That must have been around the time you changed your number. I wondered why you did that.”
“I have to get back to work.”
“Hold on. About a week ago, he messaged again and said he was hoping you still checked the site. You should go on and read the messages.”
“Maybe,” I said. I kissed her cheek and walked away.
* * *
BACK AT OUR apartment, as I put color in my mom’s hair at the kitchen table, Helen went onto my Match profile from her laptop on the couch.
“Awh,” she said.
“What! Read it to me.”