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“It's the whole reason I'm here.” Mia Grady flips her hair behind her shoulders with a distinctly snooty air, signalling that I am not going to like whatever she is going to say next.
Not that I have liked much that has come out of Mia’s mouth since she arrived at my office for her Love Notes New Client Orientation. She has the entitled twenty-something act down to a science, and it is getting on my last nerve. But I just keep smiling and wait for whatever emotional bomb she is about to drop.
My hand shakes a little as I reach for my water glass sitting on the table between us, but I feel like I am maintaining an overall calm and confident demeanour. My years as a parent have inured me to this kind of stuff. And I am not going to let her ruin today for me. It is Friday, it is my birthday, and I have a special lunch date that is going to change everything just in time for the Christmas holidays.
This Mia drama is just a temporary glitch in an otherwise amazing day.
“I've only got so much time. You know what I mean?” She leans forward and murmurs the last part, like we are in some kind of sisterhood that will make it okay that every word out of her mouth is a not-so-subtle dig at me.
I sit up straighter, putting an almost imperceptible increase in the distance between us. A quick sip of water drowns the first words forming on my tongue. I absolutely do know what she means. I have been picking up her ageist vibe since the moment I caught her checking my hand for a ring.
The urge to set her straight on the status of my romantic life—just because I am over forty and not wearing a wedding ring doesn’t mean I am a dried-up spinster—burns in my throat. I swallow hard to keep it there. Mia is a Love Notes Client, and I am a professional.
And Charlotte, my boss and one of my best friends, is counting on me. There will be a resurgence of clients at the beginning of the New Year, but November and December can be kind of slow in the matchmaking business. I can’t alienate Mia, no matter how irritatingly entitled she might be.
Besides, in a few hours, nothing that Mia Grady is implying is going to matter. Today is the day that my love fortunes are taking an about turn for the amazing. Directly after this orientation I am having lunch with Greg—alone.
We never do anything together that doesn’t involve the kids. Not since the divorce, anyway. Which means that he has something important to tell me. And that can only be one thing. He wants to undo our divorce. He has been giving me subtle hints, like coming for family dinner on Sunday nights, for a while now.
A butterfly chorus line flutters in my stomach, and a grin spreads across my face, causing Mia to squint at me. I ignore her and turn my smile up an extra notch. I knew the divorce would never stick. We are going to spend Christmas as a family.
Nothing Mia says can change that.
“As women, we only have so much time.” Mia’s forehead unclenches, but her smile looks a little more plastic than smug. Clearly, my grin is unnerving her. “We have to be mindful of what we can lose if we wait too long. It’s why Mother suggested I sign up for the Intensive Love Notes package. I plan to be married before I am twenty-five.”
Drawing in a sharp breath, I snap my focus back to Mia and her snooty words. I have only been half-listening while I play out possible confession speeches—where Greg tells me how leaving me was his worst decision and that he has been living in darkness since—but I still caught her meaning.
She doesn’t want to end up like me. Middle-aged and alone.
I purse my lips, so close to informing her that love is a journey and just because I am single at this very moment doesn’t mean anything. Unlike her, I have put the work in. I have met my soulmate, and he is coming back to me in—I surreptitiously check the clock on the wall behind Mia’s head—approximately one hour. The butterflies execute a perfectly choreographed sequence of flips, even as I swallow the bitter taste in the back of my throat.
Charlotte would tell me I am overreacting. Mia is just triggering me with her youthful skin, perfect body, and belief that you can just pick a man and a perfect marriage will magically appear. Charlotte would say that this is just a sensitive subject for me, and she would be right. I have a healthy dose of imposter syndrome related to my ability to be a “love expert” when my own love journey has been a bit of a disaster.
I should just let her comment go. But I can’t. “How do you know I'm alone?”
Mia’s smile turns smug again. I clench my water glass, striving to stay focussed on thoughts of Greg begging me to give him a second chance instead of on Mia’s insinuations. I need to avoid saying anything else desperate. Just because Mia is a similar age to my daughters, Lillian and Abigail, doesn’t mean it is appropriate for me to give her some motherly perspective about judging others—no matter how badly she might need it.
“It’s so obvious. I can read it on your face. I knew the moment I walked in here that you were single and probably had three cats. Seriously, my only thought was, how are you going to help me find love?” Mia raises her eyebrows and tucks her chin in a snotty challenge.
I suck in my breath, counting to five in my head, trying to make it seem like I am not reacting. But the truth is she nailed my number so perfectly that I am struggling to process.
I am single—twice divorced actually—and I have exactly three cats.
I know this puts me into crazy cat lady territory, but there is a perfectly logical explanation for it. Cat number one was adopted for my daughters. In my first divorce, I got the cat and not much else. And when Lillian and Abigail became adults and moved out, the cat stayed. Cat number two was adopted for my son, Jake, because apparently his sisters’ cat wasn't good enough for him. And I would do just about anything to keep my family happy.
I got that cat in my second divorce.
And yes, there is still cat number three. But he was a stray, and I couldn’t exactly leave him out in the rain. I am just not that kind of person. It is exactly the type of thing that makes my friends say that I got the maternal genes for the entire group. Which sounds amazing to me, but I don’t think they necessarily meant it as a compliment. They think I let people walk all over me, and that I need to have better boundaries. But I am not willing to do it at the expense of someone who is vulnerable—kid or cat.
So here I am. Twice divorced with three cats.
Of course, I am not planning to confess any of that to Mia Grady. I would lose my very last shred of dignity. Besides, none of it matters because everything is about to change. All I need to do is add one husband to the situation, and my crazy-cat-lady label is replaced with loving wife and mother.
“Today's session isn't about finding your love.” The words stick in my throat. I don’t want to spend my energy finding Mia her soulmate. She is twenty-five, for God’s sake. She should be out at bars meeting random men, not at a matchmaking service like she is a nineteenth century debutante desperate for a husband before she turns into a spinster. But my job is to acquaint her with what Love Notes offers, not provide her insight on what her peers are probably up to.
“It's about helping us get to know you, so that we can guide you towards finding your match. Love Notes isn’t like the dating apps, which aim to set you up with a plethora of people just hoping something will stick.” Launching into the company spiel isn’t going to change Mia’s view on the desperation of my spinsterhood, but I need to get the focus back on her. “It’s a full-service matchmaking program, which means that we are here to guide you in your search. In the end, it’s you that discovers the love. We just help you create the situations or opportunities for you to encounter it.” I take a sip of water to cover the awkward silence at the end of my speech.
Mia is perky and cute, and she comes from a wealthy family. On paper, she has got everything she needs to find her soulmate all on her own—or at least a man with the right sized bank account and pedigree—but after sitting with her for ten minutes, it is more than clear that she would rather let someone else do the work of finding her the perfect man.
Which, of course, means me. Because at Love Notes, there are only Charlotte and me. Escaping Mia and her entitled eye rolls will be impossible.
Mia picks up her water glass, taking a dainty sip. Her eyes are thoughtful, like she is considering my words. Her expertly manicured, bubble gum pink talons, which perfectly match her skirt, pop against the clear liquid and clash with the few Christmas ornaments Charlotte put up yesterday to give the office a festive feel.
I resist the urge to tuck my own ragged nails under my legs.
Her eyes narrow. “I am looking forward to your carefully curated list of eligible men.”
I groan inwardly. Carefully curated? Is she serious? Did she even listen to what I said? This girl is too much, and she is going to be a handful for the entire duration of her plan with us. If only I had one of those big red “rejected” stamps they have in movies.
Most days, I love my job, but Mia is making it difficult. Working at Love Notes, of course, isn’t as great as when I was at home full time raising my kids. But it is so much better than bagging groceries, which, after being a stay-at-home mom for ten years, was probably the only thing I was qualified to do.
Not that bagging groceries isn’t crucial and important work. It just doesn’t have the potential for emotional engagement like working at Love Notes does. Connecting groceries with customers just doesn’t have the same feels as uniting two souls in love.
Luckily, when I was unexpectedly hit with a second divorce last year, Charlotte needed an assistant. Which is the long explanation for why I am here, being judged by the twenty-something sitting across from me.
Don’t get me wrong, I believe everyone deserves to find their true love, but having struggled in my own journey, sometimes it would be nice to see karma working in my favour just once.
I mentally square my shoulders, and I physically force a congenial smile onto my face. Mia can only ruin my day if I let her. And no matter what happens at this meeting—whether Mia Grady signs the contract or runs for the hills—this day is going to be amazing.
Today isn’t just my birthday. It is my forty-fifth, which might scare a lot of people, but not me. I am excited because it is the perfect day for my life to change. It is going to be the day it all turns around, and I stop sliding towards the abyss. Today, I will be vindicated in my belief that I don’t need to be searching for my next love match, because I have already met my soulmate, and soon we’ll be reunited. And then tonight, I will celebrate my birthday and my upcoming nuptials with my very best friends.
Mia might think that I am middle-aged, alone, and desperate, but that is because she doesn’t have all the information. She doesn’t know that Greg is finally going to admit that he made a terrible mistake, and that he can’t live without me.
He wants to get back together. I have to bite my tongue to keep myself from yelling it out loud as the butterflies do some high kicks. It is like an early Christmas present.
I knew this day would come. I never really believed we were over. We are a love match. Soulmates. It was just a matter of time—two years, to be exact—before he came around.
I can already picture our winter wedding. Maybe just after the New Year. I only need a few weeks to pull it together, and there is no reason to wait. The honeymoon will be somewhere tropical. I might even try one of those diets that I keep seeing all over my social media, so that I can wear a sexy little bikini. Get things started off right.
Okay, so I am aware that as a woman in my forties, the likelihood that I am going to find a bikini that is going to make my mother-of-three body look sexy in a month is a long shot. But I am ready to do just about anything for Greg.
“Are you listening to me?”
My attention snaps back to Mia, my eyes coming back into focus. I don’t have to fake a smile this time, because I am too lost in thoughts of my upcoming lunch date to even care that her list of requirements in a mate is ridiculous.
“Of course, but I must tell you that a credit check on prospective matches is not part of the services offered by Love Notes.” It takes a bit of work to keep the sarcasm out of my voice, but I think I manage it.
I need to finish “connecting” with Mia Grady so that I can go meet with my own true love.