I Need a Man

Rebecca

“Is there really any point?” Rebecca huffed as her best friend Trisha stared her down from across the small table. Rebecca glanced around the bar, which was filled with people and buzzing with excitement.

“You’re not going to be a killjoy tonight. We’re going out this weekend if it kills us. I’m stuck at home with four kids all day, not living the glamorous life of an entrepreneur.”

“I’m not sure who sold you that lie, but I’ve got some oceanfront property in Arizona …” Rebecca smiled.

The bar was busy, but the restaurant was dead around them, which always seemed to be the case on Thursday nights. Their ritual beer at five was a must-not-miss event and neither of them did, unless death or some other large-scale occurrence called them from it. They’d been friends for as long as Rebecca could remember, and yet she’d never grown tired of sharing life with Trisha.

“What are you thinking? You have that look in your eye.”

“What look?” Rebecca held up her empty beer mug, the waiter walking over to pick it up, smiling flirtatiously at them.

“The look that says you’re wishing for marriage and babies.” Trisha laughed, her eyes moving to follow the server as he left in his tip-collecting jeans.

“Stop staring at him. We could be his mother’s age.”

Trisha looked back at her and laughed loudly. “That’s funny. He’s like mid-twenties. What the hell? We’d have to have birthed him when we were ten, for crying out loud.” She sat back in her chair, her short blond hair a perfect bob, complementing her cute pixie-like face.

“I was a goodie-goodie in school, but you were a hooker, so you could be his mother. I’m still waiting for Mr. Right.”

Rebecca shrugged, smirking as her friend’s face changed colors and she started to lay out her opinion for all to hear. The server walked up just in time for Trisha to open her mouth. “You were not a goodie-goodie. Not at all.” She looked over at the handsome boy who was holding two beers out for them and reached for one of them, a smile on her face. “Besides, I got married right out of school, but you schlepped it up, remember?”

Rebecca reached for the other beer, shrugging her shoulders, her gaze on the handsome boy before them, who seemed to be quite interested in their conversation. “That’s true. I just dropped my last boyfriend because he couldn’t keep up with my appetites.”

The server visibly swallowed and pulled out a pad of paper, scribbling something before ripping the page off and laying it before her. “Call me.”

He walked off and Rebecca bent over in laughter, Trisha following suit.

“Things really never do change, do they?” Trisha asked, finally catching her breath and reaching for her beer.

“When it’s still this fun after all these years, why should they?”

They drank their last drink and talked through the events of the week. Trisha focused mostly on family and the house, leaving Rebecca with nothing to add there, but she did pipe up about work and Jason, their rising-star intern, who’d been with the company for about a year now. That conversation left her frustrated and uneasy when Trisha made a few pointed innuendos.

“What’s the big deal?” Trisha asked as they walked out to their respective cars, Rebecca’s blue Audi parked next to Trisha’s beat up red Honda.

“The big deal is that he’s twenty-two, Trisha. That’s honestly gross.”

“The guy at the bar was at least twenty-six. Is there a set age that’s okay?”

“Yes, and it’s honestly thirty. I’m in my mid-thirties, so the guys I date should be in their thirties too.” Rebecca pulled her keys out and hit the fob, the lights coming to life as the car made a sound of awareness.

“I don’t think age should matter.”

“Well, for me, it does. If I was graduating high school while he was still eating boogers and scraping his knee on the playground, it’s not happening.”

Trisha shook her head. “Jimmy still scrapes his knee and eats his boogers.”

Rebecca laughed and opened the door to her car. “Yes, well, your husband is a special case scenario, obviously.”

“I think you should reconsider. Women are in their prime in their thirties and men are asleep on the couch at that age.” Trisha shrugged and got into her car, waving and then closing the door.

Rebecca stood there for a minute, thinking through Trisha’s words. She looked around and realized that she was asking for trouble standing outside her car at eleven o’clock at night in the middle of a bar parking lot in downtown Houston. She slid in and locked the doors, shivering slightly at the late effects of winter.

“Dating a twenty-two year old. How ridiculous. He probably can’t even hold a conversation,” she growled, starting the car and cranking up the heater. Lionel Richie’s “All Night Long” played from the radio and she laughed. “Of course … perfect.”

The windows defrosted slowly as she moved through the city streets, her apartment sitting in the heart of mid-town, a lively area for young working people, with tons of restaurants and nightlife nestled into the community. Her thoughts moved quickly from her time with Trisha to Jason, her newest and best associate. He was far too young, in her opinion, to be thinking about, and honestly, he wasn’t her type at all.

“And what is your type? I mean really … when was the last time you dated anyone long enough to know your type?”

Kade.

She cringed internally at the thought of his name. Sixteen years had passed since high school, and yet if she had to think back to her type—it was Kade. It always would be. She almost felt sorry for her future husband. She would be comparing him and everyone else to Kade. Kade, the strong football type. The asshole that left her standing alone as he headed for the big life. Hollywood had been so much more important to him than figuring out what was between them. Not that she’d expected him to give up his dreams, but he could have kept in touch—or at least talked to her about it before he left her out in the cold.

“Screw him,” she whispered, the pain of rejection still just as ever-present in this moment as it had been all those years ago. Would she ever move past him?

She reached up and pulled the rearview mirror down, looking at herself with a stern glare. “Yes, you will. You need to start dating again, like tomorrow.”

She smiled and readjusted the mirror. She wouldn’t start dating tomorrow or the next day. Men her age and older were married, and the ones that weren’t were single for a damn good reason. It was like hoping to get picked for the kickball team and coming in dead last. It wasn’t because the rest of the kids were saving the best for last, it was because you couldn’t play the game. So those guys who were still single in their mid-thirties were either duds or were more than happy to forever be playing the game, neither of which appealed to her. That left her looking toward someone in his late twenties or late thirties.

Her mother had married someone eleven years younger when Rebecca’s father passed away, leaving Rebecca to call a man only nine years older than her Daddy. He was a great guy and definitely looked older than her mother did, so growing up with him as her father was okay, but marrying someone who went to school the same time as Dad? No thanks.