The bartender grinned. “Whatever you want, mama,” he said and filled her drink to the brim. The Twisted Nook was a literary-themed coffee shop by day, tavern by night.
Holly preferred this place because it smelled more like books than alcohol, it catered to an older crowd, and Holly occasionally ran into a student from her English class. Still, as she twisted the straw in her drink, she found her eyes straying to her watch. It was still early enough that she could go home and finish grading her finals if she left now. But, as Alice said, no one grades finals on their birthday, so here she was. Stirring.
“You hear that?” Alice said, turning to Holly. “Whatever I want. So.” She set Holly’s phone back in front of her. “Sign up.”
The site in question? An app called MeetYourMate. Alice had downloaded it onto Holly’s phone and her screen was now littered with pictures of happy couples with wedding rings. Holly pushed a strand of long ginger hair behind her ear distractedly and said, “Online dating really isn’t my thing.”
“It’s not online dating,” Alice protested, scrolling. “It’s online marriage. Look. Tired of waiting for love? Can’t stand one-night stands? Looking for a lifetime commitment? Holly, this is you to a T. You’ve got to sign up. If you don’t, I will.”
“What will Brad say?” Holly laughed.
“What Brad doesn’t know could fill a dictionary,” Alice smirked.
Alice would find a man on there in seconds, Holly thought. Even with three boys under her belt, Alice had kept her body fit. Holly had no excuses—no kids, single, and still overweight. More to love, as some would say. She had the complete hourglass with tits the size of melons, but as far as she was concerned, they’d done nothing but give her back problems and attract the wrong kind of man (Chris had been a tit man and loved to motorboat them, which had made her laugh at first but then just felt humiliating and did absolutely nothing for her. She was really in the market for an ass man these days).
Alice tapped the screen of her phone with a sharp, manicured nail. Only in California did mothers of three somehow find time to keep up with the salon religiously. “You hear that? Ticktock,” Alice said. “That’s your biological clock.”
Holly groaned and covered her eyes with her hands. “You’re impossible. Okay, okay. Look.” She leaned over the phone and clicked away at the keypad. Entered her date of birth. Her name. Then asked, “What should my username be?”
“Give it here,” Alice said, snatching the phone back. She typed something in and then slid it over to Holly. Holly laughed.
“Apples4Days? What does that even mean?”
“You know, because you’re a teacher? And because you’ve got”—Alice cupped her small tits—“apples for days.”
Maybe if those apples were genetically modified to feed a small town, Holly thought. She set down her phone and said, “There. Done. Now can we talk about real things? Did I tell you about the history professor?”
“Don’t try to distract me, you didn’t do a profile picture.” Alice lifted her phone, aimed the camera at Holly, and said, “Smile.”
Holly pulled a cheesy grin with two thumbs up. As soon as the camera flashed, she felt a blush rise in her cheeks. Great. The first thing her potential husband-to-be would see was her acting like a dork with a glass of alcohol in front of her. Bad first impression.
Not that she was thinking about this in any real way. Not that she cared. I’ll just take the profile down as soon as I get home, she thought.
Holly nibbled on her straw distractedly and Alice said, “Alright, so what about the history professor?”
Right. Back to the real world. Holly straightened up and said, “The history professor—Duncan—is leaving. Which means they’ve got a spot open for tenure.”
Alice gasped and clutched Holly’s arm. “You think they’ll give it to you?”
Holly shrugged, trying to appear casual about it. “It’d be nice.”
“Oh God, they have to. You’ve been there longer than anyone. You’re amazing with the kids. I know Scott would be living out of a cardboard box if it weren’t for the education you gave him. Not that I’d put my own son on the street. Probably.”
Holly brushed it off. The compliments, though sweet, made her want to hide under the bar. “We’ll see,” she said vaguely.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” Alice asked.
Holly stirred her drink with the stem of her small paper umbrella. “Um…Chris is taking me out to dinner. I’m not sure if his kids are coming or not.”