Nine First Dates

by Jennifer Ryder

  Seth stands and paces in front of me. “How much longer?” he grumbles, arms folded.

  I pull the wad of bloodied tissues from my nose. It looks like the bleeding has finally stopped, but I can barely breathe.

  “You don’t have to wait around, you know.” Actually, I’d prefer it if you left. It’d be much more peaceful. “I can get a lift.”

  He looks around the half-empty waiting room. He’s copped some filthy looks from other people since we arrived. I’ve had to explain more than once that it was an accident, but from some of the solemn looks my way, I get the feeling I’m being viewed at as a victim of domestic violence.

  Seth’s shoulders drop and he sits opposite me. He almost looks like he actually feels guilty. He is yet to apologise. I don’t even think it’s even crossed his mind that he should.

  His phone dings in his pocket. He mutters to himself and shakes his head as he puts the phone back.

  “Some place you need to be?” I ask.

  He rubs at his neck. “I was supposed to be at the Raiders game. Got box seat tickets.”

  Son. Of. A. Monkey.

  I stand and walk over to him until we are toe to toe. I grind my teeth. “Just. Go,” I bite out.

  His phone rings.

  I drill him with a look of pure hatred. If you reach for that phone, Imma kill you …

  Seth shoves his hand in his pocket. He pulls out the device and slides his finger across the bottom of the screen.

  He holds it to his ear. “Yo,” he says, and walks in the direction of the main entrance. “Yeah, I’m on my way. You wouldn’t believe the shit I’ve had to deal with.”

  Keep walking, Joker, because if I ever see you again, it will involve my fist pummelling your face.

  “Abbie Michaels,” a short lady dressed in pale-blue scrubs calls out.

  I walk towards her. She’s hugging a clipboard to her chest. As I approach, her eyes narrow. “Ooh, looks like a nasty one,” she says.

  She could very well be talking about my date.

  “You should see the other guy,” I joke.

  “I’m Janet. Let’s see if we can’t get you back in one piece.” She places her arm around my shoulder and ushers me through a series of hallways until we reach a bed. “Sit back. The doctor won’t be long.”

  I climb onto the bed and stuff a pillow behind my head. “Thanks.”

  She swishes a curtain around us. “Before he assesses you, I just need to run through your personal details.”

  “Sure.”

  She asks me everything except my aunt’s middle name, marking off items on her paperwork.

  Before too long, a stocky man in a white coat appears. He takes the clipboard from Janet and sits on the end of the bed. “I’m Doctor Nolan. Let me guess—contact sports?” he says and smiles.

  I chuckle. “I wish. Try first date gone bad.”

  His smile drops. “Oh. Have you spoken with the police?”

  “Oh, no. It’s nothing like that. It was a stupid accident. To make matters worse, he tried to fix it.”

  He stands and places his hand over my closest hand. “Hmm, Janet, we need some local anaesthetic before I can start my examination and some pain relief.” She disappears behind the curtain, no doubt in search of a steely sharp implement to stab me with.

  “No,” I choke out. “No needles. I’ll be okay. I can take some more Panadol or something.”

  “Oh, Abbie. Trust me when I say that simply touching it at this point is going to be excruciating. That’s before I attempt to realign the bone. We’ll get you some stronger pain relief too.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut. Tears leak down my face. “I’m never dating again.”

  A warm hand curls over my shoulder, bringing instant comfort. I should’ve rung Mum earlier. When I open my eyes, Janet is standing beside me with kind grey eyes. The crow’s feet at the sides of her eyes deepen as she smiles. “That’d be a great tragedy.”

  I sit up. “I’m a tragedy,” I mumble and take the plastic cup of water and tablets she offers. I swallow the pills and lie back.

  The doctor takes a needle from a small kidney-shaped dish. “You’ll just feel a little pinch,” he says like it’s nothing.

  I screw my eyes shut and take deep breaths in and out through my mouth. Go to your happy place, Abbie. Get there—fast. A hand squeezes mine. Bless you, Janet.

  I grit my teeth and squeeze Janet’s fingers with a vice grip. The doctor inserts the needle.

  Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow.

  Some pinch.

  They have to do this, Abbie. Deal with it.

  “Okay,” the doctor says. “We’ll give it a little time to kick in, and then let’s see what we’re working with.”

  Before too long, the doctor is back. He makes lots of “ooh” and “ahh” noises as he pokes and prods my face. I can no longer feel my nose, but the sensation of his touch is still there. He nods to Janet. She disappears from view, as if that nod gave her clear telepathic instructions.

  “Okay, Abbie,” the doctor chimes. “The good news is it’s not as bad as it looks. You don’t need surgery.”

  “Well, that’s a relief,” I say.

  “Well, not immediately anyway. The plan from here is that I’m going to be using a tool called a speculum. It’s going to help me align the bones and ensure the cartilage is where it needs to be.”

  “Is it going to hurt?”

  “Let’s put it one way. It won’t tickle, but I’ll top up the local anaesthetic, so you feel as little as possible.”

  I take in a deep breath and summon all my courage as I blow it out through pursed lips.

  “Okay, I’m ready.”

  ***

  “All done,” the doctor says, handing me a script and helping me to my feet. It’s hard to look at him straight with the splint and dressing plastered to my face.

  The very minute I see my reflection I just know I’m going to turn to water.

  I bet Seth’s glad he ran when he did.

  “Thanks, Doctor. For everything.”

  He smiles. “Happy to help. I know it’s going to be uncomfortable for a while. I’ve packed one of your nostrils. You need to make sure you keep the packing in for at least a week.”

  “A week? Are you sure?”

  He nods. “Yes, but the antibiotics will help against any infections.”

  Gross.

  The doctor places his hand on my shoulder. “In three or four days, once the swelling has gone down, go and see your GP. Don’t wait any longer than that, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “I think you’re out of the woods, but if we have a severe break on our hands, you may need corrective surgery.”

  I straighten my spine and try to stave off the tears threatening to fall. Please God, don’t let it come to that.

  The doctor swishes back the curtain. Janet is waiting. “Abbie, I’ve organised a medical certificate in case you need it for work.” She hands me a folded piece of paper.

  I won’t be allowed near any weddings until this is fixed. Strictly office work ahead, I’m guessing. “You’re the best. Thank you. Sorry if I hurt your hand.”

  Janet laughs. “You’re fine, dear.” She ushers me through the corridors back to the main entrance.

  I can’t call Will to collect me, because he’ll go next-level apeshit. He wouldn’t care if it was an accident. One look at my beaten face and he wouldn’t have waited for an explanation before he hunted down Seth and got some payback.

  I dial Mum’s number. I’ll have to explain when I get home, so I might as well get it over with. It’s days like these I wish I could afford to move out.

  “Abbie,” she chirps.

  Just the sound of her voice has me about to burst into tears. “Mum,” I say and breathe in deep.

  “How’d the date go?”

  “I need you to come and pick me up—”

  “What’s wrong with your voice?” she barks.

  “I’m okay now, just need you to come to Canberra
Hospital. Near the emergency entrance.”

  “Oh, darling. I’m on my way.” Keys jingle in the background. “What in God’s name happened?”

  Douchnozzle Seth happened.

  I walk past a sea of faces full of sympathy.

  “It’s a long story. Tell you on the ride home. Just don’t say anything to Will.”

  Chapter Five – ZACHARY

  End of April

  “I was talking to Lynn at work today,” Mum says, a sly look on her face as we sit across from each other at dinner. She’s been busting to set me up with someone. After seeing the bruises the last guy was responsible for, not to mention the broken nose, no doubt she’s been on the lookout for a man who will treat me better. Not that that’d be hard.

  After the few months I’ve had, maybe I need to try something different. Maybe it’s time to let her set me up. What’s the worst that can happen?

  “That’s nice. Tell me about him.”

  Mum’s eyes widen. “Him?” she squeaks.

  “Yes. Him.”

  She laughs. “His name is Zachary. He’s Lynn’s youngest son. Very nice.”

  After Seth, I definitely need a dose of nice. “How old is he?”

  “Same age as you, I think. He’s in IT or something like that. Smart man.”

  Does that mean he’ll be too nerdy to hold a conversation? Is he chronically shy? “Why’s he single?”

  She shrugs. “Maybe he hasn’t found the right one. He hasn’t met my talented daughter, so there is that.”

  I laugh. “Hmm, well, I guess you’re right.”

  “He came into the office the other day to drop flowers off to Lillian for her birthday. He’s funny. Good-looking too.”

  He treats his mother with respect. That certainly says something about him, but there’s one thing I have to know before I agree to anything. “Is he a mummy’s boy?” Is Lynn going to try and crash our date?

  Mum scoffs. “Oh, not at all. He’s very independent. He’s his own man. Has an apartment on Kingston Foreshore.”

  I take my phone from my pocket and open up Facebook.

  Mum’s cutlery chimes against the side of her plate. “Abbie, you know the rules about phones at dinner.”

  I shrug. “Yeah, but this is important. What’s his last name?”

  “Chang.”

  I turn the phone and show Mum the results of my search.

  She squints and then she nods. “The second one. Pretty sure he went to Canberra University.”

  I open the profile and take a look. He’s definitely cute. Smooth skin, styled black hair. With biceps like that, he definitely works out. He looks far from an IT nerd.

  Zachary has more than five hundred friends. A lot of his friends are active on his posts, and he loves to share photos from regular dinners out with mates.

  Smart, funny, easy on the eye, good with finances, and appears to be a foodie.

  How can I say no?

  I pick my fork and stab a piece of broccoli and munch on it.

  “Well?”

  I stare into her eyes as I finish my mouthful. “You can pass on my number.”

  Mum stands, jogs around the table, and wraps her arms around my shoulders. She kisses the top of my head. “Wonderful. I’ll ring Lynn after dinner.”

  ***

  When Zachary suggested Morks Restaurant at Kingston Foreshore, I couldn’t reply fast enough. The panang curry sweet potato dumplings they make are simply heaven.

  Dressed in a sharp dark blue shirt and mustard pants, Zachary is waiting just near the front door of the restaurant. He doesn’t seem so cute anymore. He’s hot, in that boy-next-door kind of way.

  He greets me with a smile. “Abbie?”

  When we stand close enough, I extend my hand. “Nice to meet you, Zachary.”

  “Please, call me Zac.” He shakes my hand and presses his hand to the small of my back, guiding me towards the door. “Only my mum calls me that and it drives me nuts.”

  Yeah, he’s no mummy’s boy.

  Tick.

  The waitress shows us to our table. Zac stands behind me and tucks in my chair.

  Gentlemen.

  Tick.

  He sits opposite me and leans back, allowing the waitress to lay a white napkin across his lap. “I have to say, that dress really suits you.”

  I bought my black-and-peach-coloured floral dress just the other day, and now I feel like the purchase is justified. Zac definitely gets points for the compliment.

  “Looking pretty sharp yourself.” Not many people can pull off mustard.

  The young brunette waitress explains the menu, and we decide on the banquet and a bottle of Riesling.

  Our glasses are promptly filled. I take a sip, letting the wine roll around my mouth as I summon some courage. I swallow. Okay, Abbie. Let’s do this. It’s time to put myself out there once more.

  “Tell me about yourself, Abbie?” Zac asks and sits forward in his chair. He rests his elbows on the table and his chin on his joined hands.

  Straight off the mark he wants to hear about me. I have his undivided attention.

  Tick.

  “I work for Black Tie, an events company. Have you heard of it?”

  “Actually, I have. I think they put on a charity ball that I went to a couple of years ago.”

  “Cool. Yeah, we do a lot of corporate fundraisers, but we seem to be doing more weddings lately.”

  He takes a sip of his wine and places it down. “Ah, weddings. If my mother had her own way, I’d be married already.”

  I raise my glass and hold it out towards him. “So, no pressure then.”

  He laughs as he clinks his glass with mine.

  “My mum said you work in IT?”

  “Kind of. I work for a graphic design company, but my main focus is web design.”

  “That sounds awesome. Do you love it?”

  “Yeah, I work with some great people.” He tilts his head to one side. “I hear you’ve had a bit of a shocker with dating this year. Did you really get robbed?”

  Bloody hell. Has my mum shared everything about my failed dates with Lynn?

  “Yeah, but it’s not as bad as it sounds. He didn’t hold me at knifepoint or anything. He just rifled through my handbag when I was taking an important call.”

  He chuckles. “Damn. Is that all.”

  “Yeah, well the last guy topped that. He broke my nose.”

  Zac chokes on his wine. “He what?”

  I hold up my hands in front of me and laugh. “No, no, it’s not what you think. It was an accident.”

  “How?”

  I laugh. Thank God I can laugh now. “I tripped—he tried to save me but headbutted me in the process. There was blood everywhere. It was bent and I couldn’t breathe properly. The problem was he tried to fix it.”

  He shakes his head and his dark brows pull together. “And I’m guessing he’s not a doctor?”

  “Far from it. Anyway, I had to have it re-broken in emergency. Thankfully, eight weeks later, I’m looking more like myself.”

  He narrows his eyes and looks at my face from a few angles.

  “They did a good job. If you hadn’t have told me, I would’ve never known.” Like you knew what I looked like before.

  “Yeah, well, lucky for him.”

  “Your dad must’ve been furious when he found out. Did he kick his arse?”

  Oh, no. Surely he knows about my dad?

  “My dad passed a few years ago.”

  Zac slaps his palm against his smooth forehead and stares down at his food. “Shit, I’m sorry.” He glances up at me through his long lashes. “I knew that. Why would I say that?”

  “It’s okay. If he were here, I’d like to think he would’ve opened up a can of whoop-ass. He always used to say corny stuff like that.”

  A silence draw between us. “I lost my dad too,” he admits.

  My heart squeezes tight in my chest. Why wouldn’t Mum mention that to me? I could’ve put my foot in it too.


  “I’m sorry. It sucks, huh?”

  “Yeah, sure does.”

  ***

  As we tackle course after course, indulging in wine after wine, we talk about our fathers. Where his sounds like he was very strict and regimented in his ways, mine was the polar opposite—relaxed, as long as he got to go fishing every once in a while.

  I don’t normally talk about my father, but it’s been nice to open up about him, remember the things he used to do for me, for us. Our family get-togethers, camping trips, fishing for hours on end without a bite.

  Whilst I lost my dad suddenly, I couldn’t imagine watching him wither and die in a hospital bed like Zac’s did. Fork you, cancer.

  “You seem like a nice person, Abbie,” Zac says and rests his elbows on the edge of the table. He steeples his fingers in front of his lips.

  “Um, thanks. You too.” I’m sensing a ‘but’ here. He doesn’t feel a spark. I’m not really getting one either, but don’t they say that relationships can be built on friendships? We seem very comfortable for two people who’ve just met.

  “I have to be honest with you.”

  “Okay. I certainly appreciate honesty.”

  “I came on this date to get my mother off my back.”

  My shoulders drop. Yeah, he’s not feeling it.

  He reaches across the table and grips my closest hand. “Shit. Sorry. That came out wrong. You’re fabulous, it’s just—” He takes in a deep breath and slowly exhales.

  I squeeze his hand. “I can take it,” I say and offer him a supportive smile. “Promise.”

  He nods once and pulls his shoulders closer to his ears. “Abbie, I’m gay.”

  My mouth drops open. He is? “Are you sure?” The words leave my mouth before I know it. Too much wine.

  He chuckles. “Ah, yeah. I’m sure.”

  “How long have you known?”

  “All my life.”

  A male waiter stands close to our table. “Can I offer you a sweeter wine to match your dessert?”

  “Yes,” Zac and I say one after the other.

  “Jinx!” I cry out.

  We both laugh.

  The waiter clears the table. “I’ll be right back. Dessert shouldn’t be far away.”