About once a month on a Friday night, I get my parents to look after Daisy so Millicent and I can hang out without the kids. Ryder is with his dad most weekends, from Friday after school until Sunday afternoon, so I know Millicent is nearly always free.
I let myself into her apartment around 6pm, not sure what the evening holds. I haven’t gone all out with my outfit, but Millicent and I are the same size in clothing, so I can always borrow her stuff if she decides we have to go somewhere fancy on a whim.
“Hey,” I say, heading into the kitchen, where my bestie is pouring two glasses of sparkling wine.
“Hey, yourself,” she says, handing me one.
“Is this fun wine or I-need-to-forget-about-the-week wine?” I ask.
She chuckles. “I guess fun wine. The week has been okay, although my boss is on at me to finish my current project. He doesn’t realise how much work is involved. I swear he thinks I just type a bunch of random characters into my internet browser and I’m suddenly inside the Reserve Bank’s intranet.”
Millicent’s job sounds quite glamorous, but it’s not. She’s a professional hacker, hired by some obscure government department to test the strength of important websites. I’m in awe of her problem-solving abilities. The extent of my knowledge in technology is social media and working with my web developer on the online ordering side of my business. And even with those, I’m not particularly savvy.
“If you wanted, could you hack into a site that protected a bunch of money and steal it without anyone noticing?” I ask.
She laughs. “Of course I could. But it’s still stealing. It wouldn’t be any different than walking into a retail shop and taking a bunch of clothing without the assistant noticing.”
“Yeah, I know. I guess I was thinking of those people who set up systems that divert a cent or two from a bunch of separate transactions into their own accounts, and then suddenly they’re millionaires.”
She shakes her head. “You watch too much TV.”
I take a sip of my wine. “So, what’s the plan tonight? You want to stay in and watch a movie? Maybe overdose on chocolate?”
“Actually, yes. But first, I’ve decided you need an online dating profile. I’m going to help you set one up.”
“Wait, what? No! Don’t I get a say in this?”
“I’m afraid not, Tash. You haven’t been on a date in forever! I mean, apart from the obvious douchey move of ditching you while you were pregnant, Brad wasn’t exactly the most romantic of people, and you were together, for what, a year? And then you were pregnant for nine months. Daisy is six now!”
“I’m well aware of my personal timeline, thank you.”
“I’m just saying, you’re thirty-five. You need to get back out there soon.”
“You mean before I hit menopause?”
“No! That’s not what I was getting at. It’s just…don’t you get lonely sometimes?”
“Actually, no. I have Daisy and work and you. I really don’t miss dating.”
“That’s probably because Brad was such a crappy partner. Imagine if you found someone nice. Someone like…Lincoln Page.”
“If both Lincoln Page and I happened to be single, then of course I would be interested. But that’s not possible. Besides, I don’t think it’s fair to Daisy for me to start dating. She needs to know she has one person completely committed to her.”
“Daisy will cope with you having a life. She’s one of the most settled children I know. Also, you don’t have to introduce anyone to her right away.”
“I’m not sure, Miss. Online dating? Isn’t that a bit desperate?”
“No! That’s the only real way to meet anyone now.”
I raise an eyebrow. “How can that be? I swear when I was a teenager and the internet was starting to get big, it was considered nerdy and shameful to meet someone online.”
She chuckles. “Times change, babe. Online is where it’s at. Look!” She types something into her phone and shows me the screen. “This site is dedicated to serious prospects. There are others where you can just arrange a casual hookup if that’s what you prefer.”
“Is there an in-between?”
She frowns and types something else. “I guess this one might suit you. It’s not all anonymous one-nighters, but I wouldn’t say the members are looking for instant marriages either.”
I sigh. “Okay, give me a look.”
She hands me the phone, and I skim through a bunch of thumbnail images of apparently desirable single men.
“Are you supposed to swipe them like in Tinder?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
I slow down and try to give each of the faces looking back at me the attention they deserve, but it’s hard to judge someone by a still photo. “You know, when I first saw a picture of George Clooney, I couldn’t understand the hype. But then I saw him in One Fine Day, and I finally got it. It’s his charisma and voice that contribute to the whole package. What happens if I miss out on one of these guys for the same reason?”
“Honey, you’re overthinking things. Just pick someone who looks nice, check out their bio, and swipe to say you’re interested. It’s not rocket science.”
“But it’s turning dating into an emotionless game!”
“It’s not. Try it and see. I swear you won’t want to go back to the old-fashioned way once you get used to it.”
“All right.” I scroll through a dozen men, none of whom grab my attention. But then I pause on a guy with long dark curly hair.
Millicent peers over my shoulder and snorts. “You only like him because his hair vaguely resembles a certain reality singing star.”
“So? Do you have a more scientific way of picking someone?”
“I guess not. If that’s what turns you on, go for it. But you’re logged in to my account. We’ll need to set one up for you first.”
I quickly glance in the mirror mounted on the wall beside us. “I look hideous right now. You can’t take a photo of me until I’ve done my hair and makeup.”
“It doesn’t work like that. You just link it to your social media account and then select some of the photos you’ve already uploaded.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“I think it’s supposed to stop people from misrepresenting themselves completely. But of course, we all know we’re not always honest on social media.”
“I am!”
“You are probably the only person in the universe who is.”
She grabs my phone and sets up an account for me. “The guys are going to love you. You’re an all-round hottie, and they’re going to drool over your hair.”
“Aw, thanks, sweetie.”
She holds up a photo of me from her birthday last year dressed in a red leather catsuit. The party had a James Bond theme. “We could use this pic?”
“No!” I screech. “They’ll think I’m into kinky stuff.”
She chuckles. “You’re right. That’s not who you really are. How about this one?”
It’s an image Millicent took of me when we were out to dinner last month. I’m wearing a tailored white shirt, showing just a hint of cleavage, and a pair of black slimline pants. Admittedly, I do look quite good there.
“All right. I give you permission to use that one.”
“Sweet.” She clicks a few more buttons. “Do you want me to fill out your bio?”
“Um, no thank you. I’ll do that myself.” I take a few minutes to write about my job and Daisy before showing Millicent.
“I wouldn’t mention Daisy up front,” she warns.
“But I have to. Otherwise, it’s false advertising!”
She rolls her eyes. “Then, at the very least, don’t call yourself a mother. That’s a huge turnoff. Write something like I share custody of a six-year-old.”
“Who am I sharing custody with?”
“It’s too complicated to say you’re a full-time working single mum, but your parents and best friend help you out with babysitting.”
“Then what should
I say?”
“Nothing! That kind of conversation should be had in person once you’ve already dazzled them with your charm.”
“I don’t know. It feels kind of deceitful.”
“It’s up to you, babe. But I’m telling you, all you need to do on your profile is show them a little about who you are. They don’t need to know everything all at once.”
I go back and forth in my head, tossing up the pros and cons.
In the end, I decide Millicent might be right. And I justify my decision by thinking that at least I won’t be attracting guys who might, heaven forbid, be interested in someone with a child for the wrong reasons.
“Okay. I’m going to take your advice.”
“I think it’s the right thing to do,” she assures me. She finalises my account and then locates the guy I liked before, swiping his image into the interested group. “There. You’ve completed your first step into the world of online dating.”
“Now what?”
“Pick a few others and wait to see if they like you back.”
“What if I get multiple?”
“Then you can date all of them. Or none. It’s up to you.”
“This is so weird.”
“It’s no weirder than approaching a random stranger in a bar and hoping for the best. At least here, you get a bit of info about them beforehand.”
“I guess.”
My phone dings. I look at the screen, and my face lights up despite my earlier reservations.
“The guy with the hair likes me back!”
Millicent laughs. “See? I knew you’d understand the appeal right away. Ask him out for a drink.”
“Not a meal?”
“No. Pick somewhere not too far away, but not so close he’ll be able to follow you home. And organise it so that if you don’t like him, you can make a quick escape.”
“So, I should text you and get you to call me with a fake emergency?”
“You can be a grown-up about it if he’s not what you’re after. But if that’s too hard, just tell him you have another appointment.”
“Oh, okay.” I tentatively type a message to my match. His name is Tomas. No H. “Do you think we should meet in the morning or afternoon?”
“I guess it depends on how eager he is to catch up. Maybe Sunday at 5pm? That keeps it casual. And then if you hit it off, you can stay out and go for dinner.”
“That makes sense.” I suggest to Tomas that we meet for a drink at a place on James Street.
He replies immediately.
Sounds good. I’ll see you there.
I hold up the phone to show her. “Look!”
“See? Easy.”
“Agh! What do I wear? What do I talk about? Are you able to look after Daisy?”
“Relax! Yes, of course I’ll look after Daisy. And you have a ton of cute clothes. We’ll figure this out. Also, I have never known you to be short for conversation topics. You’ll be fine.”
“Okay.” I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You’re right. I can do this.”
EIGHT
Lincoln
I can’t wait to get home and see the girls. As soon as I’m inside the door, I wrap them both up in a huge hug. “I missed you two little munchkins.”
“We missed you, too, Daddy. Can we get ice cream now?”
“Yes! Give me half an hour, and then we’ll go.”
Both girls give me an extra tight squeeze and then run off, discussing the flavours they’re going to order.
I find Rachel in the loungeroom, reading something on her phone.
“Hey!” I say, going over and giving her a kiss on the forehead. “I feel like I’ve hardly seen you lately.”
“That’s because you haven’t,” she says matter-of-factly.
I sit down beside her. “I’m sorry. I know this is all really crazy, but I’m going to try and make it work for everyone. I don’t want you to feel like you’re on your own, looking after the girls. In fact, I should have a lot more time now than when I was on the show, at least until the tour starts. And then after it finishes, I can basically dictate my own hours.”
“I guess.”
“Is that what’s bothering you? I mean, you seemed disappointed that I didn’t get an international tour. If I had, that would have been a lot worse.”
“But it would also have meant a lot more money. Right now, you’re just going to be getting a little more than you were for your local gigs, but you’ll be around less.”
“I…I’m not sure what to say. Do you want me to pull out of the tour? I can just go get a regular nine-to-five job if that would be easier.”
“And what would that make me, huh?” she snaps. “A dream killer?”
“Hey, hey, no. We’re a team here. We need to make sure you’re happy, too. Are you frustrated because you’re not working outside the house right now?”
Rachel did three days a week in retail before I went on Sing to Me, but she gave it up once I made it past the audition round. I had to be at the studio most days, and Rachel never knew what her schedule was going to be like more than a few weeks in advance. The twins go to pre-school twice a week, but they’re set days, so it used to be my responsibility to do the drop-off and pickup.
“No. I hated retail. But I guess I did like being able to contribute financially. Especially when your wage isn’t really enough for us to live on.”
“I haven’t got the figures for this upcoming tour, but it sounds like it will be more than enough to keep us going, at least for the rest of the year.”
“And then what?”
“I guess we just wait and see what happens after that. If things get quiet, I’ll pick up a few extra shifts at the café.”
She drags her hands down her face. “I just hate not having any stability.”
“We should talk about that. What do you need to feel stable?”
“Damn it. Why are you so calm and reasonable? You’re making me look like a crazy person!”
I stand up. Rachel gets in moods like this every now and again. All I can do is give her some space and then talk to her after she’s had time to articulate her thoughts. “I’m going to unpack and then I’m going to take the girls out. You’re welcome to come, too. We can finish the conversation then?”
“No, I think you should take them out on your own. Make up for all the time you’ve been away.”
“Okay.”
I head off to the bedroom, taking my suitcase with me.
While I love that woman, she can be hard work sometimes. But of course, all relationships require patience and understanding. I’m probably just tired from the events of the last few days. Weeks, even.
I’m sure everything will return to normal soon.
***
It’s so good to get outside with the girls and just be a dad. I tie my hair back and wear a baseball cap to try and avoid having anyone recognise me, but most people are cool anyway. I notice a couple of passers-by do a double-take, but I think they keep their distance because I’m with my family.
I help the girls climb on the rope spiderweb at the South Bank playground, and we dip our toes in the water at the artificial beach. It’s almost warm enough to go swimming, but I didn’t think to bring our swimsuits. At least the twins don’t mind walking around town. Normally, I wouldn’t be able to get them to go for more than ten minutes at a time, but they suck it up, knowing that the reward is their favourite gelato. I buy them each a cup: Isabella with strawberry, and Madison with salted coconut and mango salsa. Madison has always been the more adventurous of the two girls.
We sit in the corner of the store looking out the window, and I think about my conversation with Rachel earlier. I really have no idea what to do. I wonder if there’s something else bothering her that she’s not saying. I know she grew up without a lot of money, but she’s never complained about our lack of funds before. The girls have never gone without anything, and while I guess we can’t afford fancy overseas trips or a big house, we get
by. At least we own our place, and we don’t have a huge mortgage. I bought the property when I got ‘famous’ the first time. It was probably the smartest thing I’ve ever done.
I’ll just have to keep Rachel up to date with all the tour plans, and make sure she feels like she’s being heard. If she wants to go and study for a new career or get another job, we’ll make that work.
We head home a couple of hours later. Rachel is still on the couch.
“I want to apologise for earlier,” I say.
She gives me a small smile. “I’m sorry, too. I know I sounded like a spoilt brat, but life has been kind of tough lately. I feel like I’m losing myself.”
“You have the strongest identity of nearly anyone I know, Rach. There is no way you will ever fade into the background.”
She holds out her arms, and I sink into them.
“You always know the right thing to say,” she says.
“I try. But we’ll figure out a solution, so you feel like you’re also getting your needs met. Do you want to do some study? Or get a different job?”
“I’ll think about it and get back to you.”
The girls see us hugging and run over to jump on top.
“Sandwich hug!” I call out. The girls squish into the middle, and we stay like that for ages.
This is my happy place.
NINE
Tash
I’m not sure about this dating thing.
I’m standing outside the bar waiting for Tomas, and I’ve almost changed my mind and left about twenty times in the last five minutes. I probably shouldn’t have gotten here so early. The whole fashionably late thing never felt quite right to me, but it would have helped my nerves tonight.
I fiddle with my earrings and check my reflection in the window, smoothing down my hair. I decided to keep my outfit simple, with a white shell top, a long yellow chiffon skirt, and strappy gold heels.
Just as I’m contemplating escape again, he appears. He’s shorter than I expected, and his hair is nothing like Lincoln’s in real life. While Lincoln’s is thick and ringlet-y, this guy’s is kind of thin and straggly. Still, that’s not his fault. I shouldn’t be so judgy.
My Own Personal Rockstar Page 5