Damaged Goods by Lauren Gallagher Read Free Book Online Page B

assume?”
    “Yes.” I stood, extending a hand. “You must be Bill.”
    “I am.” We shook hands and took our seats. “I am so sorry I"m late. My son
    called and needed me to walk him through something on his math homework, and I
    didn"t realize the call had taken me so long.” He made a flustered gesture and shook
    his head. “And then I was in such a hurry to get on the road and get here, I forgot I
    hadn"t put your number in my phone.”
    And with that, the man is redeemed.
    “It"s okay.” I smiled. “Kids come first; I know how it goes.”
    At that, he released a breath and relaxed a little. “They do, don"t they?”
    “Always.” I folded my arms on the table and leaned on them. “Mine have to call
    their dad for help on math homework too. It never has been my best subject.”
    “My son would do fine with it if he worked at it.” He rolled his eyes. “Doesn"t
    help that his mother coddles him when it comes to his schoolwork.”
    Ripping on your ex before we’ve even ordered. Lose two points.
    “Oh,” I said. “Well, I—”
    “The thing is, the kid"s sharp as a tack,” Bill said. “If he"d put the effort in like
    his brother, he"d easily be a straight-A student.”
    “Maybe math just isn"t his strong point,” I said drily.

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    Lauren Gallagher

    “Maybe not, but it"s not as weak as he likes to think it is.” He sighed. “My ex-
    wife is convinced he has a learning disability. The only disability he has is learning
    to sit down and study.” He laughed. I didn"t.
    Ripping on your own kid. Disqualification.
    At least he didn"t spend the entire evening criticizing his offspring"s every
    shortcoming, but he talked about his ex-wife more than himself. Though his profile
    picture matched his appearance, he"d left “ranting about the ex-wife"s every
    imperfection” out of the hobbies-and-interests section. I tried to steer the
    conversation toward less incendiary subjects, but somehow she kept creeping back
    into it, along with her infidelities during their marriage, her inability to cook like
    his mother did, and the way her body was never the same after she had his
    children.
    Well, aren’t you just a prime catch, Bill?
    This date couldn"t be over fast enough, and after dinner, a promise to call, and
    a tactfully dodged good-night kiss, I resisted the urge to ask for his ex"s phone
    number so I could have coffee and commiserate. Instead, I went home for a glass of
    wine that wasn"t soured by unpleasant conversation.
    Sipping my wine in the silent darkness of my empty living room, I closed my
    eyes. Not every date was like this, not every guy had the kind of deal-breaking flaws
    as Bill, but every one of them left me with this same empty, discouraged feeling.
    This teeth-grinding “what the fuck was the point of that?” frustration. Did it ever
    get better?
    Michael and I had married right out of high school, and jumping into the adult
    dating world in my late twenties had been a rude awakening. One that hadn"t
    presented me with a hell of a lot of hope. If I could connect with someone enough to
    even get a date out of it—meaning he didn"t balk at the fact that I had children—
    then something happened, or didn"t happen, to make the date a dud. Every date left
    me wondering why the hell I bothered anymore.
    And lately, to frustrate me just a little more, every date, every good-night kiss
    cooling on my lips, every empty promise to call me, every one-night stand riding off
    into the sunset, had as its backbeat the rhythmic banging of a phantom headboard
    against a pastel wall beneath a bland watercolor painting.

    Damaged Goods

    29

    Chapter Five

    On Friday, one of my coworkers, Janie, caught up with me on my way out of
    the millionth staff meeting this week. She fell into step beside me in the hallway.
    “You going out for drinks with us tonight?” she asked.
    I shook my head. “Can"t. I have the kids.”
    “Oh, damn,” she said. “Well, we"re all going out to lunch too. You want