Chat Love (4 page)

He leaned back on the couch and stared at me. “What I want is just to have fun. I thought that’s what we were doing. Wasn’t it?”

“We are. I just …” my voice trailed off. “Never mind. We’re having fun; that’s what we’re doing.” The buzzer signaled the arrival of our food and Kellan got up to answer it. I felt a sense of dread, knowing that I’d just signed off on a doomed arrangement, but still hopeful that Kellan would prove me wrong. I thought that if I just stood by him and showed him that I could be understanding and fun, without pressuring him into anything, then perhaps he would eventually want me to be his girlfriend.

Kellan Fields was a year older and was an international investment banker, so I understood that he was under a lot of pressure at work. I didn’t, however, understand how that pressure affected us. We hung out, went out, had sex, and had no problems with cuddling, but he didn’t want a real relationship or to call me his girlfriend. I wasted two years on Kellan, trying to show him how supportive and amazing I could be, but he never mentioned taking the next step. I would date other men to no avail, unable to keep my mind from thinking of Kellan and how in love with him I was. I told him about my dates, hoping it might make him jealous, but he didn’t care, instead shrugging it off and telling me that I should go find myself a nice guy.

One evening, while having dinner with a happy and single Danni, she gave me the book
He’s Just Not That Into You
, telling me I needed to read it, to
really
read it and that I would understand why once I’d finished it. She told me I needed to learn. I spent that entire night awake, reading intently.

After I finished the book, I felt a new sense of power. I had knowledge, and with that knowledge I gained understanding. But with this new knowledge also came humiliation, as I realized just how foolish I had been. I felt like I had been slapped, causing me to snap awake from the idealistic trance I’d been in for the past two years. After reading that book, I was on a mission, determined to talk to Kellan and explain my true feelings without allowing him to once again talk me into backing down.

The next night, I met Kellan at his apartment as usual; he was already dressed in his lounge pants, surely expecting our usual romp between the sheets. I walked past him when he let me in his apartment, my head held high. He walked into his bedroom, expecting me to follow, but I just stood in the kitchen with my jacket still on and my hands planted firmly on my hips. After a minute, he came back out of his room, obviously confused.

“Lucia, what are you doing?” he asked.

I took a deep breath, going over my prepared speech. “We need to talk.
“Not a bad opening, keep going,
I urged myself, surprised at how difficult this already was.

“OK, we can talk after.” His nonchalance infuriated me.

Through clenched teeth I said, “No, we need to talk
now
.”

Kellan rolled his eyes out of frustration and moved past me to sit on the couch, leaning back with his arms crossed in front of his chest. “Fine, talk.”

I had this sudden urge to punch him in the face, right where his cocky smirk usually sat. He was looking at me as if I was bothering him, like I was a nuisance. “Kellan, what are we doing?”

“I thought we were talking.” He let out another frustrated sigh.

I balled my fists, fighting the frustrated tears beginning to well up inside of me.

“What’s wrong? Are you getting your period?” he asked. “I mean, you seem like you’re in a bad mood or something.”

Sometimes, humans reach a certain point of endurance at which they snap. At that moment in the evening, I snapped. “Of
course
I’m in a bad mood, Kellan! I’m in a bad mood because I’m sick of this!” My hands moved wildly in the air while I yelled, accentuating my words. “What the hell are we doing? Do you have any feelings for me at all? Do you even want to be with me? I can’t do this anymore. I can’t waste my time on someone that doesn’t want to be with me, or can’t even be bothered to
consider
a future with me.” I felt tears fall from my eyes and I wiped them away harshly, angry with myself for revealing any weakness.

He put his head down in his hands and roughly rubbed his face, his muscles visibly tensing. After a minute of uncomfortable silence he looked up at me, and I could see the answer written on his face.

After that night, I have not spoken to or seen Kellan. I did hear, however, that he met someone shortly after we’d ended things, and that they’re now engaged. I guess he finally found someone he could commit to.

It has been a year since then and I’m ready to commit; I’m at a point where I’d like to settle down, get married, and have kids. When did it become so hard to make that happen? My parents found each other as teenagers; why can’t it be that easy for me?

I feel stuck and lost. I have no idea how I’m supposed to meet my Mr. Right. Am I meant to be one of those women who focus only on their career, forever without a man to stand beside them? Will I finally meet someone in my thirties or forties, only to discover that it’s too late for me to have kids? Will I be alone forever?

The next day, I get off the Long Island Railroad, dressed casually in a pair of baggy jeans, looking forward to visiting my sister at her house in Plainview. Tony, my brother-in-law, is waiting for me at the train station. He is a decent guy, and he kisses my sister’s ass, so my family loves him. At five foot nine, with tanned skin, bulging muscles, and tattoos covering his arms and back, Tony looks like a typical tough guy. However, he quickly has me in a hug and begins babbling. In typical Italian fashion, he talks with his hands, even more than I do. Tony’s family owns several successful Italian restaurants on Long Island, and he can afford for Gabriella to stay home and be a housewife.

“So how’s the
Sex and the City
life?” he asks with a grin.

“Not nearly as exciting as you’d think.”

As he unlocks the car, Tony asks, “So when am I going to get a brother-in-law to hang out with?”

There it is: the same question I hear from Tony every time I see him. I playfully say, “Tony, you don’t want me to meet anyone because then they would be my parents’ favorite.”

We laugh for a few minutes and talk about baseball for the rest of the car ride to the house. I am a huge Yankees fan, while Tony is a Mets fan; a bickering banter about our teams and players is natural. I was a daddy’s girl so I’d first become a baseball fan to get closer to my father, who loved the Yankees. We watched every game together and I’d quickly grown to love the sport myself.

My parents own a successful Italian restaurant, where they make and serve their own wine, tomato sauce, mozzarella, pasta, and desserts. When my sister and I were younger, we worked in the restaurant and discussed taking over the business after high school, which is what our parents wanted. Instead I chose to go to NYU while my sister stayed home to continue working at the restaurant. She’d been there ever since, and I’d stayed in Manhattan.

As we pull up in front of their house, I can’t help but smile at the setting. It is the perfect starter home: a small, two-story brick house with a two-door garage and pool, ideal for a budding family. Tony opens the front door and I’m immediately greeted by the delicious smell of my sister’s cooking. Tony takes my coat and I make my way to the kitchen to see Gabriella, my mother, and my father working vigorously, preparing what is supposed to be a quick lunch that now resembles a four-course meal. Being Italian, our family meals are rarely quick. Every occasion involves a meal: celebrations, announcements, fights, and serious discussions. I have had some of my deepest conversations while simultaneously stuffing my face.

My father is a short man, with a little beer belly, a pointy nose, a graying mustache, and a balding head. My mother is tiny and round, with short brown hair and a round, expressive face. My gorgeous sister has my mother’s face, long brown hair, and eyes like mine. Gabriella has a curvier body—she has larger breasts and a shapely butt, while I have a thinner frame.

My mother turns toward the entrance of the kitchen and sees me, giving me one of her warm smiles. She wipes her hands on her apron and walks over to me with open arms. In her faint Italian accent she calls me by my full name, Lucia Pia, and hugs me close to her body, her head resting on my shoulder. I look past my mother and see my father looking at me with sad eyes. Confused, I open my mouth to ask why, when out of the corner of my eye I see Tony embrace Gabriella, caressing her stomach. I suddenly feel dizzy, knowing now why my sister asked us to come over for lunch. I let go of my mother and walk to my father, giving him a kiss on the cheek. He hums his hello to me and turns back to the stove to finish making lunch. I see a bottle of my parents’ wine on the table and pour myself a glass, knowing I will need it to make it through this particular meal. I ask if anyone else would like a glass and Gabriella declines, a sly grin on her face.

By the time lunch is ready, I’ve been talking about Autumn’s romantic involvement for quite a while. My parents are listening intently, while Tony and Gabriella look on quietly, warm smiles on their faces. We are sitting at the kitchen table, my father and Tony at the head with my mother sitting across from Gabriella and I. While we continue talking, my sister gets up and prepares everyone’s first dish with spaghetti and meatballs. As she hands me my plate, I sigh with frustration and give my father my meatballs.

“What’s wrong with my meatballs?” Gabriella asks me while rolling her eyes.

With an exasperated tone I answer her, “You know I don’t eat meat.”

She turns to Tony and gives him a look, “Oh, right. You’re still doing that?”

I narrow my eyes at her and grab the bottle of wine, pouring more into my glass. “Gabby, you sure you don’t want a glass? Dad made it so well; it’s delicious.” She gives me a look of annoyance. I continue playing dumb, deciding to up the ante a little bit. “I just think it’s odd that you don’t want a glass, since you’re usually the first one to open the bottle. Why would that be? Do you have anything to tell us?”

Tony chokes on a mouthful of spaghetti, and my mother leaps up to pat his back. My brother-in-law, now red-faced, looks up at my sister with nervous eyes. She winks at him, stands up, and looks at my parents. “Daddy, Mommy, Lucia is right. I do have to tell you something.” She looks at Tony and grabs his hand. “
We
have to tell you something.” I can see my mother’s mouth hanging open with anticipation. After a dramatic pause, Gabriella finally says, “I’m pregnant!”

My mother leaps up from her chair to hug Gabriella and Tony while my father looks at me and shakes his head, clearly disappointed that I wasn’t the one to make this announcement. In his mind, I should have been the first one pregnant.

Before rising to hug everyone, I take my glass of wine and down the whole thing in one gulp. I hug a proud Tony, whispering my congratulations. I move on to Gabby, and she gives me a hard hug as she whispers in my ear, “Soon it will be your turn.”

While everybody continues crying and hugging, I polish off another glass of wine, waiting to resume eating lunch. As soon as we’re all seated again my mother returns to interrogating me about Autumn’s romantic luck.

“Does Autumn have a boyfriend?”

I sigh. “Not a boyfriend, but she’s been on a couple of dates with the same guy, and she really likes him.”

My father asks me in his thick Italian accent, “Why can’t you meet anyone? You are just as pretty and smart as Autumn, plus you’re Italian. Men love Italian women!”

My mother nods her head in agreement. “It’s true, Lucia Pia. Italian women are known to be very warm, we can cook as well.”

Gabriella teases, “Are you sure you don’t want me to introduce you to any of Tony’s friends?”

Tony chimes in excitedly, “You know, Lucia, my friend Angelo won’t stop asking about you.”

My mother claps her hands in excitement while my father slaps my arm. “See, Tony has a nice friend for you. It’s wrong for a woman your age to be single.”

I throw my hands up in frustration. “Dad, I’m twenty-seven. I’m not that old.”

“Yes, but you’re going to be twenty-eight this year,” my father retorts. He looks up at Tony, “Give your friend Lucia’s number.” I open my mouth to decline but my father interrupts me. “One date, Lucia. You just go on one date with him.”

My mother serves herself some chicken and asks, “Lucia Pia, how did Autumn meet her boyfriend?”

I finish my third glass of wine. “Mom, I told you, he’s not her boyfriend, but to answer your question, she met him on Chat Love.”

I see my parents’ confused faces; they’re clearly not up-to-date regarding the latest trends and technology. Tony and Gabriella are trying to conceal their snickers as I shoot them a confused glance. My father suggests, “You should go there sometime and meet a nice young man like Autumn did.”

“You don’t want her to do that, Daddy. Then she’ll be the embarrassment of the family,” Gabriella says with a chuckle.

Tony adds in, “Chat Love is for geeks and social retards who can’t meet anyone normally.”

Gabriella finishes, “Yeah, and those dating sites don’t work; it’s all a scam.”

Frustrated by their negativity, I argue, “That’s not true. Autumn has met several great guys and my friend Skyler is getting married this year to a man she met on Chat Love.”

“Skyler? That pretty black girl you introduced me to when I visited you at work? “my sister asks skeptically. I nod, and her eyes open wide with surprise.

Skyler Williams is an associate producer for the
Big Apple Morning Show
, a news and entertainment morning show that I work for as a talent scout. She is beautiful, with mocha-colored skin, long black hair, big brown eyes, and plump lips. She is twenty-nine but doesn’t look a day over twenty-five. Her fiancé, Dave, is a handsome corporate lawyer who looks a lot like Taye Diggs. When he looks at her you can see the love, respect, and admiration he has for Skyler. In an attempt to help me find the same kind of love, Dave once introduced me to one of his coworkers, Tim, and we dated for a few months. My parents even met and loved him, but Tim still wasn’t over his ex-girlfriend, so we stopped seeing each other.