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“It won’t be so bad,” John says, in a voice that’s supposed to be soothing but only makes my blood pressure rise. “I’ve already done all the hard work. All you have to do is play the part of Chelsea’s protective older brother. Stand-in brother. Fake brother.”
Ugh. I’d like to never think of myself as anything remotely related to Chelsea’s brother again. “Stop saying brother. That’s not what I am.”
“No?”
“No.” My voice is practically a growl.
As it turns out, the way John wants me to stand in for him relates to his stupid dating plan for Chelsea. He really did create a profile for his sister and pick guys for her to date. And he wants me to be the one to answer the door when they go on said dates, making sure these guys know she’s not someone to mess with.
“What were you thinking? It’s not safe to have them pick her up where she lives.” Chelsea at least had the brains to meet her blind date earlier this week at the restaurant. John seems to be lacking that same wisdom.
“This is only her temporary residence. Plus, that’s why you’re there,” he scoffs. “These guys will take one look at you and think thrice about trying anything funny.”
“Thrice, huh?”
“Thrice.” I can hear the smile in John’s voice. “Come on, man. You know I’d do this myself if I were there.”
But why? Why would John set Chelsea up on these dates in the first place?
And why not set her up withme?
I mean, John’s my best friend. He knows me better than probably anyone else in the world. It stings that I’m not even on his radar when it comes to Chelsea. Does he not think I’m good enough for his sister? Did it really never occur to him that I’m a decent guy he could trust?
Clearly not.
Still … upsetting John or risking my relationship with their family isn’t the only reason I haven’t pursued Chelsea.
Deep down, a squirmy, ugly fear I can’t fully seem to extinguish likes to tell me I won’t be a man Chelsea can count on. I never saw an example of a healthy relationship. Heck, I barely had a healthy single parent. How would I even know how to do commitment well? I don’t. And I never will.
Maybe that’s why John hasn’t set me up with his sister. Because he sees this too.
Nope: LIE.
I mentally stop my thought train with this one word.
A year ago, I started therapy, which has helped me recognize lies like this when they rear their ugly heads. I decided to see someone when I started volunteering at an at-risk youth shelter a few years back. Many of those kids have similar stories to mine and utilize the free therapy offered there.
I figured if they’re brave enough to do it, so should I. It was both harder and better than I thought, though I still struggle with things. Especially this.
John may have his own reasons for not setting me up with his sister, but I’m not about to help him helpherdate other people.
“Think of it like modern matchmaking,” John says. “Professional matchmaking is a legitimate occupation, you know. Google it.”
“I’m not googling it. If such a job exists, you’re not qualified. And, what’s more, they’re not lying pretending to be someone else on an app.”
“What’s yourrealproblem? It’s not like I lied on her profile. It’s her. All the details, man. I’m just the mediator, so to speak. So, what’s your issue?”
I freeze at this question because my real problem, my biggest issue, is that I want to be the one with Chelsea. Not some guy John deems worthy on an app. Not a man someone set her up with on a blind date.
Just me.
When I don’t respond, John barrels right on like he usually does. “Are you mad I’m using an app to find Chelsea dates, or that I’m pretending to be her? Or,” he says, sounding suddenly introspective, “is it something else altogether?”
It’s the perfect opening to confess my feelings. To ask John for his blessing to pursue something with Chelsea.
And maybe it’s cowardice, but I don’t take the gift-wrapped opening.
Because I don’t want to tell John how I feel before I tell Chelsea. She deserves to hear it first and directly from me.
