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Baby Be Mine Page 6


  “I know everything about everything, cuz,” Max responded cheekily.

  “I’m changing my passwords after this,” Clarice added.

  Once the laptop was booted up, all the girls came to sit around Max while he typed furiously in the address bar, navigating to the website.

  “Most of the time these days, soul mates meet this way,” Max explained. He loved it when all his sisters, as he liked to call them, gave him their undivided attention. He felt special. “Plus, they have lots of intelligent guys too, so plenty of good sperm for you to choose from.”

  “A dating site.” Clarice pondered. “Doesn’t sound too bad.”

  When Max reached the site, he gestured for Clarice to look.

  “Youandme.co.nz?” Clarice read the name of the website. “Is that it?”

  “Yep.” Max typed again, going from one page to the next. “It’s pretty popular at the moment.”

  All Clarice and the others could do was watch while Max continued to enter this and that until it came to a particular page.

  “All right, here we are. Okay, cuz. Now you take it from here.” Max swapped places with Clarice so now she was sitting in front of the screen. “Type your name.”

  “You want me to register on this website?” Clarice asked, not quite convinced.

  “Yes. If you don’t do this, then you’re not going to meet anyone,” Max remarked. “Unless you want to turn into a sour old grape, then that’s no problem.”

  “All right, I get it. No need to be sarcastic.” Clarice huffed in annoyance. She started entering her details.

  “There, go there.” Max pointed to the criteria icon. “Put your list of criteria here. It matches you up with your desired person.”

  Clarice did as she was told. She typed in her list, one by one. Then it popped up with the age group she wanted to date, ranging from twenty all the way up to sixty.

  Clarice selected the two age groups from twenty-five to thirty-five. She didn’t want to date anyone over thirty-five. Their sperm might not be functioning properly. Selecting anyone younger than twenty-five would be bad as well. She didn’t want to date a kid straight out of high school. By the time he grew up, her ovaries might not be functioning properly anymore.

  Max, on the other hand, took matters into his own hands and selected the twenty to twenty-five age group as well, then pressed submit.

  “Max! I am not dating anyone under twenty-five.” Clarice swatted her cousin’s hands off the keyboard.

  Elise dropped her apple with a thud, which in turn drew everyone’s attention to her.

  “Sorry,” Elise said, fully aware of the many eyes staring at her. “I’ll just throw this one away and grab another one. Is that all right, Clarice?”

  “Sure, Max can get one for you,” Clarice offered, easily brushing aside the incident.

  “No, I’ll get it myself. Max needs to help you with the site,” Elise said, rushing to the kitchen.

  While Clarice and Max went back to typing, Whitney eyed her friend’s strange behavior with suspicion. Elise, the calm and collected one, was never like this, not since she returned from America five years ago, anyway. What happened there? Why would she act like this? Whitney would sure drum the answer out of Elise once she had the opportunity.

  “All done,” the other two shouted in Whitney’s ears, cutting off her thoughts.

  “Calm down, you two. It’s only a man,” Whitney said.

  “Yes, yes, I know. I know you don’t mind being a spinster, but I do. My maternal instinct is yelling out to me to find myself a man and have a family. But I’m not dating anyone under twenty.” Clarice glared at her cousin.

  “I’m starving,” Max said, rubbing his stomach. “All that talking and typing about soul mates and babies made me famished. Anyone up for pizza tonight?”

  “No thanks. Please grab Cambodian instead. I want my usual rice rolls. Make that prawn, please,” Whitney said, not taking her gaze from the laptop screen.

  “Why are we having Cambodian again?” Max whined. “I want pizza. Clarice, say you want pizza too.”

  “Sorry, Max, but I don’t feel like pizza tonight. Cambodian it is,” Clarice said, bursting Max’s bubble.

  “You two, sticking together like glue. Fine. Elise?” Max shouted.

  “Yes.” Elise came from the bathroom.

  Where’s the apple from the kitchen? Whitney thought.

  None of the others paid her any heed, but Whitney was very aware of her surroundings. Elise looked upset, like she had been crying or something. She needed to talk to the girl tonight, since Clarice was too preoccupied with her baby talk and all that. The only way to clear the air would be to suss it all out.

  “Elise, tell me which one you like.” Max went to wind his arm around Elise again. “Cambodian or pizza?”

  “I…” Elise spoke, tossing up whether to go for the healthy option of Cambodian, their favorite cuisine, or pizza as Max wanted.

  “Elise, we need your answer,” Max urged. “You’re the last vote. I’m losing right now, two to one. You’ve got to choose pizza, please,” Max pleaded, making his signature puppy dog eyes at her. Elise felt a sting in her chest but pushed it away again.

  “We could always get both.” Elise finally spoke. “It’s hard for me to choose. Why don’t we go together, Max? I’ll drive,” Elise suggested, taking her keys out of her bag.

  “No, I want to drive.” Max took the keys from Elise’s hand.

  “But you’ve only got a restricted. I have a full.”

  “All the more reason for me to practice driving with a fully grown, licensed adult beside me.” Max smiled cheekily. “Now let’s go. I’m dying of starvation here.”

  “Okay, okay.” Elise turned to Clarice and Whitney. “Be back in a bit.”

  “Yes. Please grab me the stir-fry noodles with seafood,” Clarice shouted, her face now glued to the screen also.

  “I know, your all-time favorite.”

  “Okay, everyone already told us want they want. Now let’s go. I’m dying here.”

  “Yes, yes, Max, let’s go.” Elise ruffled his hair playfully. Then they both headed out the door.

  As soon as the door closed, Whitney turned to Clarice right away.

  “We need to talk.”

  “I’m all ears.” Clarice had always been more in tune with Whitney, but all three needed each other; otherwise, they wouldn’t be called the three musketeers in high school or the three spinsters now. No, wait, at the moment, she was the only spinster who had turned thirty. Whitney’s birthday was coming up soon. As for Elise, she was a good three years behind at only twenty-seven.

  “About Elise…” Whitney started.

  “What about her?”

  “She’s not happy.”

  “I didn’t notice.”

  “Of course you wouldn’t notice. You were too consumed with finding the man to give you a baby.”

  “I’m sorry. Am I being to forward with my desire for a family? So much that it’s impacting you? I’m sorry. I sound quite selfish now.”

  “Look, Clarice, I don’t mind you looking for a life partner. Stop apologizing, for God’s sake. I want to talk about Elise, for you to keep an eye out for her. She doesn’t seem too happy these days.”

  “Yes, I suppose she’s still not over her parents’ deaths.”

  “That could be it.”

  “We should do something to cheer her up.”

  “We could. But we need to clear the air first. See what’s bogging her mind right now. See if she wants to tell us what the problem is.”

  “Yes.” Clarice agreed.

  That night after they finished their delicious meal of pizza, stir-fry noodles, rice rolls, and satay dish, Max left, saying he needed to head back to his apartment to finish his homework. Once all was silent, Clarice eyed Whitney silently, signaling whether it would be the perfect time to speak.

  With Whitney’s confirming nod, Clarice began her enquiry.

  “Elise, we need to talk
.”

  Elise looked startled, dropping her chicken nibble into her peanut sauce.

  “What about?” she asked, avoiding Clarice’s eyes.

  “Why you’re always so easily startled like this,” Whitney said simply.

  “What’s wrong? You can tell us.” Clarice reassured her friend.

  “It’s nothing,” Elise said without looking at them.

  “Nothing? Then why are you like this?” Whitney asked in frustration. The last time she saw something resembling this was after her parents’ death, and she didn’t like the outcome at all. Elise had almost committed suicide, saying there was no one left in America for her, as she was an only child. It was only when Clarice and Whitney went to help Elise and told her to move here that she even resembled a human being again.

  Elise stayed silent again. Expelling a deep sigh, Clarice went to hug her friend.

  “Look, I respect you, Elise, and if you want to keep it to yourself for now, then that’s fine too. We just want you to know you have us,” Clarice said, hugging her friend. She knew the feeling, having refused to speak up when people bullied her when she was young. Clarice didn’t want to pressure her friend into confessing anything until she was ready.

  “We’ll stay by your side no matter what happened,” Whitney added. “And we’ll give you our undivided attention.”

  “Yes, when the time comes, we’ll all be here for you,” Clarice said. “Max included.”

  “Thank you, guys. I love you so much.” Elise hugged both of her friends. Somehow it would be a long time yet before she could tell her friends what she had been storing in this heart of hers. But it wasn’t the time yet, and she prayed it would never come, hoping and wishing she would never have to face that moment, hoping and wishing this feeling within her heart would one day fade away.

  “I miss my parents,” she finally said, just to stop their curiosity for now.

  “I miss them too. Just know we’ll always be there for you,” Clarice said.

  “Same here.”

  And then they all went into a little emotional downpour, with tears and snot mixed together. Three boxes of Kleenex later, Elise finally broke the silence.

  “Enough about me. I can’t wait to see who’s first on your dating list,” Elise said, jumping to the laptop. Whitney followed, sitting on the other side.

  “There’s a list of potential suitors already?’ Elise eyed the screen.

  Clarice, interested now and eager to see that list, squeezed herself between her two friends. She looked at the different profiles of the many males on display.

  “They sure matched it fast,” Clarice exclaimed at the staggering number that appeared on screen.

  “Life is all about living in the fast lane now,” Whitney said. “Here, let’s see. Mmm, looks impressive.”

  “That one looks nice. Pleasant, with glasses,” Elise suggested, pointing to a man with mousy brown hair. “What’s his name, Darcy or something?”

  “No, too dorky. He needs to be professional-looking. I don’t want Clarice’s man to be dorky,” Whitney said.

  “Well, how about this one? He seems nice.” Elise pointed to another profile on the screen.

  “Elise, you can’t judge if someone is nice or not by their looks,” Whitney said.

  “But you just judged that man by his looks. You said he was dorky,” Elise countered.

  “Okay, I’m sorry,” Whitney apologized.

  “Enough, you two. It’s my man we’re looking for. He needs to be attractive to me. Not you two,” Clarice shouted at both of them. She was getting a headache again. Dear heaven, all this talk about babies and partners was really draining her energy.

  “Okay, okay. Calm down, Clarice,” they both said. They both knew when Clarice got mad not to go near her. It was like a gentle pig transforming into a wild boar right in front of their eyes.

  “Now we just have to wait until tomorrow to see which one they pair you with first,” Elise said simply, sitting back to watch the laptop screen as more profiles popped up.

  “Yes,” Clarice said, looking forward to her very first date with the man that could potentially be the father of her baby… and maybe more. She was looking forward to tomorrow indeed.

  Chapter 7

  Hunter stared at the rigid woman in front of him, sitting straight like a jukebox with palms folded on top of each other, her eyes looking intently at the tablecloth, as if finding the embroidered fabric so fascinating. He took his time to eye her. She was of reasonable height, thinly built with glossy blond hair parted to the left of her face, displaying dangling silver earrings. If he could describe her, she would be classified as pretty but definitely not his type. Hunter’s style would be petite, with voluptuous breasts that would fit right into his hands. This woman couldn’t be more than an A-cup.

  “So,” he said, trying to think of any topic at all to converse about, but none came to his mind. They’d been in the restaurant for well over fifteen minutes, but all she said in that amount of time was her name, Caroline, and her order to the waitress.

  Where did his dad find these women? What kind of deal were they thinking of doing? And why must he play a part in their stupid arrangement anyway?

  Hunter tapped his finger on the tablecloth. If he didn’t say anything soon, he was sure his brain would combust from boredom. He needed a distraction. His eyes glanced around the restaurant.

  It was a beautiful construction, a classic red, gold, and white theme. Anton had booked the reservation, boasting that the food was fantastic. He had never been to a Cambodian restaurant before, but Anton had an excellent palate, so Hunter trusted his judgment.

  The area they sat in was a very secluded spot, nestled up on the second level overlooking Auckland Harbor. Must be the VIP section, Hunter thought. At this time of evening, the sun kissed the sea, showing off a brilliant yellow-orange hue on the calm water below. The quiet melodic music and the dimly lit lampshades created a romantic atmosphere. But he didn’t feel romantic in the least. Well, not with the jukebox lady anyway. Now if it were a beautiful petite woman sitting in front of him, then it would be a different story. Heck, even the woman that spat on him last week would be better than the jukebox now.

  Hunter continued to eye his surroundings. There were only two other occupied tables—one with an elderly couple eating noodles and another with a young man, slightly younger than him, holding a pink rose.

  Pink rose? Blind date maybe. In fact, he was intrigued now as to who might be this mysterious girl who would soon make her appearance. He was glad he was sitting facing the entrance, as this gave him ample opportunity to glance at the door every few seconds without twisting his neck in the process. But after a good five minutes, he grew bored again. Trying to think of a way to make time go faster, he decided to go to the bathroom and clear his head a bit. The chair made a screech as he pushed it out.

  “Where are you going?” Caroline asked, looking nervously up from the table.

  What was her problem? Why was she so afraid to speak to him?

  He took in the sight of the jukebox in front of him, her eyes scattering from left to right. She definitely reminded him of a timid mouse desperately wanting to steal the cheese but afraid the cat would get her. Well, obviously he would be the cat, but come on. It wasn’t like he was going to bite her if she came after his cheese. But maybe he would, if she were his type. Then he would nip her on the neck and take her straight to bed. But in this case, it wouldn’t happen.

  “Bathroom,” he answered. He eyed her mischievously before further saying, “Wanna join me?”

  Hunter couldn’t help it because he wanted to check her response, whether she would jump out of her chair in fright or just timidly look down again at that tablecloth like a scared mouse.

  Both didn’t happen. Caroline looked shock instead to hear him say this. What could he say? Of course she should be shocked by his suggestion. Then again, most sensible girls would be shocked to be in his presence anyway. So her reply was
a vigorous shake of her head.

  “Thought so,” he commented. “Be right back.”

  Through the restaurant window, Clarice stared at the young man sitting near the large flower arrangement, twisting a pink rose in his hand. The man had shaggy brown hair that would benefit from a cut. His face was adorned with square-framed lenses.

  It was him, the one youandme.co.nz had emailed to her last night. Her very first date.

  He looked… young. Very young.

  Would he find her repulsive if he knew her true age?

  No, he looked pleasant. Yes, pleasant. That was what Elise would say. Pleasant men would never hold a grudge against age.

  Staring at the man again, Clarice’s heart did a little jump, not because she found the man beautiful and handsome, but because she was so nervous. Was this the man who she wanted her baby to look like? Would he be the one? As more thoughts clouded her mind, she began shaking all over again.

  “Get a grip of yourself, Clarice.” She shook herself. “You will not behave this way. This is your first date. I expect a good turnout.”

  Her eyes reverted back to the man through the window. What was she saying? This was her first date; that was why she was feeling out of sorts. She had to go to the restroom first. Clear her head and compose herself before showing herself to him.

  Clarice knew the layout of the Cambodian restaurant like the back of her hand since she frequented it so many times with her friends, so her escape through the door and to the bathroom without anyone even spotting her was an easy task. Just as she was about to make it to the women’s door around the corner, though, she unexpectedly collided with a large body mass, exerting enough force that it sent her toppling onto the floor.

  Before her body made impact with the dark tiles, she saw an arm and hung on to that arm for dear life, hoping it would provide her with some support to stop her fall, but in the end, she ended up sprawled on the floor anyway. A second later, she felt her lips smashed against something soft, and that was when she lost all sense of herself.

  Clarice’s heart went into a horse gallop before ending at the finish line at a sprint, and then her head decided to go on a roller coaster spin. Swarms of butterflies fluttered inside her stomach and her lungs were once again seized by an asthmatic attack. While all of this was happening, she kept her eyes closed tight.