Love at First Sight: A Short Story
A midlife woman prepares to meet a potential new love interest
Jennifer is at her dressing table staring in the mirror. She’s not a young woman anymore; her once-smooth skin reflects back dull and grey, blueish circles underneath her eyes. She swipes on more foundation with her fingers to achieve the dewy complexion she achieved so easily in her youth. A mascara wand is pulled from its tube and applied slowly, sweeping the brush from the base of her eyelashes to the tip, first one eye, then the other, mouth opening ever further to tighten the skin around her eyes. Her mirror image updates and she’s starting to feel like herself, battle armour layering on like chainmail. A bit of eyeshadow next, a streak of lipstick. She pinches her cheeks like her mother used to do, cheaper than blusher and more natural, that’s what she was taught. Make it look natural, she thinks. Who’d want to look “natural” at my age? she thinks.
Music plays quietly in the background. It’s subtle, she doesn’t want to pump herself full of energy before she leaves the house. She’s used to making herself smaller. Don’t be too much, she’s always been told. By her mother, her bosses, even her friends. You can be a bit…loud she’s heard all her life. So she’s learned to tone it down, make herself more flat, take up less space. She doesn’t want to scare him off before they’ve had a chance to get to know each other. Best to keep it demure, subtle. A little bit of makeup, a shy smile. She practices in the mirror, smiling without showing too much teeth or making her eyes sparkle too much. Will he care what I look like? She doesn’t know.
Looking at the clock she realises it’s almost time to leave. She’ll get the bus to the meeting point. Maybe a taxi back later, it depends how it goes. On the bus she can put in her earbuds and listen to some soothing music to steady her nerves. She’s looking at herself in the mirror again and pulls at her neck skin, saggier than she remembers. Everything is slowly drifting downwards; skin, boobs, estrogen levels. Declining just as nature intended. But it’s too soon, where did her youth go? Why can’t she have more time? Youth is wasted on the young, the old cliche goes.
It’s been a few weeks since they “met” online. She reached out first on the app, introduced herself, Hello, I’m Jennifer and I’m interested. She doesn’t remember things being so easy and upfront when she was younger. The last time she met a stranger was probably a decade ago and even then apps and phones didn’t control people like they do now. It would have been much slower, more organic. But maybe she wouldn’t have had so much choice either? Is choice a good thing? She read an article recently about decision fatigue and overwhelm; now she gets to bring that understanding into a real-life situation. Does anyone ever feel satisfied with their decision when there’s a million other options at the touch of a button or the swipe of a thumb?
She puts away her makeup and gathers her things into her handbag. Phone, keys, purse. Her bag used to be a catch-all for female detritus; sanitary towels and lip gloss and chewing gum in case of impromptu kissing. Now it just holds the basics of middle-age. In the kitchen she grabs a snack from the cupboard, because you never know when you might get stuck somewhere and need carbs. A cereal bar and bottle of water where there was once glittery body spray and can of pre-mixed gin & tonic.
She leaves, locking the door behind her. The house will stay empty until she returns; it’s just been her for so many years now. Once, she’d hoped for the pitter-patter of little feet around the house, but it never happened. She didn’t meet anyone during the years it would have been biologically possible and she didn’t want to do it alone. As independent as she was, she never felt like raising a child solo was for her. She was too selfish. Or was it the opposite? Would raising a child on her own have been purely to satisfy her own wants and needs, and would the child have suffered as a result? She’ll never know, but thinking like that keeps her from drowning in her own regret. Besides, maybe it’s true.
As she closes the door she has a sudden attack of nerves. Sends a message to a friend so someone knows where she is, and finishes it with, Actually, should I just abandon the whole silly idea? Her friend replies before she’s even put the phone back in her pocket. Absolutely not. Jennifer smiles, her friend always knows just what to say. She double checks the door is locked behind her, just like her mother used to, and makes her way to the bus stop.
The bus arrives quickly and she places her earbuds into her ears, selecting a relaxing classical playlist. The music is soft to begin with, leaving her open to the overwhelming cacophony of everyone else’s lives; the teenager in the back row listening to trap music without headphones, the old man sitting in front of the teenager tutting loudly, the group of kids who’ve escaped their parents to make faces at the cars driving alongside while their Mum tells them off without conviction. The whole point of earbuds is to drown out the noise of other people, and she turns the volume up as high as it will go. She half expects a last minute cancellation, but there are no new notifications on her phone as she pockets it. so she sinks into her seat, allowing the melodic notes to wash over her.
The journey progresses without incident and she can feel her nerves prickling again when she realises it’s only two stops to her destination. Alert now, she removes her earbuds and puts them back in their case, hand poised ready to press the button for the next stop. The bus slows when they reach the stop and she moves cautiously to the front, ready to alight. She’s concentrating so much on not tripping or falling over her own feet, she almost doesn’t see the bag laying in the aisle, but spots it just in time to take a bigger step, casting a glance at the person responsible. It’s the old man who was tutting at the teenager’s loud music. Apparently only some of the basic rules of public transport etiquette apply.
Stepping down from the bus, she checks her phone - still no message asking to cancel. Emboldened, she opens the map on her phone and selects her destination from the recent history, waiting for the app to calculate the walking time. Just another four minutes and she’ll be there. She opens up the camera app now and checks her face, ensures her make up is still in the right places. She checks her armpits in the reflective glass of the bus stop once she’s alone. She looks and feels good, hopeful, and follows the electronic directions to the meeting point.
When she arrives at the address, she’s a little surprised to find it’s a residential home, albeit on a well-lit street during the daytime. Besides, her friend knows what’s happening so she quickly opens her phone and drops her a pin of her location, just in case. It’s been such a long time since she did anything at all like this, maybe this is completely normal nowadays? She smooths down her dress, adjusts her bag on her shoulder, and rings the bell.
A young woman answers and beams at her, ‘You must be Jennifer?’ she says.
‘Yes. Hello. Lovely to meet you…’ She’s waiting for the woman to introduce herself. She’d been texting with Barry and she’s caught off guard, but she’ll wait for an explanation before assuming she’s got the wrong address or worse.
‘I’m Barry’s daughter, Sally, come on in,’ the woman says.
Jennifer follows Sally into the house. She’s being shown to a large sofa in a sitting room, and can see through the doorway to the dining area with a big oak dining table, set up for guests. Everything has a place and the whole house has an air of tidiness and things being ‘just so’.
‘Let me just go and get Dad,’ the daughter says.
‘Of course,’ Jennifer replies, settling into the couch and holding her bag tightly in her lap. She’s fidgeting with the strap and stops when she notices. There’s no need for anyone to know how nervous she is.
Barry enters the room, a large man with a kind smile and unruly facial hair. He’s older than she’d thought, at least fifteen years her senior. He strides over to Jennifer and holds out his hand, ‘Lovely to meet you, at last!’ he says.
‘You too,’ Jennifer agrees, taking his hand and returning the shake firmly. If her years in corporate employment gave her one thing, it was a firm handshake. She smiles back and stands, not liking the dynamic of being seated while a man stands over her.
‘Do you want to follow me?’ Barry asks.
She does. They make their way through the lounge, past the huge dining table and into an annex room. Her eyes take in the surroundings and she hears a soft scratching noise. This room is quite different, full of new smells and much less tidy. She focuses her gaze on the corner of the room and identifies a huge, open-topped box, a furry body laying serenely in the middle while a handful of black, white and brown puppies feed from their mother.
Barry stops at the whelping box and gestures towards the puppies, ‘Take your pick!’ he says with the air of a door-to-door salesman.
Jennifer edges closer, trying carefully not to disturb the puppies’ meal. Her eyes rake over them and one of the male dogs looks at her, eyes as big as saucers on his tiny body. She smiles and she’s sure for a moment that he smiles back.
‘Well aren’t you adorable!’ she exclaims. Her eyes have unexpectedly filled with tears now and she brushes them away quickly so Barry doesn’t notice.
‘Have you had a puppy before?’ he asks.
‘No. This is my first,’ Jennifer replies. ‘I was so nervous, but looking at them now I don’t think I could leave this house without knowing one of them would be coming home with me!’
‘They can’t leave us just yet, I’m afraid.’ he explains, ‘They’re only 6 weeks old so just another fortnight and you can come back and fetch pup. Do you know which one you’d like?’
Jennifer has been watching the puppy who first looked at her, and she feels her heart swell with love. ‘This one,’ she points at him, ‘I think, actually, he’s chosen me.’
‘Ah yes,’ Barry says, ‘They’ll do that. Would you like to hold him?’
‘Very much,’ Jennifer smiles. She places her bag on a chair behind her and gingerly moves towards Barry who’s now holding the tiny creature in his hands.
‘He’s had a good feed but he might be a bit sleepy,’ he warns.
Jennifer takes the bundle from Barry and holds him close. The puppy rests his head on Jennifer’s shoulder as if there’s nowhere else in the world he’d rather be. She sighs and feels a burst of such pure happiness, she fears the tears building behind her eyes might spill out. They stay like this for a few minutes, the puppy content in her arms and Jennifer filled with adoration while Barry busies himself tidying up the various puppy toys spilling into the room.
‘He’s perfect,’ she says.
‘He’s a treasure,’ Barry agrees. ‘Do you think you can pop him down for a few minutes while we do the paperwork?’
‘I’ll try,’ she replies, and places him very gently back with his siblings. She takes the seat offered by Barry and they complete the necessary admin, Barry giving her detailed instructions on what he’ll need when he goes home with her. Jennifer and her new puppy can’t take their eyes off each other.
So this is what love at first sight feels like, Jennifer thinks to herself, and takes the deepest breath she’s taken in years.
If you liked this story, please consider subscribing to give me some sweet, sweet dopamine.