Three Player Grind

My ex taking our daughters to Disneyland is his latest way to prove Dad Rules and Mom Sucks. While they're riding roller coasters, I'm taking a trip of my own—a long deserved island getaway for one. And I'm letting my oldest's swim coaches stay at my place while we're all gone, and their apartment is fumigated. Except a last minute work emergency means I'm stuck at home, rather than lying on a beach enjoying the view.

Raising twins by myself wasn’t the life I pictured, but the three of us have done pretty well together. They’re in their senior year of high school now, and I’m thinking maybe I can finally get back into the dating pool. Given that my late-husband was my high school sweetheart—my one and only—and it’s been more than twenty years, I have no idea where to start. Do I swipe right, speed date, or maybe just stand on a corner and shout forty and single, please date me?

I love being single. I don’t answer to a significant other or any children, and I get to see the world on the company dime. Next stop? Milan. The longer than expected layover in New York is a bit of a bummer, but the night I spend with two strangers from my flight? H.A.W.T. I don’t know which I enjoy more—the way words roll off their tongues in their incredible Italian accents, or the way they use those tongues on me.

I’ve been the responsible one my entire life, including raising a son by myself. With my boy growing up and moving out and me hitting my mid-forties, I’m looking toward all the things I missed out on in life. Hooking up with the hottie a decade younger than me, when I was halfway around the world in Italy, should’ve helped me scratch that let loose itch.