I met Bachelor #16 online. He was a doctor living in Northern Utah. He was a few years younger than me and seemed quite nice and normal–other than the fact he was willing to drive four hours just to go to dinner with me!

He was also the first man I dated that I tested out the whole “don’t tell every detail of your story, just one aspect of it” tactic on. And to my amazement, it worked! I told just one reason I had divorced when asked my story, it was comparable to his, and the conversation turned to other things without me having to reveal every aspect of my marriage that had ended in disaster.

But wouldn’t you know it, and as the evening progressed, the doctor wanted to know a lot more about my children. Specifically, if their father paid child support and exactly how often they saw him or spent time with him. I don’t recall that I’d ever been asked that before, so Bachelor #14 had never prepped me about what to say about that and sometimes I’m not so quick-thinking on my feet! That darn deer-caught-in-headlights look I’ve gotten so good at was evident in my face.

I didn’t know what to say, so I told the truth. I answered honestly: their father wasn’t employed and he lived in another state which made regular contact impossible due to his situation and lack of funds, my financial situation and my work schedule. I told him my children had contact with him through letters and twice-monthly phone calls which I paid for.

Bachelor #16 couldn’t believe that. It bothered him so much that through the rest of the evening he kept coming back to that and asking more questions about my children’s father, his child support, and their contact with him. I answered the questions, but offered no details.

To my surprise, his concern seemed to have less to do with my former spouse and more to do with my mothering: what kind of mother would stand for that? What kind of mother would allow that? What kind of mother would let that be the extent of a father’s involvement? What kind of mother would support such a dysfunctional family situation? He warned me of potential ramifications in later years as a result of my tolerance for an absentee father.

There is nothing I could say to that. He may well be right, although I’ve been working since 2009 when our unexpected life began, and I’ll continue to be working my children’s entire lives, to prevent that. You have to make the best of what you’ve got. And in that regard, I admit, I don’t have much. I’m simply doing the best I can and then relying on others (friends, family, neighbors and many good men) to make up the difference for my children until someone, someday, becomes their father.

Bachelor #16 was also upfront about what he wanted from a woman: more children. I had to be honest about that, too, and tell him I was unable to accommodate that plan.

As for me, I discovered Bachelor #16 wasn’t very close to his mother or siblings, he touched feet all day long (turns out he was a podiatrist), and neither of those things worked for me. Clearly there was no magic.

“That’s the thing with magic. You’ve got to know it’s still here, all around us, or it just stays invisible for you.” (Charles de Lint)

So long, Bachelor #16.