Phylis was living a simple yet happy life with her daughter, Lisy. She felt their family was complete, but little Lisy seemed to think otherwise. That morning, Phylis’ phone buzzed frantically with calls from unfamiliar numbers. The source of these incessant calls? A post on her daughter’s social media had gone viral overnight.

It all started on a typical day, one where I visited my mother, Pam, just like any other weekend.

In the kitchen, I busied myself unloading bags of groceries onto the counter, the familiar rustling sound filling the air as I organized the items.

Mom was in her bedroom, resting, yet I knew it wouldn’t be long before she’d call out for something or other.

Sure enough, her voice echoed through the hallway.

“Did you buy my favorite sauce? The one in the red package?” she asked, a hint of impatience layering her words.

Smiling to myself, I replied, “Yes, I did!” making sure she could hear me from across the house.

Soon enough, I heard the shuffling feet of Pam as she slowly made her way into the kitchen.

She leaned against the table for support and slid into a chair with a relieved sigh, her silver hair gently brushing her cheeks.

“Thank you, Phylis. You always remember,” she mumbled, her eyes glowing with gratitude.

I placed the jar in the cabinet, smiling at her. “Of course I do, Mom. How’s your day been?”

Pam stole a glance around the room before resting her gaze upon me.

“Oh, you know… the same. But how’s my granddaughter? Is Lisy swamped with schoolwork?”

I nodded while returning to the groceries. “Lisy’s doing great; she’s been entirely engrossed in her studies. They’ve even provided her a laptop at school for her projects.”

Pam’s eyebrows lifted in surprise.

“A laptop? What do kids need those for school these days? Back in my time, library trips did the trick, and we wrote everything by hand.”

I chuckled softly, understanding how foreign this concept must seem to her.

“Yes, it’s quite different now. Kids use laptops for everything—research, writing, presentations. They even turn in their homework online.”

Pam shook her head in disbelief.

“These kids and their screens. Not good for their eyes, you know.”

“It’s the way of the world now, but Lisy’s managing well. She enjoys her schoolwork.”

“And what about you, Phylis?” her voice dropped slightly. “Any adventures in dating? You’re not getting any younger.”

I sighed inwardly, preparing for this part of the conversation.

“Mom, we’ve been through this. I’m not dating anyone. I concentrate on Lisy and my job. There’s not enough time, and I don’t want Lisy worrying about me.”

“Phylis, Lisy is growing up without a father, and that can’t be easy for her. You, too, deserve happiness. Don’t let life slip by without giving it a shot.”

Before I could respond, a sudden buzz from my phone interrupted us, cutting through our exchange.

My eyes fell on the screen to see an unfamiliar number blinking back at me. A knot formed in my stomach.

“Hello?” I answered, my voice slightly tremulous.

“Is this Phylis?” a man’s voice questioned.

“My name is Henry. I’m calling about the father position?”

My eyebrows knit in confusion.

“I’m sorry, the what?” I echoed, sending a quizzical glance towards Mom, who now watched me with piqued interest.

The man chuckled lightly. “The father position—you know, like in the online post?”

My heart nearly stopped. “I’m sorry, you must have the wrong number,” I murmured hastily, ending the call abruptly.

“What was that?” Pam quizzed, sensing my mood.

“Some guy mentioned a ‘father position’ post. I’m at a loss!” I replied, my voice heightened by rising panic.

Pam burst into laughter, her face brimming with amusement.

“I warned you about kids with laptops! Now they’re advertising for new fathers!”

There was no time to reply. My heart pounded as I grabbed my purse, heading out hurriedly.

“I’ll talk later, Mom,” I mumbled, bolting through the door and racing towards my car.

My phone continued to buzz with calls, which I ignored. Once home, I marched into Lisy’s room, my thoughts tangled in confusion and frustration.

She was there, in front of her laptop, her face lit up with an innocent smile, seemingly satisfied.

“Lisy,” I called, trying to sound composed. “Do you have something to tell me?”

She spun in her chair, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Look, Mom!” she exclaimed, pointing at her screen. “I made a post, and it’s gone viral!”

Moving closer, I glanced over her shoulder, heart racing with disbelief. The screen flaunted a post that read:

“Father Position Open! Seeking a caring man for my amazing mom, Phylis!” It was adorned with several of my photos—some candid, others from family gatherings—all on display.

My jaw dropped as I scrolled through her cheeky description listing desired qualities for a ‘new dad.’

“Lisy!” I gasped, staring wide-eyed. “Why did you do this?”

“Because, Mom,” she giggled, beaming proudly, “you’re not dating. I thought this might help. Check it out—there are thousands of likes and comments! Everyone loves it!”

I blinked, dumbfounded by her logic. Thousands of likes? I could barely grasp the numbers or the fact Lisy presumed this was helpful.

“Lisy,” I started, choosing my words carefully, “this isn’t how you help! I’ve been bombarded with calls from strangers, totally clueless!”

“See?” she beamed, clapping her hands.

“It’s working! People are interested!”

“Working!?” I was stunned.

“You expect me to date random strangers online?”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “You don’t have to date them all, Mom. Just one at a time. Maybe I can help you sift through them—like make them apply or something.”

In silence, I watched her. “Lisy, you must delete it immediately,” I instructed firmly.

Her arms crossed stubbornly. “I’ll delete it… if you promise to go on one date.”

I exhaled, accepting the only choice to stop the madness. “Fine,” I conceded, albeit reluctantly.

“One date. After that, you delete the post, alright?”

“Deal!” she chirped, triumph glowing on her face.

Though I hardly believed what I’d agreed to, it was necessary to restore some peace.

That evening, I sat on my bed sifting through missed calls, a brewing sense of trepidation within me.

Eventually, I dialed the first caller—Henry. The conversation began awkwardly as we stumbled through introductions, deciding on meeting for a walk at the local park.

As I prepared, nerves fluttered in my stomach. It had been years since my last date, and the anticipation made me uneasy.

Lisy, however, was ecstatic. She danced about my room, aiding with outfit choices as if it were a grand affair.

Her enthusiasm was infectious, but I couldn’t entirely dispel the awkwardness.

At the park entrance, I spotted Henry—a tall man with glasses. He waved, approaching with a warm smile.

“Hi, I’m Henry. You must be Phylis,” he greeted, extending his hand.

I nodded, attempting composure.

“Yes, it’s nice meeting you. This is certainly a unique date start,” I jested, and we shared a laugh.

“Indeed, your daughter’s post added intrigue,” Henry agreed, chuckling.

As we strolled, I relaxed slightly, finding Henry kind and amusing, a pleasant surprise.

Yet, a part of me pondered consternately.

“Henry,” I voiced after some time, “this has been enjoyable, but it roots back to my daughter’s prank. I’m unsure about taking it seriously.”

He nodded, understanding in his gaze.

“Completely get it. It’s entertaining, but sure, it started as a hoax.”

I nodded with relief. “Exactly.”

“But a second date?” he queried playfully, grinning. “Still part of the hoax or possibly real?”

Laughter escaped me. “A second date could be real.”

Henry’s grin widened. “So, Friday perhaps? Give it some thought.”

Walking home, a swirl of emotions mingled within me. The date with Henry had been agreeable, and he seemed genuinely nice. Yet, some hesitation remained.

Was I truly ready to plunge back into dating? It had been so long since I even contemplated, and I questioned my readiness for what might unfold.

As I stepped through the door, Lisy awaited eagerly, practically bouncing with excitement.

“Well?” she prompted exuberantly. “How did it go?”

Her enthusiasm amused me. “It was fine,” I deadpanned, maintaining casual tones. “But don’t get carried away.”

“Thinking of a second date?” hope shone in her eyes.

I laughed, shaking my head. “Maybe,” I teased her. “But first, the deal—delete the post.”

With a wide grin, Lisy dashed for her laptop. “Deal!” she exclaimed over her shoulder.

Seated later, I contemplated Henry’s words. Maybe it was time to release the past and embrace new beginnings.

Life often nudges you toward unexpected paths. Who knows? Perhaps this was just the start of something genuine.

Sometimes, a simple post—or prank—can lead us down unexpected trails.