The Dos and Don'ts of Dating a Doppelgänger: A Sweet Romantic Comedy

By Kari Monet

Ava would never move to a new town just because she met someone online-except she kinda did. As fate would have it, her mystery man, Tanner, works alongside her at the town's little clinic, and the mutual attraction is undeniable. The surprise is that she's the spitting im

• Language: English
• Publisher: Green Martin Press
• Release date: Sep 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9798986004037

Book preview

1

Basically Godlike

Ava’s first day in Caterwaul felt like a first date with an internet stranger she had already fallen in love with, which is to say, it was a crazy mix of dizzying hope, unrealistic expectations, and abject terror.

In hindsight, she probably should have gone home first, found the key, and started unpacking before she began her crusade for public health. It had, after all, been an eleven-hours-of-driving kind of day. It was getting late, the sun already sinking toward the mountains. She had to use the bathroom. Her pants had melted chocolate on them, and who knew what her hair looked like at this point? 

But there was an overturned car in the ditch along with a gathering crowd of onlookers, and Ava had sworn an oath.

She parked her hatchback in the weeds behind several other vehicles.

Can I help? she asked, jogging carefully over the asphalt, slick with ice and snow. I’m a doctor.

An upside-down Prius was steaming, and a young man climbed out of the broken window. 

Ava bent to help the teenager up, looking at him carefully. Are you okay?

Fine, fine, the boy said, resisting her support as he made his way to the hood of a parked car and sat on it. 

Was anyone else involved in the accident? Ava asked a nearby woman in her forties, but she shook her head. The boy looked okay for the moment, so Ava went back toward the wrecked vehicle, confirmed there was no one else involved, and then addressed the crowd.

If you could all step back a hundred feet, we’ll all be safer, she said loudly. Has anyone called 911?

A man confirmed that he had called the authorities and still had them on the line. People moved back, with the exception of a few clustered around the young driver.

Ava ran back to her car, grabbed her medical bag, and let Dolly out. The dog jumped out eagerly since it had been hours since their last pitstop. Ava returned to the boy, who was now talking with a man who looked to be roughly her own age.

Nah, Coach. I’m fine. I told you. Just a few bumps and bruises.

Sorry to interrupt, Ava said. I’m a doctor. Can I take a minute and check you out? The ambulance should be here soon.

She looped her stethoscope over her neck. The boy seemed to be okay, though he was clearly in a state of shock. His eyes darted around nervously, and he seemed to be shaking. He chattered on about how the accident happened while the man stood openly appraising Ava. 

If she hadn’t been so focused on the boy, she would resent the man’s close inspection of her face. His features registered shock and bewilderment. As she began to take the boy’s blood pressure, Ava resisted the urge to check her face and teeth. But the man was probably just rattled by the accident and not used to seeing strange faces. Ava tried to ignore her rising irritation. Finally, he seemed to come to himself and turned back to the boy. 

Noah, have you called your parents yet? the man said, reaching for his own cell phone.

At the sound of his voice, Ava turned to look him full in the face. Why did his voice sound familiar? She was sure she hadn’t met him. He handed the phone over to the boy and then turned to address her. 

Thanks for your help, ma’am. But he’s fine. As soon as his parents know what’s going on, I’ll take him home.

Ava bristled. She really hated being called ma’am. "That’s kind of you, but I really do need to assess his condition before releasing him to the care of his guardians. The police will be here any minute and will have some questions, I’m sure."

And with that she faced the boy, pointedly angling her body so the man would take a hint and let her do her job. She gave the young man a piece of gauze to hold to his head, which was bleeding profusely. The gash across his forehead would almost certainly need stitches, but from the looks of the vehicle, the boy was lucky to be alive.

Can you follow this light for me? she asked, using her pen light to check his eyes for signs of concussion. They looked okay, but the boy was still jabbering about how he saw a deer crossing the highway ahead of him, swerved to miss it, and flipped the car. 

It was normal for an accident victim to respond with rapid speech and shivering, but something felt off to Ava.

Are you on any medications? she asked, tilting her head to one side. 

No. I mean, I take ibuprofen when I get headaches, he gabbled, his speech so fast Ava almost couldn’t follow. And Mom makes me take these crappy vitamins made out of dehydrated fruits and vegetables, which will basically cure cancer and neutralize nuclear waste if you believe their radio ads. Did you know that health food companies make as much money each year as the big, bad, pharmaceuticals? I mean, everyone likes money, and I don’t hold it against them, but really? Why rip people off who just want to be healthy?

Ava broke in, asking, Are you under the influence of any prescription or other controlled substance right now, Noah?

Instead of responding, the boy bent over to greet Dolly, who’d been circulating between the groups of bystanders like she was at a cocktail party. He rubbed her behind the ears. Hey, cutie. What’s your name?

Ava began to repeat her question but the man next to her broke in.

Hey, that’s enough. Noah’s a good kid. He’s just in shock. He’s had a heck of a day, and he doesn’t need a random stranger harassing him.

That voice! Where had she heard that voice? It didn’t matter. Just like it didn’t matter that the man was 6’1’ and had the face an AI generator would come up with if you typed in man in early thirties, symmetrical face, brown eyes, square jaw, basically godlike.

I’m not a random stranger. I’m a doctor, she said, growing heated. I appreciate that you want to help, sir. But until the paramedics arrive, I would ask that you give me some room to treat my patient.

"Your patient," he repeated. I was taking care of him just fine before you got here. I’ve been taking care of him since he was little.

It’s nice that you have a relationship with him. In fact, I’m really glad you’re here, Ava said between gritted teeth as she removed the soaked gauze and began cleaning the wound. But I really need you to let me take care of this. In fact, if you could call 911 again I would be grateful. Do they always take this long?

They’re coming out from Lemuel, so yeah, the guy responded. And his folks won’t appreciate paying for an ambulance ride just so Noah can be told what I’ve already determined: that he’s a bit shaken up, but fine.

That wound needs stitches, Ava argued.

That’s a call his parents can make, and if necessary they can drive him to the hospital or even just take care of it at the clinic. Come on, Noah, I’ll take you home.

Sir, I’m sorry, but I can’t let you take Noah yet. There are protocols that need to be followed, Ava began, and in irritation that the two guys were just walking away from her, she reached out for his arm. 

Surprised by her touch, the man slipped on the ice and Ava—having knocked him off balance in the first place and now trying to help him regain it—fell in a heap on top of him, her rear end planted squarely on the man’s chest. 

Coach Sorenson, the boy yelled, and then burst into a fit of laughter. Are you okay?

Ava couldn’t believe she, a Denver native and no stranger to harsh winters, was obliged to the boy for helping her get up. But it turned out that Utah ice was just as slippery as Colorado ice. After she was on her feet, she began apologizing and trying to help the man up, her cheeks burning against the frigid air. 

The man wouldn’t allow her to help him up but instead struggled to sit up using only one arm. His jaw was clenched in a deep grimace of pain.

Can I help? Ava asked, squatting down next to him but backing up about six inches when he seemed to flinch away from her. Then Dolly showed up, overflowing with compassion for the downed soldier, and tried to make him feel better by licking his face. Ava was beyond mortified. Dolly! No!

She got Dolly back in the car, thinking it might be best to drive Noah and her poor victim to the hospital herself. As she walked back to Noah and the man, Ava became aware that there were more onlookers than before. They chatted in clumps, telling and retelling the story of the accident and subsequent injuries, calling out to the victims by name and asking them questions, chatting on the phone with others who wanted to hear the story. Ava tried to ignore the strange hunch that some of them were discussing her.

Dude, Mr. Sorenson! Were you in the car with Noah? A teenage girl asked as she and a few friends approached. 

I wish, he said.

He seemed to be favoring the arm he had fallen on.

I am so, so sorry. This is all my fault. Do you want a ride to the hospital?

He stood up, wincing. I can drive myself.

Okay, maybe she deserved the eye roll he tossed her way, but it still stung. He walked away, presumably to cut off his own arm and drive stick with his chin so he could get home in time for SportsCenter. 

Ava was so done with this guy. She was done with the whole thing. She was hungry, she was freezing, she needed to pee, and her one remaining patient was—wait, where had Noah gone? 

Noah? she called, then started walking through the still-growing crowd of rubberneckers. Then she shouted, Noah?

Where’s Noah? Others took up the chorus, and the man with the hurt arm turned around and gave Ava another hard look before helping scour the area for the boy. 

He took off with Leena and Sky, one of the onlookers reported. Said they were going to give him a ride home.

Ava sagged in frustration and didn’t fail to notice the injured man’s smirk in her direction as the wailing siren of the ambulance finally approached. Then he got in his truck and drove away. Either he had an automatic transmission, or he really could drive stick with his chin.

2

Second-Hand Embarrassment

Twenty minutes later, Ava jiggled the key into the lock of her new home, just over a mile from where her good Samaritanism had gone so disastrously wrong.

The door stuck a little, then gave, and after she removed her muddy sneakers, Ava walked into her new home with Dolly in her wake. There were the new curtains the owner had mentioned on the phone, paisley in shades of blue. The floor had new carpet, and the walls were freshly painted, but all the doors and fixtures were ancient. Grateful her landlord had good taste in furniture, Ava was happy with the simple, clean lines of the living room and kitchen. She flung the suitcase on the bed and headed for the bathroom. 

A scant fifteen minutes later she was locking the doors, plugging her phone in, and snuggling under the covers next to Dolly.

Despite her exhaustion, her eyes remained wide open. She fretted over the boy. She was almost positive the police would have insisted on testing him for substance abuse. Was that why the boy chose to disappear so quickly? When she expressed fear for his well-being, the officer in charge said he knew the kid’s parents and would visit with them right away. If Noah hadn’t made it home by then, at least his parents would probably know how to find him. 

Her mind returned to the man she had injured while trying to convince him of her credentials as a doctor. She prayed she hadn’t done the poor guy any lasting damage and vowed to track him down tomorrow and check on him. If the high school reunion vibe from the scene of the accident was any indication, he shouldn’t be hard to find. 

She kept seeing that first look of shock and hurt on his face even before she caused him to fall. He seemed almost affronted by her appearance on the scene. Surely he wasn’t so backward he couldn’t accept help from a doctor simply because he didn’t know her or because she was a woman. Why then did it seem his feelings had quickly turned from bafflement to revulsion in the first few minutes she spent talking to Noah?

Of course, now he had reason to hate her. She groaned and rolled over, trying not to think about his face, so sturdy and intelligent and soft around the eyes when he addressed Noah. He must be a teacher or a football coach. Her mind automatically put him in a gym, with that steady focused gaze and all those rippling muscles. 

Ridiculous. He had been wearing a heavy coat when she met him. Just because he had the face of Captain America and the height of an NBA player didn’t mean he had the body to match. Also, why should she care what his body looked like?

She got up and retrieved her water bottle where it sat by the front door, drank from it, and went back to bed.

It was frustrating that her first professional interactions had gone so poorly, and she wished for a do-over. Despite her best intentions, she’d been brusque with Naoh and his coach, and she’d have to do better than that. Building goodwill in the community would go a long way toward establishing her new psychiatric practice.

She was due to start work at the local clinic on Monday, helping with family medicine while she began to build support for a new mental health practice in the valley. She remembered her rotation in family medicine fondly. It was hard work but less emotionally draining than her months working in an addiction recovery facility. She was looking forward to the year or so of being a general practitioner while she built an addiction recovery practice where she could put her psych degree to good use.

She threw her blankets off again, and Dolly looked up but wisely decided to stay in bed. Ava thought she’d bring a few things in from the car, but once she got started, she thought she might as well unload the whole thing. In for a penny, in for a pound. She smiled at the old saying. She wasn’t entirely sure what most of them meant, but she had dozens of them rattling around in her brain, ready to fall out when she least expected them. Grandpa had raised her alone, so it made sense that she’d absorb his vernacular, but she found herself talking like him more now that he’d passed on than she ever had during his lifetime.

Half an hour later, she slammed the trunk of the car closed and leaned against it, struck by the simple beauty of the house. She hadn’t taken the time to really appreciate it when she arrived, but now the town was covered in deep darkness, and the porch light illuminated the house as if it were a single actor on a dark stage. It was small and simple and easy to see from all angles. Its orange-red sandstone pieces were of all shapes and sizes, and its white trim and window frames tied in nicely with the painted rail and slats enclosing the porch. It was only around eight hundred square feet, and at the time it was built at the turn of the century it would have been expected to house a whole family. 

Ava’s mind’s eye furnished the yard with kids, and through the kitchen window, she thought she could see a husband finishing up with the evening chores. This was just the type of place a family could thrive. They would barbeque on the weekends, celebrate birthdays with breakfast in bed, trim the grass on Saturdays, play board games at the kitchen table, go to dance recitals, fight over chores, string up lights for Christmas, save up for vacations, watch TV until way too late, give each other backrubs, and have at least two dogs. And on chilly late winter nights like this, they’d linger under the stars and dream about their future together. 

Ava rubbed her arms and went inside to look for her favorite fuzzy blanket, but she ended up unpacking a few more boxes in her search.

Make that all the boxes. She didn’t have a lot of worldly possessions, but they were all going to be meticulously organized before she quit for the night.

She was halfway through sorting out her kitchen when the phone rang.

Hey, Eric, she said. 

She lives! And more importantly, Mayberry does, indeed, have cell phone towers. 

Shut up, she smiled, using a butter knife to cut packing tape on the top of a box labeled kitchen misc.

Are they going to let you milk a cow so you can have some breakfast in the morning?

I wish, she laughed. 

I know you do, you freak. So? Tell me everything.

Not much to say. Dolly did great on the drive. The house is cute. Oh, and I might have maimed one of my neighbors.

Eric groaned. "Tell me you didn’t run someone over."

Nope, just tackled him to the icy, frozen ground, spraining or perhaps breaking his arm.

She told him the whole story, thoroughly enjoying all of Eric’s horror and second-hand embarrassment.

Do you need to lawyer up? I’ll protect you. We can’t have this guy suing you and getting all your worldly possessions, currently valued at $214.57.

No police yet. I’ll keep you posted if they want to interrogate me.

Please don’t.

Hey, since when do they let you out of the dungeon at this time of day? Did you get time off for good behavior?

Not today. I’m looking at - two more hours. She could tell by the sound of his voice that he was rubbing the bridge of his nose, trying to ward off one of his stress headaches. 

Eric, you need a break.

I know, he said. It’ll be easier when I make partner.

She had her doubts, so she made a non-commital noise as she arranged her pie pans on the shelf. Eric had been a glutton for punishment through their undergrad years and law school, and now that he had been hired as an associate, it was just as hard. But he was always sure that rest and relaxation were right around the corner. 

And hey, he said, his tone brightening. You’re still coming out for Easter, right?

Wouldn’t miss it, she said. Especially if you’re doing hot cross buns again.

You’re evil, he said, laughing as he remembered his baking fiasco of the previous year.

Oh! He’s on the app, gotta go, she said.

You’re heartless. Don’t you care that my best friend just moved out of state?

She sounds lame anyway. You’re better off without her. Byeeeeee.

She hung up, promising herself a longer conversation next time, even though Eric hung up first 99% of the time. Then she clicked over to the TrueVoice app. 

You won’t believe the day I just had, he said, and sitting on the kitchen floor surrounded by boxes, Ava smiled. Now this little house felt like home.

3

Your Neck of the Woods

The old Tanner would have taken care of his clothes right away, but this one left his coat hanging over a kitchen chair and shed everything else in the hallway. He kept the splint on his sprained wrist and carefully held it out of the tub as he soaked and scrubbed. He wrapped a towel around him, stepped over a few days’ dirty laundry on the floor, and looked in his drawers for clean underwear and sweatpants. 

He really needed to clean up this dump. Dishes were piled in the sink, mail overflowed from the cardboard box by the door, and the bathroom hadn’t seen a scrub brush in a number of weeks he didn’t want to think too hard about. 

Not to mention the front yard. It was one thing to let his private life go to pot, but it was another thing to be so obviously pathetic that his mom and sisters driving by would see the state of the yard and worry about his welfare. 

Of course, it was still too cold outside to do anything about the yard, but in just a few months, it would be too hot outside to do anything about the yard. 

He’d gone to the clinic and run his own x-ray to determine nothing was broken, and by the time he was finished, all the local restaurants were closed. He grabbed an apple and sat down on the couch. He opened up TrueVoice on his phone, pressed the microphone icon, and said into it, You wouldn’t believe the day I just had.

Tanner thought about recording another message since it might be awhile before Dendoll answered. But she responded right away. 

Tell me. Her voice came across like it always did, soft and yet ready to laugh.

I don’t even know where to start.

At the beginning, silly.

Okay. I had oatmeal for breakfast. Then I drove to work. Then I had nachos for lunch—

But then he saw the steady stream of screaming emojis she was pumping out. There was no interrupting on TrueVoice or she would be screaming the old-fashioned way. He decided to save the filibuster for another day, and he ended the recording. 

I changed my mind. Start in the middle. Toward the end. Like, one minute from the end.

Honestly, I don’t think I have the strength, he said, suddenly feeling exhausted. "What about you? 

Oh, you know. Same ol’, same ol’, she said.

Okay, old man.

Look who’s talking.

Hey, now, he said in a mock warning voice. He had turned thirty-six the previous week, and Dendoll had done nothing but tease him about it ever since, even though she was just over a year younger. 

How much cake is left? she asked.

That is none of your business, he said, eyeing the empty cake pan on the stove. There was nothing wrong with cake for breakfast. It had milk, eggs, flour . . .

Don’t feel bad. Dolly Parton’s older than you in dog years. She’s, like, 85.

That’s very comforting. Tell her hello for me.

Can’t, she’s asleep. We had a big day over here.

And where might ‘here’ be? His tone was teasing, but they both knew he was serious. 

Let’s just say that I might be in your neck of the woods.

Oh, yeah? Tanner’s voice squeaked like that of a hormone-riddled thirteen-year-old. He rolled his eyes and tried to recover. That’s great.

He’d chatted with her throughout the day and knew she was traveling, even if she hadn’t told him why. And it would be great if she was actually close, but he was pretty sure she only knew he lived in Southern Utah. They’d agreed early in their friendship not to divulge personal details like real names, jobs, and places of residence.

Also, thanks to the app, they each had no idea what the other looked like. It was genius. Tanner wished he had started the app himself and still had half a mind to look them up and invest in their stock. TrueVoice didn’t let you share pictures or videos, and this made it feel safer to connect with people and easier to weed out the weirdos before you got too far in a relationship. Sharing pictures took things to the next level whether you wanted it to or not. So when Dendoll had suggested they stay on the platform instead of moving to another one as most couples did when they really liked each other, Tanner was all in. What he needed was a friendship, not a situationship. 

But it was diabolically deceptive, this firewall between them. Tanner sometimes wondered if he’d been tricked into feeling so safe that he shared his whole self with her. She may not know his address or what he did for work, but she knew about his fear of snakes, she knew his habit of straightening shelves in the store and yet leaving all his clothes on the floor at home, and she knew that he’d lost his wife five years ago.

It had been a year since they’d started talking, and Tanner wanted more of her. He didn’t care what she looked like—okay, of course he cared what she looked like. But as long as she wasn’t an actual eighty-year-old with tobacco-stained teeth he was going to be all in. He wanted to know her and for her to know him. He knew that would come with a price tag. The friendship he valued so much would be put at risk when they crossed that line. 

Besides, there was Maggie. 

You’re quiet, she said.

Just listening to ghosts.

Missing her tonight?

Like I miss having braces. He stared at the wall where the wedding picture had been, the nail still in place.

But tonight you’re feeling especially haunted?

I’m fine, he said, and took a deep breath. So, you’re in the area. We should meet up.

The other end of the line was silent for a long fifteen seconds, and Tanner panicked. If she wasn’t ready to share pictures or personal details, why would she be ready to meet in person?

Well, I don’t know what kind of a drive it would be for you, she said. But I saw a coffee shop called The Corrupt Canaanite.

Whoa. That was less than a mile from Tanner’s house. What were the chances?

I can make that, he said, trying to keep the enthusiasm out of his voice. "When’s good for you?

4

On the Benefits of Good Hosiery

Ava woke up earlier than she should have after such a restless night, and immediately checked her phone.

Of course Ballotboy’s voice had been the last thing she heard before she fell asleep, so she shouldn’t be surprised that he hadn’t left any messages in the last four hours. She pulled up their old conversations and read through them. One of the best parts about the app? Time travel.

The first time she and Ballotboy connected on the app, Ava was processing a rough breakup. It had been her decision to end things, but she was the type of person to make great decisions and second-guess them for eternity. Ballotboy talked her through it with the patience of a retired teacher sitting on the bank of a creek with a fishing pole. That is, after he was certain she was well-educated on the benefits of good hosiery.

So, what color are your socks and why? Ballotboy’s voice asked.

Um, that’s literally the weirdest first date question I’ve ever heard.

Oh, so you consider this a date. Hang on, I need to change into my ‘date socks.’

Same. I was wearing dirty white crew socks. But now I’m wearing clean white crew socks.

Sexy, he deadpanned.

And you?

I’m wearing my Props green argyle socks.

Props?

Um, yes. He sounded offended. Only the single best brand of socks in the entire world.

Let me guess, Ava said. They’re made by a woman-owned business in inner city Chicago that uses sustainably-sourced wool and natural dyes.

Actually, they’re made in a sweatshop in Venezuela. But you get a picture of the child who made them.

You must be so proud.

I am. I have a whole album so I can show friends the kids whose lives I’m improving.

Ava was glad that her snort happened before she started recording again. I’m gonna need a picture of these socks.

No pictures on this app, remember?

Oh, yeah. It was part of the reason she had chosen this one. The idea of connecting with a person verbally before getting a sense of their physical appearance appealed to her. She could filter for character before getting to the next level, and in return she wouldn’t have players taking up her time without having any real interest in her as a person.

We could make an exception for the socks, maybe? They are pretty stellar.

On a first date, I don’t know. This all seems so very . . . very sudden. She whispered in her very best Marilyn Monroe.

"No, you’re right. Let’s stick to the platform. But