Scott: So . . . You bought her a pig with a note that said it reminded you of her. And you don’t see that as a bad thing.
James: Yeah, because on our last date she laughed so hard she snorted. Plus, she loves animals. It’s perfect, right?
Scott: James . . . you told her she reminds you of a pig.
James: She does. It was a cute pig, plus she snorts when she laughs.
Wow. I rolled over on my bed.
Scott: Yeah . . . I'm not surprised she isn’t talking to you. She won’t like being compared to a pig, even a cute one. How about you don’t get ANY woman a gift without running the thought by someone?
James: He’s cute. Here, let me find pictures. I’ll show you.
I chuckled. My mind was blank. I could think of no solution where he could fix this.
Scott: It doesn’t matter how cute it was. I don’t think we can save this one. What have you been texting her?
James: Pictures of the pig that I took and asking if we could get together.
Nope. Not even going to try.
Scott: I’m in town and headed to the parents for dinner. Meet me there?
James: Yes! I love your mom’s cooking.
Scott: Me too. Excited for something other than tuna and crackers or peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
Bag packed for the week, I headed back to my car, which had become more of my apartment. A box with organized food, a bag of clothes for the week, and toiletries. Thankfully, the bathroom at the office had a shower. I drove to my parents’ house in the historical district.
The red brick exterior complemented the white shutters on the windows. The flower boxes at the front were meticulously cared for. Everything about the house screamed love and stories, from the white picket fence to the porch swing. My mom loved this house. It was where she raised us, but before then, she even saved the entire area from being demolished into a parking lot, having Dad help her turn it into a historical district. It was how myparents met. And yet, my parents risked losing it all. For a random friend’s business. I shook my head. Why would they do that?
As I walked up the sidewalk, each stiff layer I had built around myself began melting away. Everywhere else was a stage. I had to dress and act a certain way to prove I was capable. But here among my family, I was just Scott, for better or for worse. I loved being a lawyer, but the person I was trying to become sometimes drifted away when I was here. Mother wouldn’t settle for anything less. I showed up in a suit and a stiff attitude once. She held dinner so I could go change and come back as her son. She just wanted me.
Opening the front door, the original hardwoods showed the age of matchbox cars, roller skates, and roughhousing covered with a soft rug. I smelled Mom’s rolls baking, and my stomach jumped with excitement.
“Scotty!” I heard three-year-old Ellie Jean call and soft, quick steps came rushing down toward me, her hands outstretched.
I reached down and lifted her up in a hug.
“Hey, Jelly Bean. How’s the dragon today?” I chuckled and pulled her in for a hug.
She covered her mouth with pudgy fingers and laughed. “Mama said I could only call her a dragon at bedtime.”
“And why is that?” My older sister Jessica walked into the room from the kitchen with a smile and an apron tied around her bulging belly.
Ellie giggled, “Cause you turn into a dragon when I don’t go to bed.”
Jessica bopped Ellie’s nose. “That’s right.” Jessica reached me and gave me a hug. “It’s great to see you.”
“Hey, Scott.” Mom came into the room and gave me a tight hug. “How’s everything going, hun?” She looked me over, inspecting for loose-fitting clothes or bags under my eyes.
“I’m good, Mom—promise.” Her lips pinched but she nodded.
“I hope so. About last time . . .”
“You mean when you invited everyone single you knew?”
She laughed and looped her arm through mine and pulled me to the kitchen. “Sarah has been asking about you. I think you should go on a date.”
