I sighed and hit the unmute button. “Hey, Mom.” My voice was falsely chipper.
I satin my yellow bug on the long gravel driveway of Mom’s farmhouse, hating myself for being a terrible daughter. Logic told me to come clean. Logic told me not to go. I guess logic wasn’t loud enough.
I should have done so many things differently. But there I sat, waiting to take Mom to tonight’s Kismet Silvers event, against her knowledge.
Mom would love the world travel event, I rationalized. But by the sinking of my stomach I knew that Jane was right. Maybe all this “noble cupid stuff” wasn’t for my mom at all.
I pressed my forehead against the steering wheel, my blond curls falling around my face. My hands were warm and sticky.
I could still cancel.
Mom’s front door opened, and she stepped out of her house wearing a black and red Spanish-style dress and a huge smile.
She looked beautiful. I was a horrible daughter.
Mom pulled open the car door. “Thanks for coming with me tonight, Em,” Mom said, sliding in and clicking her seat belt. “I figured you owed me after last week.” She teased cheerfully.
She had no idea.
She was too good. I put the car into reverse and backed out of the driveway.
“Do you need the address?” Mom clicked on her phone.
My guilt burned higher up my throat. I had changed the address when I erased any trace of Kismet Singles on the flyer, another way I’d lied to Mom. I couldn’t look at her face.
“Nope, you texted it to me earlier.” I used a different route to The Brick House. “So how’s Ivy been feeling?” I knew if I needed Mom to fill the silence, all I had to do was ask about her kids. Even though I was just postponing the inevitable.
Maybe like dating, I was avoiding pain and trying to take an easier route.
The drive passed with stories of Bunco night, her long hours at work, and a new kitchen gadget that she decided she needed but couldn’t figure out how to use.
I turned on my blinker and pulled into the parking lot. I found a parking spot and cut the engine, waiting for Mom to realize where she was.
She looked over her shoulder. “You got the address wrong, let me check again.” She flipped the flyer open and then paused. “Wait…” She glanced in confusion between the flyer, the building, and me.
I dropped my head to the steering wheel.
“You didn’t… Did you?” Her voice was a broken whisper.
I shook my head as I placed it into my hands. “Mom…I’m so sorry.”
“You did this.” Mom whispered as she stared at the flyer, the hurt evident in her slouched shoulders and quiet voice.
Mom didn’t yell. She didn’t storm out. She just…sank into her seat, shaking her head. Somehow, that was worse. The anger I could have handled. The disappointment? That crushed me.
“All the information about the event and raffle tickets is accurate. It’s also a Kismet Silvers event, and yes I emailed you the information and tickets.”
“Why?” she whispered. Her sad blue eyes met mine. “Why didn’t you listen?”
I broke eye contact and winced. “I signed on to cancel your account, like you asked.” I stared at my car ceiling, tears on my cheeks. “But there was this event and it just seemed too perfect… I knew logically I shouldn’t, but I did it anyway.”
How had I let it get this far? I wasn’t just meddling anymore—I was manipulating. I hated myself for it, and yet, somehow, I had convinced myself it was okay. That it was for her. Mom looked out the window toward the building and dug in her purse.
I felt ugly from head to toe. I grabbed a tissue from Mom’s extended hand and blew my nose. The tears flowed freely now that I had let them escape.
Grabbing my phone, I brought up the Kismet website. “Here. I will delete it.” I showed Mom as I clicked the deactivate button on her account.
I glanced tentatively at her. “I will never do anything like this again.” Her bright face from earlier had lost its glow. “No more tricks.” I rubbed my forehead. “I can take you home, or I can come in with you.”
