“Mom, I graduated four years ago. I’m not interested in Brett, and I’m not sure he’s even legal.” I set my wallet down on the counter and opened the pink box, showing her the last two cupcakes inside. This was the fastest way to end this conversation. My sugar addiction came straight from my mama.
“Well, I don’t see you with any other options.” She looked tired. I wondered if they had her working double shifts again at the packaging factory. I didn’t remember my dad enough to miss him, but I wished he had stuck around, if only so mom didn’t have to work so hard.
“And since I have sworn off dating entirely, that will continue.” I walked back to Mom and held out the cupcake bribe.
Mom sighed, but grabbed the pink cupcake with sprinkles. “It’s time to put yourself out there again.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re one to talk.”
My mother had been single for twenty years, and I didn’t see her lining up to get in the dating ring.
She huffed and took a small bite out of her cupcake. “We have been over this. It’s different. My life is plenty full and busy with you kiddos.”
The problem was, her little kiddos had grown up. Caleb was married, living in Utah and building his MLM empire. Ivy was married with a baby and another one on the way. And I adored my independence. Mom was left working jobs to pay off past debt, sleeping in a bigger house than she needed, and hoping one of her kids would show an inclination of needing her help.
Her whole life was taking care of us, but what would she do if she was free to do anything?
“There are good guys out there.” She took a bite of the cupcake and smiled. “But no good comes from staying home in your pj’s all the time.” She gestured to my Elvis pants.
“Something very good is coming from staying in my pj’s. It’s a man, anItalianman,” I raised my eyebrows appreciatively, “and he is bringing breadsticks.” I whispered.
Mom rolled her eyes and swatted my arm as I chuckled.
I bumped into her with my shoulder. “I appreciate it, but it’s different, dating now. The guys are different.” We walked over to the pink stools. “I’m different.”
Mom sat and took a small bite of her cupcake.
“Old-fashioned manners are as extinct as dinosaurs.”
She swiveled to face me. “Emma Ann Woods, you better not be comparing me to dinosaurs!”
I chuckled and rolled my eyes. “You know what I mean.”
There was a knock at the door.
I tipped my head to mom. “I haveRoman Holidayready to play, and the best Italian food.” Based on the bags under Mom’s eyes, she needed a movie night more than a night out anyway. “Want to watch a movie with me?”
Her shoulders relaxed, giving up the fight. “Fine.”
I smiled. Mom always was more bark than bite.
I opened the door.
“Delivery from Leo’s.” Peter was an older man that had kind eyes, gray hair, and a wide smile. He had brought my orders the last few months, and it was always wonderful to see him. He held up a large sack filled with pasta, breadsticks, and—as usual—dessert.
“Hey, Peter, come on in.” I held the door open as he nodded and stepped into the apartment, and I grabbed some cash for a tip from my wallet. “You got another date with Cary Grant tonight?” He nodded to the TV.
“Cary Grant dates are the best!” Technically, it was Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn, but close enough. I counted out the cash and handed it to him.
Noticing Mom, he tipped his head, “Evening, ma’am.”
She nodded. “Good evening.”
Peter turned to leave. “Have a good night, Emma, and enjoy your Cary Grant.” He winked.
“Oh, I will. Thanks for the food. Drive safe.” I held the door for him.
I watched as he hopped down the steps. For an older man, he still had plenty of pep in his step. It was too bad Peter was married and a little too old—otherwise I would have tried to set him up with Mom. He was sweet and full of old-fashioned charm.
