I chuckled at that. "I wasnotlooking," I agreed. "But someone came into my life and I couldn't look away." Again, I paused. "If it works out and the timing is good for her schedule, I'd like to bring her home with me when Rachel returns."
I heard pages flipping and drawers closing on the other end of the line, but still no response.
"You're giving me a complex with all the murmurs and pauses, Mom."
"Jiang," my mother called, her words spoken away from the phone. "Are you working this weekend? I can't find your class schedule anywhere. It must've sprouted legs and walked off because I keep it right here and it's not right here."
My dad taught systems engineering at a technical college outside Albany. It would've been a typical Monday through Friday gig if he didn't sign up to teach during every extra session the college offered its students.
When I was a teenager, I thought he took on these additional courses because my parents were hurting for money. Around my fourteenth birthday, I had a man-to-man talk with him and promised to get a job so I could help out. He laughed at me. A good, long laugh complete with tears rolling down his face. He explained that more cash was always nice but he taught those courses because he enjoyed his students that much.
"It's right there," my father shouted in the distance. "Put your glasses on, Bonnie Marie. It's staring you in the face."
"Just tell me if you're teaching," she shouted back.
"Open your eyes, woman," he replied. "I'm not teaching but that schedule is going to jump up and bite you on the nose."
"Everything all right down there?" I asked.
"Everything is perfect, Jackson. Don't you worry," she said. "I was just checking my schedule to see if I could rearrange a few things and it looks like I can. Isn't that great?"
"Rearrange what? What's happening?" I asked around a mouthful of banana.
"We can come visit you this weekend," Mom said. "Dad's not working and I can trade shifts with Mary Louisa Thompson because she owes me several favors. We don't have to wait until next spring to meet this woman, the one you're seeing. We can meet her this weekend and that's perfect timing because we're going to the Maciases' lake house next weekend and then there's the wedding for what's-her-name's daughter, the one with the unfortunate avocado allergy. No guacamole at that wedding, I'm guessing. But this is the best timing and I can't wait to meet this lucky lady of yours. What's her name? You know what, why don't you give me her number. I'll give her a call and introduce myself. We'll get along famously, I know it."
"I'm gonna need you to slow down there, Bonnie," I ordered. "Slow way down. These are some high octane plans. I understand that's your mode of operation but I'm going to need you to dial it back several notches. Things with this woman—"
"At least tell me her name," Mom begged.
"Annette," I replied. "Things with Annette are new. I need some time before I unleash the full force of Bonnie on her."
She sniffed but I knew she wasn't offended. She wasn't one quick to take offense. "Jackson, did you hear yourself? You said she came into your life and you couldn't look away." She huffed out a sigh. "I can appreciate that you want me to slow down even if it doesn't sound like you're heeding that advice. I want to get her on the phone, have a little chat. I want to know all about her, her work, her family. So many questions. And I'd like to find out how many grandbabies she's going to give me."
I leaned my forehead against the refrigerator as I groaned.What have I done?
"We'd love to meet her, Jackson. Don't you think it would be great if we drove up for a visit?" she asked. "We'll take it easy, I swear. It's just that you've never said anything like this before and I want to meet the woman who caught your attention."
"This weekend might be a bit soon. I'm not sure where this is going or if it's going to last. Give me a month," I said, but quickly thought better of it. "Or two."
"You're such a pragmatist," she said, a bit exasperated.
"Someone has to be," I murmured.
"Are you sure I can't call her?" Mom pressed. "Just a quick chat to let her know how excited I am to meet her. When I'm allowed. In a month or two."
"Put the guilt trip away," I said. "When the time is right, I'll make sure you get your fill of Annette."
"It's like you don't even trust me to place a phone call," she said. "You must like her if you don't want me embarrassing you with stories about you being the fattest baby in upstate New York."
"While I'm sure she'd love a story about my baby pudge, she's really busy," I said, hedging. "She owns her own business and has been teaching herself to bake and I'm trying to take as much of her free time as she'll—"
"Oh my god, I love her already," Mom said with a yelp. "Jackson, I'm so happy for you. This is the first woman you've mentioned in ages and I just want to give her the biggest hug because I know she's special to you."
"Yeah, she is," I agreed, smiling to myself. "I hate to cut this short but I have to hit the streets and check on my town, Mom."
"Well, I'm glad I caught you this morning," she said. "I'll make sure to call around this time again."
"Oh, wonderful," I murmured.
