“No mother, please don’t.” The last time she called, I got reamed out by Dr. Liam, the friggin’ president of all MIT.
Like the Eveready Bunny, my mom just keeps going and going. “...my party. The most eligible bachelors on the East Coast will be there. I even got Thomas Kale from Seattle to attend.”
Oh my God, I’ve landed in a Victorian romance novel.“Please, mother, tell me you didn’t.”
“You need my help, dear. Whether you like it or not, you’re an heiress and not getting any younger.”
Whaaa? I just turned twenty-seven. Shit. Here we go again. As in ‘The Exorcist,’ my head circles on my neck because I am not having this conversation again.
“... and after age thirty, chances of having a baby with birth defects goes up exponentially each year...”
Other than one horrible night with Gerry, I haven’t had sex in two years and frankly, I don’t see children in my near future.
When my mother takes a breath, I clearly enunciate so there’s no chance she’ll misunderstand me. “I am not going to date until I finish my doctorate.”
“Ridiculous. It could take years.”
My jaw drops at her blatant lack of faith but before I can open my mouth, she starts up again. “Oh, for goodness sakes, don’t give me that forlorn face. Everyone knows microwaves are dangerous. It says so on the outside of the oven. You’re just wasting your time and my money.”
“EMF, mother, not microwaves. Electromagnetic frequencies.”
“Don’t treat me like I’m an idiot, dear. Microwaves are EMF.”
Shit. Why do I bother? I suspect she’s quite aware of my studies and this is just another one of her ways to belittle my work. With God as my witness, as soon as I finish my degree, I’ll choose the job offer furthest from Boston.
Biting my tongue, I glare at the snowflakes growing larger. “Are you going to cancel if it snows?”
“Bah. This is just a dusting. The real storm won’t hit until the party’s over. Now, I can tell by the faces you’re making, you find my tactics distasteful. Just so you know, I’m not thoughtless. I’ve invited several brilliant minds to the party. Yuri Romanoff attended Harvard and has expressed some interest in you. Of course, Gerard will be there, as well as several others whose families have purchased tickets. I do expect you to be polite and for heaven’s sake, please don’t talk shop. You’ll never win a husband if he thinks you’re smarter than him.”
It’s mean-spirited, but I can’t help but throw in a dig. “Is that what happened between you and Dad?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. We get along just fine. He enjoys his time in Europe and I enjoy him being there. In fact, he’s promised to play again this year.”
I mutter under my breath as the limo comes to a stop in front of my nonexistent class. At least, other than me, there’ll be one other form of entertainment.
I wait for mother’s chauffeur to open the door and he gives me a sad smile. “Have a nice evening, Ms. Calliope.”
“Thank you, Johnathan, for everything.”
He shuts the door, adjusts the rearview mirror, and shaking his head, drives away.
For the longest time I stare at red tail lights and make myself the same promise I do every time I see her.I will not let my mother get to me.
