Grumbling,I wrap myself in my comforter and make my way downstairs to the kitchen. The clock on the microwave says it’s only a quarter past seven.Why did she get me up this early?
I slump back in one of the kitchen chairs and doze off.
Somehow, I snap back awake with a warm mug of coffee in my hands. The microwave tells me it’s seven twenty-five as I try to blink the sleep from my eyes.
I sip at my coffee and stare down into a stack of smiley-faced pancakes my mother slides on the table in front of me. The mouth made of bacon and eyes of milk chocolate stare right back at me. I check my cellphone for the date; afraid I somehow traveled back in time.
I didn’t. Unfortunately, it’s still the same year. The year my life was ruined.
“What’s all this?” I ask my mother whose back is now facing me as she flips another pancake on the stovetop.
She looks over her shoulder and smiles, “Oh, you know. Just want you to feel at home and stuff, that’s all. How did you sleep last night?”
Like a harlot, in love with a taken man, my loins hungry for his, yet quite satiated from the animalistic coitus with the person I loathe the most in life. I shake the thought out of my head, making a mental note to take a break from reading any more historical romances. Maybe a good thriller would be in order. Or better yet, a good non-fiction self-help book.
Are there any books that can help you unfuck your life?
I definitely need to go back to therapy after this.
“You look like you’re having a whole conversation in your head that’s really interesting. What’s going on, Janie, talk to me.” Mom turns the dial on the stovetop then pulls out a chair to sit at the table alongside me. “Come on, what happened? Is it your job? A man?”
I shake my head and stab Mr. Pancake in the face with my fork. Then I slice across his forehead and stuff him in my mouth.
My mother gasps.
It’s loud and dramatic, and my first thought is that something awful has happened I’m not aware of yet. “What? What happened?” I croak through a mouthful of food.
She has her hand against her breasts and her face is flush with excitement. “Are you pregnant? Am I going to be a grandmother?”
“What? No!” I say, clanking my fork against my dish. I wrap the comforter around myself tighter, wishing I could disappear into it.
“Why?” Her face reddens as she grips my arm. “Would that be such an awful thing? Giving me a grandchild?”
Not now, please not now. Not this conversation again.
I grit my teeth, shut my eyes, and shake my head. “Okay, stop. Just stop.”
“Go on, then. Tell me what’s going on.”
“Believe me, you don’t want to know what’s going on.”
“Of course I do, silly. I’m your mother. I want to know about everything that goes on in your life.”
Not this time you don’t. “I’m fine, Mom. Really.”
“Is it that you think you can’t talk to me? That I wouldn’t understand? Maybe you think I’m too old, maybe I don’t remember what’s it like to be young and single.” She’s relentless.
“Fine.” What’s one more stab of humiliation in my chest? “You really want to know? Okay. I met the man of my dreams about two months ago. At a baseball game. A gorgeous, perfect total stranger and we got paired together on the Kiss Cam.” My mother’s expression softens, her eyes water with joy. And now I’m about to cut that shit dead. “Oh yeah, it was literal love at first sight. For me, anyway.”
Her expression pales. “What happened?”
“I couldn’t find him after the crowd went wild.”
“Did you ever get to see him again after that? This story is like a Hallmark Channel movie.” Her hand is at her chest again, fisting the top of her apron.
“Yes! I did!” I say, jumping up and pounding my fists in the air. “Unfortunately, though, the next time I saw him, he’s working in the art department at my magazine and he’s DATING MY BEST FRIEND!” The neighbor’s dog starts barking next door.
“Neither of us says anything to Julia, because Nate, that’s his name, Nate and I decided it’s better not to say anything.” I lower my voice and the dog stops yapping at me.
