Ugh, that was a headache.
Clean. Don’t think.
It worked for about another hour until all the cars parked on our street distracted me. Was Harrison suddenly Mr. Social and having friends over? Did he read my note? Did he think about me? Was he upset that his brother’s team won the game?
Enough.
Straightening my shoulders, I reorganized the dishes. It helped a little, before my emotions grabbed ahold of me, the sting of his goodbye causing my eyes to water. I’d thought he was different, that he saw me for me and liked it.
Not true.
My phone buzzed, my mom’s name flashing. Great. Just who I want to talk to. With a resigned sigh, I answered. “Hey, Mom.”
“Becca. The party is in three days. Have you gone shopping for a dress yet? You haven’t sent me any pictures of potential outfits, and you know how much I love that. The theme isNew Year, New You, which is really cliché. But nonetheless, it’s easy to find a dazzling dress. Just glam yourself up!”
She didn’t breathe the entire time she spoke, and despite the dreaded topic of conversation, her mom-ness made me smile.
“I haven’t found a dress. Listen, I’m not sure I’m going to make it.”
She clicked her tongue. “Honey, you don’t have a choice. I already RSVPed, and you know how serious they are about those things. Wasted food, extra chairs and tableware. Now why wouldn’t you go?”
Harrison doesn’t want me anymore.
I traced the line of the tile with my finger. “I’m tired from the blizzard, and the house has so many things that need to be fixed or cleaned,” I lied, hoping I sounded convincing. “The girls get back soon.”
“Even if what you’re saying is true, which we both know it’s not, you deserve a night out.”
Okay, I couldn’t lie for anything.
“Fine.” My stomach hurt at the chance I’d upset my mom, but I was sick of it. Just done. “My date can’t make it anymore, and I’m sick of being set up by you or your friends.”
“The thing with the neighbor didn’t work out? You sounded so smitten on the phone. I looked up pictures of the coach, and honey, he’s handsome.”
“He is handsome.”And kind, thoughtful, and funny when he wants to be.I made a raspberry with my lips and continued. “It didn’t work out. No hard feelings or anything from either one of us. We had a great time together, but life will go back to normal now the blizzard is over.”
“Hmm, well, you sound sad. If you just let me—”
“No.No.” My voice came out stronger than I’d intended, but it didn’t sway my mother’s interest in my dating life.
“If you put yourself out there, honey, you’ll find the right person. The internet is no way to meet people. You need church or friends to set you up. You stay in that house with the girls and are too afraid of making a connection.”
“You’re wrong, Mom.” My temper flared. “I do put myself out there. I date, but it’s kinda hard to find a prince when all the guys you set me up with are frogs. I’m different, and I’m okay with who I am. It takes a special person to accept me, and I’m not going to settle until I find someone who understands me. Your doctors and lawyers and sons of friends, they laugh when I tell them I like to knit, and they think my job is glorified babysitting. They’re boring and stiff, looking for wife material to fit their vision. I’m not that person. They are all one-daters. They wine and dine me until,Bam!—they realize I’m different. I’m sick of acting like it doesn’t sting.”
Silence greeted me on the other end of the line, and instead of feeling guilty, I felt empowered. “I love you, Mom. I do, but no more setups. If you ignore my wishes, then I’ll stop showing up for dinners. Can you promise me you’re done?”
“Yes.” She whimpered. “I’m sorry I upset you.”
“You have great intentions, and I appreciate your dedication, but I’ll figure it out myself. My life is not lacking in any way. I love my job, my friends, mycrazyparents, and if love is on the table, it’ll happen when it happens.”
She paused a long moment. “So the neighbor didn’t call back or what?”
“No more talking about my dating life. We can discuss politics, or the weather—hell, even Dad’s new hobby of trying to build stuff—but ixnay on my love life.”
“Will you still come over for dinner tomorrow?”
“Yes, Mom, I will.” I laughed at the hesitant tone of her voice. She had never been so passive.
The doorbell rang, and I thanked the stars that it gave me an excuse to end the awkward conversation. “Someone’s at the door—probably my Amazon order. I found these adorable mugs with stupid sayings for the girls. I should get it.”
