Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
“That’s not at all how you felt when she pulled out a box of condoms from the grocery bag and started reading the back of it like a box of cereal.”
Dad’s uncomfortable cringe causes the three of us to chuckle in unison.
See. She’s not always so bad.
“So, sugar,” he begins again once the laughter has died down, “nothing new to report at all?”
“I’m thinking of doing The Very Hungry Caterpillar for the kid’s book club this coming month and serving a tray of snacks to match the ones touched on in the book.” I reach for my water glass while rambling off another idea. “And since Eric Carle is such a staple in the art of picture books for children, I’m thinking of maybe mirroring that message with picking a graphic novel for the adult book club. Possibly Maus by Art Spiegelman, which I’ll have you both know was the first graphic novel to win a Pulitzer Prize.”
“And now that you bring up prizes…” Mom giddily segues with a mischievous grin.
“Something tells me that you’re not talking about the same type,” my father mumbles on an exasperated eye roll.
“There’s this prize of a young doctor at the hospital who is single and according to the rumor mill very ready to mingle.”
“Mags, no one uses that phrase anymore.”
“You hush,” she swiftly scolds his direction and resumes her gushing towards me. “He’s about thirty-five, no more than thirty-seven. About 5’9, 5’10. Thick, dark hair. Not quite shaggy but long enough you can help brush it away from his crystal blue yes.”
“Did Patrick Dempsey leave Grey’s Anatomy to work at Highland North Medical Center?” Dad good naturedly jabs exactly what I’m thinking.
“Donates to children’s charities. Does volunteer work with animals. Likes to spend his free time down in South Haven where he has a beach house with an incredible view.”
“Why do you know so much about this young man?” my father’s joking continues. “Did you have someone run a background check on him as a solid to the lieutenant’s favorite wife?”
“Only wife,” she offhandedly corrects yet doesn’t skip a beat in her verbal pushing. “I think you two would make a perfect pair.”
Yeah, she said the same shit about the bottlecap collecting Frost Luxury Hotel tax accountant. And the male thong obsessed lawyer from Dornan Law Firm. And the LARPing marketing director that works at Bennett Enterprises. And the toothbrush obsessed dentist. The dentist who – I’ll have you know – was by far the worst. It’s beyond words weird having someone stare at your mouth not because they wanna kiss you but because they wanna clean your teeth while listening to slow jazz.
The only response she’s given is me picking my fork backup.
“Jaye,” her voice attempts to take a softer, more sympathetic tone, “you really should be out there dating.”
My retort is barely above a whisper, “I date.”
Not enough to call it actively dating, but whose side are you on?
Her attempt at a compliment occurs as my fork cuts into my food. “You’re a great catch.”
“The first greatest after your mother,” Dad states on a sweet wink.
“And you shouldn’t just be wasting your life away. You shouldn’t be spending your Friday and Saturday nights baking cookies and re-reading classics like Pride and Prejudice-”
“I liked the one with zombies more,” I quietly inform around the newest nibble in my mouth.
“You should be out there with your colleagues – if you can call them that – grabbing cocktails and accepting drinks from doctors or lawyers or directors of sales at one of those upscale wine bars downtown. You should-”
“Mags,” Dad cleverly cuts off, “is there more sauce for this? Because I gotta admit, the sauce…well, the sauce is the best part of the whole damn thing.”
Mom – thankfully – falls for the distraction technique. “Can you believe there’s no meat in it?”
“I believe I could use a little more sauce on mine.” His circumventing the truth tactic is one I may have inherited. “Any chance you could grab me some since you’re about to reheat your plate?”
She looks down at her untouched meal prior to tossing him an adoring smile. “How do you know me this well?”
“Years and years and years of marriage, Mags.” This wink gets her giggling, planting a kiss on his cheek, and abandoning her glass of wine to grab both of their plates. “Appreciate you.”
My mother beams brighter and saunters away to deal with their dishes.
The instant she’s out of earshot, I faintly coo, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Sugar,” he responds in the same muted volume.
I offer him the warmest smile possible and force myself to have another bite of the food I have no genuine interest in eating anymore.
Okay. Here’s what you need to know. Contrary to the unbecoming way my mother makes me sound, I really am working on moving past Chris. I’ve been on a few dates in the last three years, although most are – admittedly – the ones my mother keeps stuffing down my esophagus like this gross excuse for dinner. The few that weren’t were ones that I let myself get roped into by drunk, meddlesome coworkers in between their rounds of ‘Kill, Bang, or 2nd Wife’ using the dads from the school as their subjects for the game. All the dates failed – including those with the stamp of approval from my mom – for the same reason. I’m too quiet. And I know it. I mean I’ve heard the same shit for pretty much most of my life. The thing is when there’s something I wanna talk about, I talk about it. And I keep talking about it. And I can’t stop talking about until someone basically says shhh. Chris – may he continue to rest in peace – was the same way, which is one reason he never said that to me. And one reason we were probably a good fit. Not perfect but good enough to have a future together.