Page 44 of Fun Together
We head inside and she lays the food out on the kitchen island. I grab a hot dog and some fries and head into the dining room but stop short when I see a bunch of stuff piled up on the dining table. “Why does it look like Party City threw up in here?”
“Evie,” she says bluntly. “She’s getting a little carried away with this party planning.”
“Sounds like typical Evie to me.”
Her brows furrow in concern. “Maybe, she seems . . . off.”
“Breakups are tough,” I say, taking a bite of the hot dog.
“Breakup? I didn’t know about a breakup.” Oh no. I mentally prepare for Evie’s wrath when she finds out I broke this news to Mom. “Steve, did you know about Evie’s breakup?”
Dad mumbles through a mouthful of food, “Never liked the kid.”
“Still, poor Evie-bear.” She takes her phone out of her purse. “I should call her.”
“She seemed okay about it when we played tennis the other day,” I say, hoping to hold her off for now.
“You’re right, she’s resilient. I’m sure she’s fine.” She pats my arm. “And how are things with you?”
I tell her about how the job has been going, about Andrew jetting off to the Netherlands.
“How’s the apartment hunt going?”
So far, I’ve looked at two places in my price range where I’d have to either live with five other people or become well-acquainted with a colony of mold spores. “Not great. Unless you want me to contract a permanent respiratory illness in exchange for having your basement back.”
“You’ll find something,” she says for what feels like the millionth time. “Any other news?” my mom asks nonchalantly, while she dips a fry in ketchup.
“Like what?”
“Evie told me you aren’t dating.”
There are no secrets in this family. Now I don’t feel as bad about spilling the news about her breakup. “Is that a concern?”
“Well, honey, you’re about to turn twenty-seven.”
“And?”
“You just seem lost. Now that you’re back home, I’d like to see you settled.”
Settling down and doing the whole marriage and two-point-three kids or whatever has always been some vague idea of my future that I’ve never spent much time considering.
But she’s right that I’m not getting any younger.
The pressure hits me suddenly. Where am I going to live? Say I meet someone tomorrow that brings this fuzzy future into focus. What are they going to think when I tell them I live at home with my parents, or that I’ve never been in a serious relationship before?
“One thing at a time, Mom.” My mom means well, but I don’t know how to tell her that all of the things she’s suggesting I do feel impossible when your track record isn’t the best. It would come out sounding like an excuse.
“Do you remember Claudia, my friend from book club?”
“Is she single?”
She continues without acknowledging I said anything. “She and I were talking the other night. Her daughter, Dani, just moved back from spending time with their family in Mexico. She issosmart andsogorgeous. Claudia gave me her number so you can call her.”
A blind date doesn’t exactly sound fun to me, but this isn’t a battle I feel like fighting now. So, I do what I always do: agree and change the subject. “Sure, sounds great. Do I need to get a license or anything for the party?”
“For what?”
“To do the wedding officiating. Am I like a priest now? Can I wear an outfit?”
