Page 11 of Penalty Shot
“Will you be seeing him again?” Ma asks.
“I’m not looking for anything serious. We had fun, that’s all. And I’ll be busy.”
My students’ spring performance is underway and if I hear positive news aboutBlood Will Have Blood, it will be a quick rush to assemble the production team and hold auditions. Oncerehearsal begins, every waking moment will be dedicated to the play. And like most of my summer gigs, this is out of town. Imagination Ohio headquarters is in Cleveland.
“When is she ever going to take anyone seriously?” my mother turns to my friends. “Ever since Miles, she hasn’t brought anyone home for me to meet.”
Miles’s name turns the fish in my mouth into acid. Lily glances at me apologetically. I shrug, knowing she didn’t mean for the conversation to stray to my ex-boyfriend. Best decision I ever made was swearing off serious dating after Miles and I broke up.
Before the dinner becomes a referendum on my nonexistent dating life, I shift the focus. “As ifyouever bring anyone home for me to meet, Ma.”
She nearly chokes on her drink. “I’m an old lady. It’s different.”
The table explodes with avid disagreement. “You’re not old, you’re a catch!” “You could be Elise’s sister!” “Girl, you’re still rocking it!”
My mother blushes and stands up to grab another pitcher of chilled mango-infused tea from the fridge.
“That’s enough. I’m not fishing for compliments,” she says with a wave of the hand. “Hailee, how about you. Any news about the job market?”
We all shift our focus to professional opportunities—or lack of them—in universities and colleges. As always, nothing interests my mother more than people with full bellies, wide smiles, and promising futures.
It’s just that, sometimes, when she calls herself an old lady, I feel the sting of it. She is not old. There’s a whole lifetime of adventures ahead. It’s as if my father’s death closed a chapter that she refuses to revisit.
When was the last party she attended that wasn’t a fundraiser? Antique shopping with her best friend or community center bingo might count for a decent social life, but they’re no substitute for true companionship. She used to love going out dancing or traveling with Dad. Now she barely leaves the state of Ohio.
After our dinner guests help clean the kitchen and take home the leftovers my mother packed, she and I huddle in front of the television with our tea and ginger cookies.
“What should we watch tonight?America’s Got TalentorThe Tudors?” she asks, reaching for the remote.
I don’t answer right away, which draws her attention.
“What’s wrong, Elise? Is the garlic giving you gas again? The hot tea should help. Or get Tums from the pantry.”
“Ma! You do not have to worry about my gas,” I say with an amused snort.
One brow raises. “I’ll be watching TV with you for the next hour. Taking care of your gas is for me, too,” she teases.
Before I lose my nerve, I rush to ask, “Would you ever consider dating again?”
Shaking her head, she harumphs. “Where is this coming from?”
“You called yourself an old lady tonight, and that’s not true. You’re young and vibrant. Any man would be lucky to date you.”
She deserves more excitement, more variety, more affection. Geraldine Chen deserves more of everything, including a second chance at a loving relationship. Conversations like the one tonight remind me that I’m not the one who needs to ramp up my dating life. It’s been almost ten years. My mother needs to get her groove on.
“This again?”
“Don’t tell me you don’t get lonely.”
“I don’t get lonely,” she repeats stubbornly. For a brief instant, Ma looks like she’s about to say something but stops herself.
“What is it?” I attempt to prompt her.
“You don’t have to worry about me, Elise.”
“But aren’t you bored of the same things? No one will ever replace Dad; that’s not what this is about. Wouldn’t it be nice to try new things? New places?”
“I’ll go withyou,” she states chirpily.
