Page 122 of Once a Month

“What? I’m allowed to ask; I’m the mother.”

“She’s nice,” I say.

“Nice?”

“She’s great. I’m sure she’ll make a great girlfriend for someone; maybe even a wife one day, if that’s what she wants.”

“Oh, honey, no. What happened?”

“Nothing happened. We went out for dinner.”

“You just told me that she’s great.”

“She is great.”

“Is there no chemistry? Did she do something or–”

“She’s just not the one for me, Mom,” I tell her.

“She’s a doctor who comes from a good family.”

“All that’s true. I can’t really explain it, Mom. It’s not there for me.”

“I give up,” she says. “You’re on your own. But I want grandchildren.”

“You already have grandchildren,” I say, laughing.

“I want them from you, too,” she says.

I laugh again, roll my eyes, and we finish our call. I think of that dinner date and how amazing the woman really was. She was kind and sweet and made me feel like all of her attention was on me, despite the fact that she’s a busy doctor with patients and was technically on call, so she couldn’t drink the wine she still insisted we order so that I could enjoy it. She also held my hand as we left the restaurant and then kissed me sweetly when she dropped me off on my doorstep. The problem was that later that night, when I was in bed, getting myself off, I wasn’t thinking about her.

I can’t believe I’m going to miss this month’s party.

“God, she’s going to think I don’t want to be there because I’m dating someone,” I say to myself. “Fuck.”

Not knowing what to do, I continue to work until dinnertime. Then, I pack up and head home. I have no other option – I need her to know why I’m not going to be there. I pick up my computer, log in, and find the messaging center. I type out my email, hit send, and wait. When I hear back the next day, they accept my request to pass along my message, but not that the other member will get back to me. I take my chance anyway. I send the email and wait again. The waiting is the worst part, and I’m back to taking my personal laptop to work again so I can check incessantly to see if they respond. I’m at home when I finally get an email.

Hey,

It’s me. My number is below. You can call me whenever.

It’s not signed, but I know it’s her. She gave me her number, and now, I have to dial it. I agonize over this for hours, though. Do I just call, like she says? Do I text first? Yeah, I should text first. What the hell should I text her? I’m lying in my bed, staring at my phone, unable to do anything with it. I start picturing all of our moments together, and instead of helping me come up with what to message, they turn me on so much, I make myself come. Then, I take a cold shower. Finally, I lie back down and send a quick message of ‘Can I call you’ just to finally get it done. A second later, I get a response. I smile and call.

“Hello?” she says.

“Hi,” I say.

“Hi,” she replies.

“Well, we’re making progress,” I joke.

God, I’m nervous. This woman has touched every single part of my body, and I’m nervous just to talk to her on the phone.

She laughs and says, “Sorry. I don’t exactly know how to do this.”

“Neither do I,” I say. “I just knew I needed to talk to you.”

“How’s your dad?” she asks.

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