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We sit in the same chairs we have since I was a child. Mom to my right, Dad on the left, and Shelly across from me. Dad fills glasses with sauvignon blanc while Mom lights the two candles in the table centerpiece. Nothing fancy. Just the norm.
Quiet consumes the first few minutes around the table as we taste the meal. I sample a little of each before the silence is broken.
“Excellent as always, Nicole.”
“Agreed,” I follow after Dad. “Really wish I had your cooking skills, Mom.”
Mom eyes Dad across the table as her cheeks pink. “Thank you.” Eyes that mirror mine shift my direction after breaking contact with Dad. “And you, too.” She cuts and pierces a piece of pork loin. “We can try cooking lessons again. If you want.”
One trait I love about Mom… she never gives up. I may burn or undercook every dish I attempt, but Mom still holds on to hope. I love how she feels I am not a lost cause.
“Maybe.” I reach over and rub her forearm. “Might be best to start with recipes written for kids, though.”
The entire table erupts in laughter. Years have passed since I cared whether or not I got teased in the cooking department. Can’t be good at everything. May as well own it.
“I’d love that, Micah. Let me dig up some recipes and we’ll plan a day to get together.”
“Sounds great, Mom.”
So far, tonight has gone smooth. Shelly had me frazzled for days. Worried about conversations over relationships and grandchildren. But the night has been normal. Good food, smiles and laughter. Everything I love about my parents and where we grew up. Couldn’t be more perfect.
“Shelly,” Dad starts and she turns to face him. “Still seeing that nice young man from the Italian market?”
And… I jinxed us.
Thank goodness she swallowed her bite before he finished speaking. Her eyes flit to mine and beg for help. But I have nothing. The second I come to her defense, Mom will jump on me with a similar question. Then we will both sweat under the spotlight. Better to let her go first, then I will follow. Cruel, yes. But that’s what older siblings do.
Shelly stabs a potato with pent-up aggression. “No, Dad. We went on one date and I felt really uncomfortable.” I widen my eyes at her and she shrugs. “He didn’t do anything wrong. Just a vibe.”
Dad takes her hand and consoles her. “Never be upset for turning down someone who makes you uneasy. I will always be in your corner. You mean the world to us, Shelly Bear.”
“Same,” I say. Speaking up and agreeing with Dad is right. I will always be there for my sister and family. In a heartbeat. And they will do the same.
The seriousness of the moment fades and we all breathe easier. Then, Mom shifts her attention toward me and whips out her inquisition claws. Damn it.
“What about you, Micah? Is there a special lady in your life we should know about?”
Why? Why did I agree to this? And why are our parents pestering us about our romance lives? Well, lack of romance.
What spurred this on? Dad had his annual birthday checkup with Doctor Harris not long ago. Hopefully, it all went well and this isn’t Mom and Dad’s way of saying they don’t have much time left. I don’t enjoy their nosiness, but I would take it over bad health any day of the week.
“No, Mom. Can’t seem to nail down the right one.” Which is not a lie. Mom just won’t hear my words how I mean them.
We all quiet and go back to eating. I chew the pork and potatoes way longer than necessary. Keep my mouth busy in case one of my parents decides to pry further. I pray the relationship talk will stay where it is. In the past. And once again, I should quit thinking. It’s as if Mom or Dad have a sixth sense, as if they hear my every thought or pick up on the exact vibe of my mood.
“With the massive population in the area and technology, I figured my kids would’ve married by now,” Mom mutters before biting her roll.
Why didn’t I put a contingency plan in place? Should have asked Gavin to text or call. He does owe me a favor, after all. Or have Cora do the same with Shelly. Both of us came here knowing our parents were on a mission. To marry us off and make us baby factories. Not really, but that is how it feels under the current spotlight.
Part of me wants to counter Mom’s comment. But if I open my mouth, it will fuel the fire. So, I bite my tongue. My sister, on the other hand, didn’t get the memo to keep her mouth shut.
“You’d think with the massive population and all the dating apps, there wouldn’t be thousands of creepy guys in the area.” Shelly shrugs, then stabs the pork loin on her plate with pent-up anger. Shit. “But most only want one thing. And it isn’t commitment.” She shovels the bite in her mouth and doesn’t look up.
My blood boils that Shelly feels the need to defend herself like this. Especially to our parents. Are they aware of her lack of sexual experience? Doubtful. If they were, there is no way they’d be so eager to push her into the arms of a random guy. All for some picture-perfect idea they have in their heads.
“Surely, they’re not all bad.”
That’s it. Conversation over. “Mom!” I bark out. Her fork freezes halfway to her mouth. “Drop it.”
“Micah, don’t speak to your mother with that tone.”
My eyes dart to Dad. “Don’t mean to be cruel. But this conversation… it’s uncomfortable. For both of us.”
“Sorry, sweetheart.” Mom rubs Shelly’s forearm. “Just don’t want either of you to miss out on the opportunity to have a family of your own.”
I turn back to Mom, softening my tone as I speak. “I get it. But have you given thought as to why we aren’t with someone? Sure, I could stay with a random hookup—”
“Micah,” Dad grumbles.
“No, Dad. Hear me out.” I set my fork down, wipe my mouth, and fold my arms across my chest. “Is it so wrong for Shelly to be picky? Shouldn’t she wait for the guy—or girl—that makes her happy? She has her own reasons for being single.” Shelly’s eyes widen. “Which are none of our business unless she wants to share.”
“Okay, we’re sorry,” Dad says with sincerity. “Hope you understand this conversation came from a place of love.” He and Mom look at each other, then us.
“We do,” I answer. “And as soon as either of us wants to introduce someone, we will. So, please, can we not bring this up again?”
