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I sighed and forced a smile. “How are you two doing?”
“Not well,” Mom said with an air of indignation. “You’ve been in Sunville for how many days now and you haven’t bothered to call or visit! If it weren’t for your sister letting us know, you probably would have come and gone without telling us.”
“You know that’s not true, Mom.”
“Do I know that? You never call or visit us anymore.”
I grimaced. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’ve been really busy with work. You know how busy I can get.”
Dad scoffed. “Busy? You look like you’re on vacation. What hotel are you staying at? Is the newspaper putting you up? You could have just come home, you know.”
Mom waved him off. “We turned your bedroom into a mini-gym, but you’re more than welcome to stay in Winona’s old room.”
I gritted my teeth. I loved my parents, but sometimes they were grating as hell.
Stifling was probably the best way to describe them. It was true that I hadn’t been down to visit in quite some time, but transforming my childhood room into something they weren’t ever going to use? It made it pretty damn clear which of their daughters was their favorite.
“I didn’t want to trouble you,” I said quickly. “Work’s been keeping me on my toes. Early mornings, late nights. It’d only inconvenience you.”
Dad squinted at the phone. “Aren’t you an editor? I thought you were the boss.”
“No, Dad, I’m—”
“You know, Winona runs her own business,” Mom reminded me, not at all as casual as she thought she sounded. “She sets her own hours. She’s her own boss. Why can’t you do something similar?”
“Because that’s not how my industry works.”
“You were always such a good writer,” Dad continued, totally ignoring me. “Why don’t you write fiction and get your books published? I have an old friend in the industry that could introduce you to a literary agent.”
“I don’t want to write stories,” I insisted. “I mean, technically Idowrite stories, but not those kinds of stories.”
“We just think you’re wasting your talents, dear ,” Mom said. “You have so much potential. If you wrote books, you’d probably have a lot more time for other things.”
I frowned. I knew where this was going, but I dared to ask anyway. “What other things?”
“Settling down, of course!”
“Ugh, not this again.”
“Winona’s already got two kids of her own, a wonderful husband,andshe owns a house.”
“In Los Angeles!” Dad pointed out with pride.
“We’re concerned for you, that’s all,” Mom said. “You should settle down, give us a couple more grandkids. You’re not getting any younger, you know.”
“I’m only twenty-nine,” I grumbled.
“And fertility starts to decline around thirty!”
“Mom.”
“Just think about it, dear,” she continued, steam rolling right over me. “You’re not where you want to be in your career right now, you’ve told us as much. Sometimes it’s alright to reevaluate your life’s goals. If you need help meeting a nice guy—”
“I don’t.”
“—my friend Martha has a son your age. Granted, he has a bit of a gambling habit, and he does smoke, but you can work out the kinks with him later. Here, let me give you his number.”
“I’m seeing someone!” I snapped without thinking. All I wanted was for the conversation to end, but now I realized my outburst was going to open a massive can of worms.
