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What a shitastic day.
I was in a mood. I’d been in a mood since Damian informed me about the lost property. A mood bad enough that I doubted any of my favorite things would’ve been able to pull me from my grump-fest. Whenever I was in a mood, I needed two things: Mom and Cheetos.
After stuffing my face with Cheetos Puffs, I picked up my cell phone and called the only woman willing to have heart-to-hearts with me when I was cranky. My number one spot on speed dial.
“Hey, sweetheart. How’s it going?” Mom asked when she answered my call.
I sat back in my chair and groaned.
She knew exactly what that groan meant, too.
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. Do you want me to fly out to New York to make you some chicken and dumplings? You shouldn’t be alone right now.”
I almost took her up on the offer. What could I say? I was a mama’s boy and talking to her always made the failures seem less harsh.
“I’m good, Mom. Just wanted to feel a piece of home tonight.”
“How about you come home for a quick visit?” she urged. “Kentucky is missing you.”
I’d been in NYC since I was eighteen years old, and just last month, I turned twenty-eight. With each day that passed, New York felt more like home base. The only thing missing was Mom’s love and cooking.
“I’ll be down there in a few weeks for a visit. Until then, I have a lot of work to do.”
It was her turn to groan, and I knew exactly what that groan meant, too.
“Work, work, work,” she complained. “Don’t you ever want to make time for play?”
“Play doesn’t bring you income,” I said.
“But it brings you the important things. Don’t you think it’s time you settled down with someone? Maybe give me a few grandbabies. Or, heck, I’ll take a grand fur baby at this point. You can’t stay cooped up in your house and office all the time, Connor. You have to put yourself out there to experience real life.”
You know how I said Mom was almost always in my number-one spot? She only slipped a little when she’d scold me for not having a life outside of working.
I wasn’t built to be the family man. I decided that a long time ago when I chose to give myself to my work. I was only twenty-eight years old, but I had the income of an eighty-year-old man who’d worked his life to death. I’d spent the past decade of my life hustling hard to build my empire. With that gift, I had to let go of some other things, like relationships and family. I didn’t have the time for it. It would be selfish for me to bring a woman into my life and not give her my all. At least that was the bullshit reason I gave people. The truth of the matter was relationships terrified me. Giving someone your all to only have it taken away some day? No thank you. Not interested.
“I hear you, Mom.” I lied to get her to pull back on the topic.
“Don’t say that to get me to shut up, Connor Ethan. I mean it. Make time for the important stuff. After beating cancer twice, I know how much that important stuff means. Money isn’t everything.”
“But it’s enough,” I joked. “Really, Mom. I hear you. I’ll work on putting myself out there.”
“Liar.”
What could I say? She knew me well.
“Listen to your mother, Connor. What’s the point of having an empire if you have no one to pass it down to once your time comes to an end?”
“I already have charities lined up to give everything to, so we’re all set there.” She sighed, and I felt bad.
“Connor Ethan, don’t upset your mother. Promise me you’ll do at least one thing that isn’t work-related. You’ll find a hobby over the next few weeks.”
“Mom—”
“Promise me! On my life!”
I hated when she did that. I hated when she made me promise on her life because I knew I could never break that promise. After you’d watched your mother battle cancer twice, after you’ve shaved your head multiple times with her in a small bathroom with a cheap electric razor, you realized how important said mom’s life was.
I’d never make a promise on her life if I had no drive to keep that word. The desperation in her voice was almost too painful to bear. She worried about me being lonely.
