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“Hi, Mom,” she said.
Tight arms around her, a warm, strong MomHug, before she released Teresa, before she pulled back, gripping her arms, and staring at her face, declaring, “You’re not sleeping enough.”
“I’m fine, Mom. Just a busy week at work.”
Narrowed eyes, a deep inhale, the exhale releasing her next words. “You work too much.”
Here it went.
“You’ll never get married if you work too much.”
Hey, Mom,she felt like saying.Funny story, but I don’t actually want to get married. Kids are a fifty-fifty, but marriage is a definite no.
That would bescandalous.
“Dad said you cooked?”
Her mom paused, probably weighing whether or not it would be worth continuing to argue with her stubborn daughter. Thankfully, she appeared to decide to table the argument because then she wove her arm through Teresa’s, and they went into the kitchen.
Which, admittedly, smelled delicious.
Her mom was a fabulous cook.
God knew she’d had plenty of time to practice at it.
She was also a great baker, a decent floral arranger, and could wrap presents with all the precision of a Hallmark employee.
Did they actually wrap presents there?
Maybe not.
But Teresa digressed.
The point was that her mom excelled at all things home and hearth, and that was fine. Whatwasn’tfine? That her mom thought Teresa’s entire existence needed to be that, too.
Find a good man.
Settle down.
Have babies.
Just thinking about the checklist her mom had tried to engrain in her over and over through her life practically gave Teresa hives.
She loved her life.
She wanted her mom to love what she was making of it, too.
But that wasn’t to be.
So, she dealt with it, spent her requisite time with her family—dinner with her brothers every other week, mani-pedi nights with her mom, Saturday projects with her dad, and meals as her mother arranged.
She loved them, loved the time together.
She just…wished they could see her.
Wished they could love her for who she was, not who they thought she should be.
“Come and sit down, baby,” her mom said, already pulling down plates and serving up some delicious smelling pasta. A bowl of salad was on the table, along with a basket of bread, a fruit salad, candles, and flowers. “You’re too skinny. You need to eat more.”
