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~E~
"Emma,you're only getting older, you know."
"I know, Mom, I know. You love to remind me of that." I rein in what I really want to say because I don't feel like arguing with her again, and ending up with a scolding that will make me feel five-years-old all over, and send me to my very own psychiatrist.
"Will you please go on a date with Curt? You'll adore him. What's not to love?" I roll my eyes at her question. Oh, there's a lot not to love, like his 'gag me' pretentiousness,orthat he's grown up with an unusual amount of wait staff. He can't even tie his own shoes.
"I said I'd think about it." I pull into the parking lot of my office building, sliding into my favorite spot.
"You said you'd think about it weeks ago. What're you waiting for?" My mom snaps into the phone. Who has the attitude now?
"Your track record of dates you've set me up with in the past doesn't make me jump for joy, Mom. I'd rather find someone on my own."
"But, Emma, that's what you don't get.Youhaven't found the one. And sometimes, you don't follow all of my rules." She picks at me, resulting in another eyeroll. If I roll my eyes any harder, I'll be stuck with apermanenteye roll.
"Give it a rest, okay? I'm keeping things simple right now. My job's stressful at the moment, and I don't need more complications."
"I told you a long time ago not tobecomea shrink,Em." She says the word shrink with that tone in her voice, instant disapproval. I tune her out as my eyes stray to the shiny, black truck pulling into the parking lot. My smile drops as her voice penetrates my semi-fog. I huff into the phone.
"Em. Emma. Listen to me this instant," she snaps into the phone. "I am going to make the date for you."
That definitely pulls me out of the fog. "Mother. You will do no such thing. I need to let you go. I will get back to you when, and if, I want or need your help. Have a good day." I end the call before she can say more.
I don't know why I have let her bully me all these years over these damned House Rules, but enough is enough. My eyes are drawn back to the shiny truck that pulled into the parking lot.
How does she still get to me? Our conversation was less than five minutes and I can still feel her disapproval pulsing through me...
'You didn't want to listen to me. Life is hard enough without having to help other people with their problems all day, too.'
'It's called helping them cope better with this shit we calllife.' I spew, unable to hold back my attitude any longer. She gets on my nerves, as she has since I became a hormonal teenager. Judgement rolls through her on a daily basis, never giving anyone a second thought, or even a consideration for their feelings.
'Emma, don't you dare talk to me that way. Nip that attitude and fast.
'I'll come by for lunch. How's that sound?' Her voice was suddenlysickeninglysweet, as if she’d choked down a spoonful of honey. 'We'll discuss Curt and his many attributes.'
'Sorry, not today, I have patients back to back.' I do have an hour for lunch, but lunch with my mother is not how I plan to spend it.
She blows out a frustrated breath. She's dying to get her claws in me about Curt. When will she grasp that she can't force me to love. Or follow her stupid rules. 'Then tonight. For dinner?'
'No, Mom, I'm working late. I'llcallyou later this week.'
'Later this week? I don't think so. Emma. I need to see you soon.'
Thank god I ended the call when I did. I rub the back of my neck, hoping to ease some tension. I swear my mother loves to irk me.
Taking a deep breath, my nerves begin to steady, or try to. Sitting in my car, staring at my office building, I glance at the clock—8:25 am. Five more minutes to dwell on life.
A car horn sounds behind me, causing me to jump. My heart pounds at the rude intrusion. What they were beeping at, I have no idea.
I stare in rapt attention, wondering who's inside. Maybe a newpatient. Or the new therapist starting today. The windows are covered in a dark tint, giving me no clues.
Shit, that's right. A new therapist starts today.
I groan inwardly at the thought.It's not that I mind new people at work; it's thedisruptionto my work day. But our cute receptionist said he's smoking hot; her handy new-age tech skills scoping him out.
Come out of the truck, come out of the truck. My inner thoughts fail me.
