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1
CARTER
“Have a good weekend!” I call out as I leave work for the day, waving as the room of pharmacists, researchers, and QA testers pack up their own belongings and get ready to head home themselves.
I make sure to shoot them all a warm smile as I leave, but the moment I’m out of sight, the smile drops from my face. I never want my personal life to affect my work life if I can help it, but that’s been getting harder and harder lately.
Slipping a hand into my suit pocket, I pull out my phone. I don’t even have to search for my mom’s number – she’s already the first person on my call list, and the second, and the third. In fact, my call history over the last few weeks is just a string of her name, with a couple of instances of my sister peppered in there for good measure.
“Hey, Mom,” I say after a couple of rings. “How are you feeling today?”
I know she hates talking about being sick, but I have to ask. With a ten percent chance of survival past five years for pancreatic cancer, it’s not exactly something that can be ignored. As usual, my mom does her best to ignore the question.
“Oh I’m fine, I’m fine,” she says. “But tell me, Carter, how was the blind date last night? Did you like her?”
I sigh, pulling out my car keys and clicking the button to unlock the doors to my BMW.
“It was okay,” I tell her reluctantly.
I wish she’d stop bugging me about finding someone, especially when there are much more important things happening in her life. Sometimes I wonder if she’s just using my non-existent love life as a distraction from what, realistically, is her own impending end. It’s something I hate to think about though, and not something I’d ever say out loud to her.
Maybe a distraction is the best thing she has right now, I think to myself.There’s nothing that can be done about the cancer, after all.
“Just okay?” comes my mom’s voice on the other end of the phone. “She seemed very nice when I met her in the grocery store.”
I shake my head, but I can’t help but smile a little.
“I’m sure she was, but we just didn’t really have anything to talk about,” I say, truthfully. “You know you don’t have to send every woman you see on the street my way, right?”
“I know,” she answers and I can hear a hint of sheepishness in her voice. “But what if the next one is The One?”
I have to laugh at this, even if I’m feeling a little annoyed at this endless string of blind dates.
“Mom, what if I don’t need The One? What if I’m perfectly happy being single?” I try to keep my tone light, even though I do mean it. The last thing I want to do is upset her.
“Carter, all I want is to see you find someone before I die,” she says. I’m a little startled to hear a rare admission from her that there’s even anything wrong. “Just humor me, will you?”
I sigh again, slipping into the car. “Alright,” I say. I know she just wants the best for me, even if this particular version of it isn’t necessarily what I want for myself.
“Great! So then I hope that means you’re looking forward to the date tonight!”
I almost groan, but manage to stop myself.
“Sure I am,” I tell her, even though we both know that isn’t true.
I definitely don’t have the heart to argue about it and besides, it seems to make her happy. Who am I to take that away from her under the circumstances?
“Have a wonderful date then, honey!” she coos before we bid our goodbyes.
I shake my head again, starting the car and driving home to get changed for what I’m already sure will be another waste of an evening.
At least I’m not the only one who knows how this will turn out. A commiserating text from my sister makes my phone chime just as I’m turning up to the restaurant.
Mom told me you have another date tonight. I hope it’s not as bad as all the others.
I chuckle quietly to myself, shooting back a quick text.
Thanks Heidi, but judging by the way these dates have been going, Mom’s scraping the bottom of the barrel at this point.
