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I’m met by silence from the entire table.
And then, Nate grins, leans back in his seat, and extends his arm across the back of the empty seat next to him. “Who?”
Shit.
Damn.
Why did I run withthat?
Mom waits expectantly for my reply.
Dad appears interested.
My parents act like the only way I’ll make it through life is by standing behind a man. They don’t think I’m capable of providing for myself. The way they’re both looking at me now is how they look at Nate when they ask him about his work. Besides checking in on my employment status, they never inquire about my work. The only thing they ask me about is my dating life.
“It’s still new,” I say.
“Well,” Mom says with a hint of impatience, “who is it?”
“I don’t want to say yet. Not until I decide if I’m going to continue seeing him.”
Nate eyes me with amusement. His expression saysgood luck with that.
“Why tell us you’ve met someone if you’ve no plans to tell us who?” Mom says.
“I thought you’d be interested to know.”
“We are,” she says. “I’m even more interested to know who. Please tell me it’s someone we know.”
My mother is nothing if not a snob.
“I imagine it’s someone you know.”
Mom’s impatience grows, but she doesn’t grill me any further. I can read her mind though. She’s already making plans to investigate. She’ll drag her sister in on the search. The two of them will do their best to uncover the name of the man she’ll pin all her fresh hopes of marriage on.
Poor Owen if either of them figure it out.
But yay for me (hopefully) hearing the end of all this Benjamin talk.
Nate comes to my rescue, changing the subject when he asks Mom, “So, what do you need me to help you with at the gala?”
They spend almost ten minutes discussing the gala.
I tune out, but am pulled back into the discussion when Mom asks Nate if he can help bring some of the people he knows through work to another gala she’s helping plan for an Inner-City Scholarship Fund that provides scholarships for disadvantaged children in New York.
I stare at her, wondering why she never asks me to help her in this way. This isn’t the first time she’s asked Nate to help her attract donors. It hurts that she’s never asked me once. It’s a completely irrational feeling because I’ve never shown an interest in her galas, yet I’m feeling it. I wish my mother saw me as more than just a daughter who needs to be married off.
“I could help.” The words are out of my mouth before I can slow them down.
Mom stops talking and looks at me, blinking like she doesn’t know what to say. Then, she dismisses me. “You’re busy with your job and your new boyfriend. Let’s leave this with Nate.”
My mother needs to be dragged into the twenty-first century and I need to be the one to do that.
“I’m not too busy, Mom, and I know a lot of people who I can put you in contact with.”
What are these words leaving my mouth?
“Oh, Charlize, I don’t think—”
