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“Mmm… no,” Luna replies.
“Thank God,” I breathe out and high-five my nine-year-old daughter before tossing the flyer in the trash. I want the choice to be hers of course, but my own scout experience is not a fond one, and I was not looking to relive it through her. “Okay, moving on,” I return my attention to the stack of flyers in my hand that advertise “opportunities” for my child for the summer that she’s brought home in her backpack. Today was the last day of the school year, and I’m wasting no time. I’m all about the extra curriculars with Luna, and I like her to pick two every season to keep her busy and engaged and all that. “Ooh, it’s time for basketball camp again,”
“Yes!” she pipes up from her afternoon snack of peanut butter on graham crackers and bananas.
“That’s what I like to hear,” I warmly tell her as I turn to put that flier with the info on the fridge. I love being a basketball mom, and Luna is getting seriously good at it. “Okay, there’s two left: dancing and art class,” I announce, turning back to her while waving the last two fliers.
“Art! Definitely yes!” Her brown eyes light up and crinkle at the sides, and as always, I try to latch onto the joy I see in them, rather than how she got them. Ever since my brother’s fiancée came into our lives and introduced Luna to art, she’s had a passion for it that I just adore. It just amazes me what she can do with a blank sheet of paper. I even have a whole wall in the dining room devoted to her masterpieces.
“Alright, kiddo,” I praise as I put the art class flier on the fridge with the basketball one and toss the dance sign-up in the trash. “I’ll get those set up tomorrow. Good choices!” She smiles gleefully at me before looking back down at her plate and popping another bite in her mouth. I let out a content sigh as I start tidying up the kitchen, happy at how well-rounded my daughter is turning out to be, despite my having to act as both mother and father to her. I mentally cross my fingers that it continues. She’s only nine after all. “Now, what do you say you get crackin’ on your daily reading so you can get it out of the way?”
She doesn’t look thrilled, but nods her head thoughtfully as she chews before picking up her plate and coming over to place it in the sink.
“You know,” I remind her, “we get to go to the bridal shop tomorrow and try on your dress…” I raise my voice and draw out the last word, hoping to get her psyched. It works.
Her eyebrows shoot up with a happy gasp. “I didn’t know that! Ooooh, I can’t wait to see it!” she exclaims through clenched teeth because she’s smiling so hard, and pumps both her fists inward.
“And we might even get to see Aunt Melanie try hers on, finally!” I sprinkle on top of the weekend prospects. I’ve already seen Melanie’s dress, but Luna hasn’t. I’ve helped her shop while Luna’s been in school, but I let on that I have no idea what it looks like and that I’ll be just as surprised to see it.
I also get to do my future sister-in-law’s hair which has me pumped. She’s come into the salon on the days she’s been in the city and we play around with possible styles, and since I’m still new in the field, I jump at every opportunity to try things.
A year and a half ago, my brother, Matt, finally talked me into accepting his help in bettering my life. As a recovering addict, having certain stressors can be a much harder challenge for me than it is for those that don’t live with it. I was determined to take care of myself and Luna on my own. My mentality was that if others had to do it, so should I.
But when my secretary job got to be so grueling with my stiff and demanding boss, my defenses were dropping noticeably day by day. Matt and I both knew that I was in danger of relapsing, and something had to change. I finally swallowed my pride when he insisted we find a way to help me out of it. Together, we decided I just needed to be in a happier, more comfortable place that would reduce the stress in my life and make me less susceptible. I also realized that if it were someone else in my situation that was offered that kind of help, I’d sure as hell want them to take it.
Long story short, I let Matt pay for me go to cosmetology school, something I’d always wanted to do. When it compares to the income his rock band has pulled in, he insists it’s chump change, especially if it would make me happier and stronger.
“Are you still going out tonight, Mom?” Luna asks, as she starts going through her books to find one to settle down with.
Unfortunately.
She simply looks curious, not let down in the least, since she knows what my going out means for her.
“Yeah, you and Lizzie will have a girl’s night tonight.”
She grins at the idea of my best friend coming over to spend the evening painting nails, watching scary movies, and ordering pizza with her while I go out on what is sure to be failed date number sixty-seven. It’s sad that it’s reached a point where I can pretty much call it before it happens, and that my ideal Friday night would include a pint of Ben & Jerry’s, watching the latest straight-to-Netflix rom-com, and going to bed with my trusty hot-pink, six-speed vibrator.
All the dates I’ve gone on in the last two years have completely fallen flat, and it feels like watching the same bad movie on repeat.
I’ve actually moved back in with my parents, you know, to save money.
So you don’t drink? That’s fine, mind if I do?
My ex this, my ex that.
I, I, I, I, me, me, me, I, I, me, me, me, me…
They’re all some variation of the same thing. You get the gist.
Why do I keep going out, you ask? Good question. Pretty much to say I did. I couldn’t ask for a better life right now, but it is pretty routine, and I believe it’s healthy to get out, meet someone new, and keep things fresh. And I guess you could say I haven’t completely given up on the idea of meeting someone special enough to bring home to Luna.
Still, it might be time to take a hiatus; give this hamster wheel a breather. After tonight’s date. I’m not going to be a dick and cancel on a guy last minute. Besides, maybe he’ll pleasantly surprise me.
Chapter Two
Kasey
So far,so good. By that I mean this guy was only ten minutes late, and he actually looks like his dating app photo. I’ll even go so far as to say he’s even better looking in person. He’s got kind of an older Zac Efron thing going on. Too bad his conversation depth is comparable to one of those small, plastic kiddie pools.
