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Chapter One
Monroe
“Mom, I’m very tired tonight,” I said over the phone while slamming the door to my apartment behind me. “I’m going to skip this family dinner.”
As soon as the words left my mouth, my mother began her tirade. High-pitched protests strung all together into one catlike snarl came out, and none of them approved of me not arriving at her house in less than half an hour.
I didn’t mind seeing my family, and my mom was one of the best cooks I knew, but it was the conversation, that inevitable one, I didn’t look forward to.
“Okay, okay. I’ll be there.”
She hung up. Her job was done.
I hopped in the shower and then got dressed. My hair was still wet, so I threw it up in a bun and called it a day.
Once I arrived, my mom ran to the door and hugged me, like minutes ago she hadn’t verbally assaulted me and my eardrums. “I’m glad you came.”
“Well, you kind of forced me to,” I commented and walked over to the couch where my dad and four brothers were yelling at the TV. “Hey, guys.”
They all grunted their hellos and made room for me to join them. We watched the game until my mom yelled that the food was ready. When I entered the kitchen, I saw all my brothers’ wives lined up, speaking in hushed tones.
“What?” I said as one of them eyed me.
“Nothing. We were hoping you would bring a date this time.”
I rolled my eyes. “Can we please not start this conversation until I’ve had dinner. I’m starving, and that particular subject makes me nauseous.”
That shut them up for a few minutes.
I came from a traditional family. Girls in the kitchen, boys watching football. I didn’t like it one bit. Once I found a husband, I would want an equal partnership.
When I was younger, I rebelled against it all. I dated a ton, had loads of fun, traveled a bit. Explored.
But eventually, I realized that the place I wanted to be most was at home, reading, in my comfiest clothes, preferably with a coffee cup in my hand.
So I got a job as a barista.
My family talked about all their life updates while we ate. I was on the receiving end of some serious side-eye from my mom.
Pressuring me only made me want to stay single longer.
Sarah, one of my sisters-in-law, put her fork down. My chest constricted. “Monroe? What about you? Anything new in your life?”
I nodded. “Yeah, there’s a new brown-sugar latte on the menu. It’s delicious.”
Everyone groaned.
“That’s not really what I meant.”
“I know. You really meant, am I dating, and when am I going to give up the books and simple life and get married already. Am I right?” I tried not to be mean, but it seeped right in despite my intentions.
“Well, yes. You’re not getting any younger.”
I sighed. “I am aware. I’m simply not in a hurry. It will happen if life wants it to happen.”
Another sister-in-law, Emma chimed in. “But sometimes life needs a little encouragement. How are you going to meet someone when all you do is work at the coffee shop and hide in your apartment. You even get your groceries delivered, Mon.”
I hated when they called me “Mon.” Monroe wasn’t so hard to say. Two syllables.
