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I needed to move on.
I’d been hesitant to answer in the affirmative to Mom’s invitation and accept another blind date tonight. On impulse, I reached for my phone and gave the delayed reply.
Me: Okay, I’ll do it.
Mom: You don’t seem all that excited.
Me: How do you know what I sound like? It’s a text.
That was the wrong thing to say. The minute I clocked out after work ended, while walking myself to my rusted red Ford in January’s almost seventy-degree evening, my phone rang.
I swiped to answer. “Hey, Mom.”
“Hi, sweetie. So good to hear your voice. Texting really has its merits, but you’re right. Conversations in person are much better.”
I wasn’t sure I’d ever said anything like that, but clearly, Mom had construed as much from our conversation.
“What’s up, Mom?”
“I have a better idea than a blind date,” Mom said.
I fumbled with my bag but managed to retrieve my keys and unlock the door. I chucked my bag into the empty passenger seat and slid inside.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“How about a mother-daughter date?” Mom said. “Just you and me. Like old times.”
Growing up, Mom had taken me out quite a bit—for back-to-school shopping or to get dinner on nights when Dad was gone for work and Mom didn’t want to cook. My heart swelled at the suggestion. I missed those days.
I stared at my reflection in the rear-view mirror. “You know, that would be great.”
“Perfect,” Mom said. “Have you had dinner yet?”
I trailed my fingers on the steering wheel. “Not yet. Just got off work.”
“What sounds good to you?”
We chatted for a few minutes about a location and then agreed to meet there. My heart felt like a flowerbed in spring, when the dead leaves and mulch had been cleared to make way for flowers to push through the dirt. Hope leaped inside of me, but I couldn’t account for it. I wasn’t exactly sure what it was I hoped for.
The change in monotony—having something else to do besides go home to my apartment—was enough for now.
I drove through town and pulled into the parking lot of Bread and Cheese Land, our favorite sandwich place. I lingered in my car, checking my email on my phone. Once Mom’s golden minivan appeared in my mirror, I stepped out into the evening air.
I’d given Mom a hard time for picking such a big vehicle when it was only ever me at home since my sister had married and moved away. But Mom always insisted she needed the space.
“Hey, my Gracie Goose,” Mom said, pulling me into a hug. She wore a full-length cotton dress with beige and white stripes and sandals, her graying hair pulled back away from her lined face.
I hadn’t been one-on-one with her since Christmas. Knowing I’d been absorbed in finishing my novel, my parents had passed by or popped in to say hi, but nothing more extensive than that.
“Hey, where’s Dad?” I asked.
“Working late.” Mom made it to Bread and Cheese Land’s door.
She opened it. I smiled and entered, inhaling the delectable scent of freshly baked bread smattered with spices. We ordered—turkey and cheese with avocado for me, and a meatball sub for Mom—and then took our usual spot by the back window where we once used to sit and people-watch when I’d been in high school.
That was a favorite pastime. I used to come with a notebook and just write people:
What they wore. How they smiled. How they interacted with one another.
