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“Hi, Dr. Robinson. It’sCarly.”
I feel my mom’s gaze on me. “Hi. Your shift’s supposed to end atsix.”
“Yeah, well, we got caught up on your samples. Including the new one.” She sounds a little out of breath, as if she took thestairs.
“That’s great.” I frown because it feels as if I’m missing the punch line. “And you’re callingbecause…?”
“I wanted to let youknow.”
“Right. Thanks.” She’s still on the line. I can hear her breathing. “So did you send me theresults?”
“Just doing it. Well… have a goodnight.”
“Who was that?” my mom asks after I hang up, feigninginnocence.
“A woman who works in the lab on a project I got drawninto.”
I don’t tell her about the app, because she’s always been proud of my principles and what I’ve accomplished for the sake of science. I don’t want to tell her the financial hole I’m in. If she knew the extent of it, she wouldn’t have let me cover my dad’s funeral expenses and half his medicalbills.
I pull out another box of magazines, which I assume are also on the choppingblock.
“You shouldn’t be at your mother’s house on a Thursdaynight.”
“Where should I be?” I ask, mostly for something tosay.
“I don’t know. Where men in their late twenties are. In a nightclub orsomething.”
I blink up at her. “In a nightclub. You think I’m 50Cent?”
She makes a dismissive gesture. “You need someone in your life. You spend too much time alone. It’s nothealthy.”
I turn back to the shelf. “I do not. I need a tenure-track position at a college with a good life sciencesprogram.”
“What happens after you getit?”
I’m at a loss for a moment because every second I spend thinking about things other than my goal is wasted. “I’ll deal with that when I getthere.”
“What about the girl whocalled?”
I finish pulling the records off the shelf, and a neat stack of thirty or so sits in front of me. I push up off the floor, retrieve the albums, and stop next to my mother’s meddling face. “Notinterested.”
She sighs as I walk toward the kitchen. “I don’t know what it’s like at Baden, but there are dozens of eligible people walking through the clinic everyday.”
“You date, then,” I retort over myshoulder.
I feel like a dick the second I sayit.
My mom and dad are the quintessential couple. Strongestever.
Were.
I set the albums with the others by the door and brush my hands on my jeans. When I return to the kitchen, my mother looks uncomfortable.Way to go,asshole.
But she paints on a smile. “Let me get the menu. They added new specialrolls.”
She leaves the room, and I rub my hands over myface.
I’d say my mom and I are close, but as a kid, I was always closer with mydad.
