Luke Logan

Chapter 4

The next  day.

It is Saturday morning and I am woken up by a thunderstorm.

This is by far my favorite kind of weather.  There is just something so soothing about the sound of rain. It makes me feel like I am where I am supposed to be, like I belong. It makes me feel as if mother nature is holding me close and comforting me. Reminding me that everything will be fine, that no matter what I am feeling or going through, it will all be worth it in the end. It gives me hope. The rain reminds me that her tears cleanse all.  

I look outside my window, as I often do when it rains like this. I could easily  spend hours watching the willow tree in the distance sway to the rhythm of the wind as if it is dancing to the pitter patter of the rain drops.  

This is my happy place, the perfect way to start the weekend. 

 My bliss has was abruptly crumpled and stomped on by a call from mom, aka mother. 

Mom: “hey hon, mom here”

“Hey ma.” I replied

Mom: “I’m just checking in on you.” She continued to say “ Don’t forget that you’re having dinner with us tonight. Remember to bring the dessert” 

“Ok ma, thanks for reminding me, do you need any help with the cooking?” I ask, trying to sound like the daughter she has always wanted me to be.

Mom: “No thanks, I’ll be fine. Just  remember to dress up, I’ve invited a few extra people.” She replied.

“A few extra people? Like who?” I ask hoping that this was not another one of her attempts to set me up. I have always admired her selective memory. She has set me up on countless blind dates, all of which have been absolute disasters, some might even describe them as train wrecks or epic failure that unequivocally advocate for the banishment of blind dates especially those arranged by female parental figures.

Mom: “Don’t worry about it, just show up, around 5. Remember to make an effort” 

“Ok”, I say, completely ignoring the ‘make and effort’ bit. 

Mom: “love you my angel” 

“Love you too ma”, see you later. 

To be fair, I can’t blame her, I’m not exactly known for playing dress up or being a girly girl type of woman, especially for dinner with the folks. I have always been a tomboy who blossomed into someone that cherished my comfort over looking fashionable or prissy.

I really hope she’s not trying to set me up again with some guy she met somewhere. She’s always trying to set me up with every single man she meets, everyone worse than the last.  

I can hear her now “ at your age my angel, you need to be thinking about settling down. You’ll  wake up a few years from now, still single with only your laptop to keep you warm at night. As long as he has a job and is responsible, you should be fine. You shouldn’t be too pick baby. Love is not like in the movies, it’s not always fireworks and sparks. Sometimes love needs a chance to grow, an opportunity to bloom” 

I must have heard that speech 3 times a week since I turned 25. Hopefully one day she will realize that there’s more to life than being a relationship for the sake of not being single. 

Granted I’m miserable sometimes, and always struggle with +1 events, but I like my life. I love my job, I  enjoy my own company. I won’t settle for any old man just because they asked me out. 

Oooo snap, dosed off again, it’s 3 pm already. Need to dash to the market, get dessert, come home and get “all pretty” for mom’s dinner tonight. 

I don’t even know what I’ll do with my hair tonight. As much as I love rain, It does not play nice with my hair. 

I won’t have time, I might as well get the “pretty” part done now and dash to the store. Maybe show up early for once.  Spice up the evening. 

I think I’ll wear that classic, short sleeve, knee high, V-neck  black number I bought last month, that is snug in all the right places and makes me feel like a beautiful and defiant model.  This dress manages to accentuate m breasts, waist and hips. It makes me feel beautiful.

I can’t believe it took me 30 minutes just to decide what to wear after my shower. There’s no time to fuss over hair, a ponytail will have to do.  

Shoes … mascara … lip gloss and off I go. 

It’s quite surprising how many people are out shopping in such rainy weather, they too must have pushy and exasperating moms. 

Dessert isle... dessert isle, where is it? As always right at the end.  How can there possibly be so many options? With my luck, there is no one around to help me pick. This needs to be right, I can’t have another “You really need to start making an effort Alexandra, that’s the plight of all women” speech. I just can’t!

There are just too many to choose from! 

I think I’ve narrowed it down to 5, and still can’t decide. Maybe I should just get them all and she can choose which she serves? Grrrrr I hate this. I should have made something.  

Oh what the heck, chocolate brownies, whipped cream and ice cream it will have to be.  

All I have to do is pay for these babies and I’ll be 25min early.

Look at me being all grown up I think to myself while doing an internal victory dance.

“Perfect choice” said a voice behind me in the queue. I had to hold on the shelf next to me because that voice… that voice… it made my knees weak.

I hate to admit it, but I know that voice. As the last time I heard it, again it did something.