CHAPTER 2 My Mother Thinks I'm a Lost Cause
1366 Words
If there was one thing Nathan Cole feared more than public speaking, taxes, and spiders that could fly—
It was his mother with free time.
Free time was dangerous.
Because when Mrs. Cole had nothing to do, she made it her personal mission to solve the world's problems.
And according to her, the world's biggest problem was her twenty-seven-year-old son who had never brought home a girlfriend.
Unfortunately for Nathan, Sunday mornings were her favorite hunting season.
Nathan woke up peacefully.
Too peacefully.
Birds chirped outside.
Sunlight entered through the window.
Everything felt calm.
Suspiciously calm.
He sat up and stretched.
"Ah, what a beautiful—"
His bedroom door flew open.
"NATHAN!"
He nearly jumped off the bed.
"Mother!"
Mrs. Cole stood there holding her phone.
Her expression was terrifying.
Not angry.
Worse.
Excited.
Nathan swallowed nervously.
"Should I start running?"
"Look!"
She shoved the phone in front of his face.
Nathan squinted.
It was a picture of a woman.
"Who's that?"
"Jessica."
"Okay."
"She's twenty-six."
"Wonderful."
"She's single."
Nathan slowly lay back down.
"I see."
"She works at a bank."
"Congratulations to her."
"And she's beautiful."
"I'm happy for Jessica."
His mother stared at him.
"Why are you acting like I'm showing you a new refrigerator?"
Nathan covered himself with his blanket.
"Because refrigerators don't expect grandchildren."
Twenty minutes later, Nathan found himself eating breakfast while his mother continued her presentation.
His father quietly drank coffee, enjoying the show.
"Jessica likes cats," Mrs. Cole said.
Nathan nodded.
"Nice."
"She likes movies."
"Excellent."
"She likes traveling."
"Fantastic."
"She breathes oxygen."
Nathan paused.
"Mom, are you describing a woman or a functioning human being?"
His father snorted into his coffee.
Mrs. Cole ignored both of them.
"Listen, son. You're twenty-seven."
"There it is."
"I worry."
"I know."
"Your cousin Brian is married."
"I know."
"Your sister has two children."
"I know."
"Even your barber has a girlfriend."
Nathan put down his spoon.
"How do you know my barber has a girlfriend?"
"He showed me pictures."
"You discuss my barber's love life?"
"Don't change the subject."
His father raised his hand.
"For the record, the barber's girlfriend is very nice."
Nathan stared at him.
"Whose side are you on?"
"The side with grandchildren."
"Traitor."
By noon, Nathan escaped.
Or at least, he tried.
"I'm going to Marcus's apartment!" he announced.
His mother pointed at him dramatically.
"You can't avoid love forever!"
"I've been doing it successfully for twenty-seven years."
His father waved.
"Drive safely!"
"Thank you, Dad."
"And if you meet a nice girl—"
"YOU TOO?"
Marcus lived in a small apartment that looked like a combination of a gaming room and a natural disaster.
Pizza boxes.
Game consoles.
Unwashed laundry.
And somehow, a rubber chicken hanging from the ceiling.
Nathan had stopped asking questions years ago.
Marcus opened the door.
"Bro!"
"Nice place."
"I cleaned."
Nathan looked around.
"This is cleaned?"
"Be grateful. Last week I couldn't find my refrigerator."
"You lost a refrigerator?"
"It blended in."
Nathan laughed.
"You need professional help."
"Probably."
The two friends spent the afternoon playing video games.
And losing.
Mostly because Marcus was terrible.
"How are you this bad?" Nathan asked.
Marcus pointed at the screen.
"The enemy cheated."
"It's an AI."
"Exactly."
"Marcus—"
"They're evolving."
Nathan burst out laughing.
"You're hopeless."
"At least I have a girlfriend."
Nathan gasped dramatically.
"Low blow."
Marcus grinned.
"Sorry."
"Not really."
"No."
Marcus suddenly became serious.
"So."
Nathan narrowed his eyes.
"So?"
"When are you going to date?"
Nathan groaned.
"You sound like my mother."
"Your mother is smart."
"My mother thinks I need an exorcism."
Marcus laughed.
"Seriously, man."
"I am serious."
"No, you're avoiding the question."
Nathan sighed.
"Maybe relationships aren't for me."
Marcus blinked.
"That's stupid."
"Thank you."
"No, really."
"I'm touched."
"You want love."
"Everyone wants love."
"So why are you hiding?"
Nathan remained silent.
Marcus noticed.
"Wait."
Nathan looked away.
"Oh."
"What?"
Marcus smiled.
"You're scared."
"Again with that."
"You are."
"I'm not."
"Dude, you once apologized to a chair after bumping into it."
"The chair wasn't at fault."
Marcus laughed so hard that tears appeared in his eyes.
"I hate you."
"No, you don't."
"True."
After several hours, Nathan headed home.
On the way, he stopped at a grocery store.
Simple mission.
Buy bread.
Buy milk.
Go home.
Easy.
Or so he thought.
Because fate apparently enjoyed making his life difficult.
As Nathan pushed his cart through the aisles, he heard a familiar voice.
"Mr. Cole?"
Nathan turned around.
And immediately regretted existing.
It was Linda.
From Accounting.
At work.
Linda was friendly.
Too friendly.
The kind of friendly that made Nathan nervous.
"Hi, Linda."
She smiled.
"Shopping?"
Nathan looked down at his basket.
"Actually, I came here to ride the shopping carts."
She laughed.
"You always joke."
Nathan smiled awkwardly.
Internally, his soul had left his body.
Linda looked at his basket.
"Bread and milk?"
"Living dangerously."
"No snacks?"
"I'm trying to be healthy."
She raised an eyebrow.
"Really?"
"No."
They both laughed.
And surprisingly—
The conversation wasn't awkward.
At least not terribly awkward.
Until Linda smiled and said,
"You know, we should hang out sometime."
Nathan froze.
His brain stopped functioning.
Hang out?
Like friends?
Or not friends?
Was this a trap?
Did she need help with taxes?
Was she secretly recruiting him into a cult?
His mind raced.
Meanwhile, Linda waited patiently.
Poor woman.
She had no idea she was watching a grown man experience a system error.
"Um…"
"Yes?"
"Hang out?"
She smiled.
"Yeah."
Nathan nodded.
"Outside?"
Linda blinked.
"Usually."
"Right."
Silence.
More silence.
Even more silence.
Finally, Linda laughed.
"You know what? Forget I said anything."
Nathan panicked.
"No!"
She stopped.
"No?"
"I mean—"
Nathan wanted the floor to open and swallow him.
"I mean yes."
Linda smiled.
"Yes?"
"Yes."
"Good."
"Good."
"Saturday?"
"Saturday."
"Coffee?"
"Coffee."
"Great."
"Great."
Neither moved.
Neither spoke.
Two adults.
Acting like malfunctioning robots.
Finally, Linda laughed again.
"See you tomorrow, Mr. Cole."
"Nathan."
"Hmm?"
"Call me Nathan."
She smiled warmly.
"See you tomorrow, Nathan."
And then she left.
Nathan stood there.
Motionless.
Holding bread.
Like a statue.
An elderly woman passing by looked concerned.
"Young man, are you alright?"
Nathan blinked.
"I think someone just asked me out."
The old lady smiled.
"About time."
That evening, Nathan entered the house.
His mother immediately noticed something strange.
"Mmm."
Nathan froze.
"What?"
She narrowed her eyes.
"You're smiling."
"No, I'm not."
"You are."
"I'm not."
"You look suspiciously happy."
His father lowered his newspaper.
"Did the stock market go up?"
Mrs. Cole gasped.
"No."
Her eyes widened dramatically.
"YOU MET A WOMAN!"
Nathan almost dropped the milk.
"What?!"
His mother pointed at him.
"A mother knows."
His father sat up.
"Wait, really?"
"No!"
"You're blushing."
"I'm warm."
"The air conditioner is on."
Nathan looked betrayed.
"Whose side are you on?"
His father smiled.
"The side with grandchildren."
"Not you too."
Mrs. Cole clasped her hands together.
"Tell me everything!"
"There is nothing to tell."
"A name?"
"No."
"Age?"
"No."
"Occupation?"
"No."
"Blood type?"
"Mom!"
His father laughed loudly.
"Leave the boy alone."
Mrs. Cole sighed dramatically.
"Fine."
She walked away.
Then turned around.
"Is she pretty?"
Nathan sighed.
"I don't know."
His mother gasped.
"You don't know?"
"I mean—"
He paused.
And remembered Linda's smile.
Her laugh.
The way she patiently waited while his brain shut down.
And for some reason—
He smiled.
His father noticed.
Mrs. Cole noticed.
And both parents exchanged a look.
The look.
The terrifying parent look.
Mrs. Cole whispered to her husband,
"Our son is evolving."
His father nodded solemnly.
"Nature is beautiful."
Nathan buried his face in his hands.
"I need a new family."
Meanwhile—
Across town—
A woman named Emily Parker was standing in front of a vending machine.
And she was losing the argument.
"Give me my chips!"
The vending machine remained silent.
Emily narrowed her eyes.
"You think you're better than me?"
Still nothing.
"You picked the wrong woman, toaster!"
An old security guard watched in confusion.
And somewhere, without knowing it—
Nathan Cole's life was about to become much more complicated.
End of Chapter 2
- Writer
