She pauses for a second to frown at me. “Are you eating properly? You look thinner than the last time I saw you.”
“It’s an illusion, I promise,” I say with a smile. “The flu season has just begun, so I haven’t had a chance to lose any weight yet.”
“I don’t like it that you skip meals during work.” She looks fretful as she places a bowl of soup on the table in front of me. “You’ve been working way too much.”
I pick up my spoon. “I don’t have any shifts for the next two days. Besides, I don’t work nearly as much as Joanne does.”
“That girl is insane,” Mom says, sitting down across from me. “Does she date at all?”
“Not really. She just got a promotion at work, though. Hopefully, that means she’ll be able to work a little less and have a life.”
My mom sighs and shakes her head, apparently as worried about my friend as she is about me.
Dipping my spoon into the soup, I bring it to my lips and take a sip. As usual, the hearty flavor brings me back to my childhood, when Mom made the healthy dish almost every week. Despite her youth, she’s been a great parent, always putting my needs before her own and ensuring I had the best childhood possible. Even with the constant parade of her ever-changing boyfriends, I grew up feeling secure and loved.
“How’s Martin doing?” I ask between spoonfuls of soup.
Mom’s full lips curve into a happy smile. Martin, a forty-six-year-old lawyer, is her current boyfriend. They’ve been dating for the past four months, a remarkably long stretch for my mom. As a teenager, I often wondered why she couldn’t find someone to settle down with. Finally, I concluded that my mom simply enjoys variety when it comes to relationships. She likes men far too much to choose just one.
“He’s good,” she says. “He invited me to go to Cancun next week.”
“Wow. Are you guys getting serious?”
Her smile grows wider. “Perhaps. I do like him a lot, and he’s been very good to me. He doesn’t even mind this ridiculous disease I’ve got. Plus, he’s really good in the sack.”
I burst out laughing. I can’t imagine other mothers telling their daughters these sorts of tidbits. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve become my mom’s closest friend and confidante, and I frequently hear far too many details about her love life. Although it can be weird at times, I appreciate that I know my mother as a real person and not just as the woman who gave birth to me.
For the next couple of hours, we chat about work and her upcoming trip to Mexico. Martin bought a beachfront condo there and can’t wait to show it off to his girlfriend. He’s so eager, in fact, he bought her a plane ticket before she’d even agreed to go there. As I listen to her relay the story, my chest warms with happiness. Good for my mom. She deserves to be spoiled.
The afternoon comes to an end much too soon, and before I know it, it’s time to kiss my mom goodbye and head back home, where no exciting love life or enticing adventures await.
It makes me think as I walk the two blocks to the ferry. Maybe it’s time to throw some of my caution to the wind.
* * *
The next morning, I wake feeling refreshed after going to bed at a reasonable time. Night shifts always mess me up. My body dislikes abrupt changes in sleeping patterns.
Stretching, I yawn and enjoy the luxury of not being rushed. For the first time in weeks, I have no plans or commitments. I can lounge in my pajamas all day, and no one will say boo.
I briefly consider calling some friends and going out for lunch, but I decide against it. Chill days are far too rare. Instead, I get up and make my usual breakfast—a bowl of oatmeal with cranberries and walnuts—and I eat it on the couch while watching an episode of Downton Abbey.
Just as I’m starting on the next episode, my phone rings.
June, my supervisor, sounds harried. “Kate, I’m so sorry. I know you have the day off, but is there any way you could swap shifts with Rose? She’s had a death in the family, and she won’t be able to come in today. She was supposed to start at ten.”
So much for that chill day. “Sure. I’ll be there.”
* * *
The shift is grueling with a never-ending stream of patients. One man is brought in with chest pains, but most of the other cases aren’t true emergencies. Many people go to the ER instead of seeing a regular doctor simply because they lack health insurance.
Feeling unusually tired, I take a quick break to visit the restroom and splash cold water on my face. I have three hours left on my shift, and I’m looking forward to going home and falling straight into bed.