Page 80 of Mud, Love, and Chemistry

Here we go. The conversation always starts this way at family functions. School gets brought up first, then my social life, and eventually somebody asks if I’m dating anyone. Ever since Connor and I broke up, my family has been very interested in my love life. Maybe I’ll get lucky this time. “School is fine.”

“What classes are you taking?” Albert spoons a heaping mound of mashed potatoes onto his plate.

“Well, I only have one left for my major, but it’s Organic Chemistry and it’s a doozy.” I sip my wine.

“I’m sure you’re not struggling, though.”

I shake my head. “I’m managing with my ninety-five percent average.”

“That’s my girl,” Dad says, holding up his wineglass in cheers to me.

Lifting my glass to him, I take a sip, licking the drops from my lips. “But I have a few classes I’ve been putting off that I have to take now.”

“Like what?” Aunt Barbara asks.

“Ones I should have taken freshman year; English lit, creative writing, and hiking.”

“What do you do in hiking?” Mom asks.

As soon as her question leaves her mouth, I cringe at the memory of my hike with Sam. Why did I mention hiking? I take a small bite of my food, chewing for a beat before I answer. “Mostly sit in class and learn how to hike. The safety precautions, how to pack, the dos and don’ts, stuff like that.”

“Do you do any actual hiking?” Uncle Albert asks.

With an inward groan, I say, “Yes. We had a class hike early on in the semester, and I had to facilitate one myself.”

“Did Lisa go with you?” Mom asks, and I know it’s because she doesn’t like me hiking alone.

But it still makes me grimace. “No. I couldn’t take friends. My professor said they would be biased in their grading.” I reach for my wine, but choose to change the subject right away instead. “Besides, Lisa probably would’ve been busy with her boyfriend.”

“Oh, how lovely,” Mom says, her eyes dancing with excitement. “When did that happen?”

“When did what happen?” my grandma chimes in, her meek voice barely audible.

My mom leans over to loudly say, “Brynn’s friend has a boyfriend.”

“Brynnie has a boyfriend?” My grandma’s face lights up, but I inwardly recoil.

That wasn’t the turn I was hoping for. I meant for the conversation to steer into Lisa’s love life, but that plan backfired.

Mom must notice the pain on my face, because she clears her throat and turns to my younger cousin. “Mary Beth, have you decided which colleges you want to apply to?”

I shoot my mom a tight smile and mouth a “thank you” in her direction. Magically, the rest of Thanksgiving dinner moves forward without the conversation spinning back on me. Poor Mary Beth gets the brunt of the interrogation, though.

I remember being in her shoes almost four years ago. Hell, even two years ago, my relatives would focus on my studies instead of my relationships. I suppose that was because I was serious with Connor so there wasn’t anything to talk about. That changed quickly after he left.

At first, it was condolences and making small talk about how life will get better, but it quickly became offers to set me up on dates. Aunt Barbara knew a woman from church with a son my age. Or there was Dad’s new coworker who had just finished college. I knew deep down they were just trying to help, but it only twisted the knife further.

My relatives shoving dating prospects in my face simply reminded me that I was dumped. If I hadn’t been, I wouldn’t have needed to meet anyone new.

When dinner is finished, I all but jump at the chance to help Mom clear the table. I gather plates and take them into the kitchen. Setting them down with a heavy breath, I turn on the faucet to fill the sink and pump some dish soap into it.

“You okay, honey?” Mom asks as she steps through the doorway with the turkey platter in her hands.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” But the despondent tone in my voice says otherwise.

“You know Mimi didn’t mean anything by what she said, right?”

“I know.”

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