Page 3 of His Curvy Obsession

“Good men are hard to find,” I reply flatly.

“Especially when you don’t eventryto find one. A good man doesn’t just fall into your lap, you know. You have to make an effort.”

I take a sip of my tea and do my best to ignore my mom's not-so-subtle criticism of the fact that I'm still single at the ripe old age of…thirty.

I know, I know. Thirty isn’t old by most people’s standards. But my mom isn’t most people.

In my mom's world, women graduate high school, take a brief detour through college, and get engaged. Then they drop out of college, get married, and pop out their first child…all before their twenty-fifth birthday.

Yeah. You heard that correctly. Twenty-five.Two. Five.

Even my younger sister, though luckier in the love department than I have been so far, is behind our mom’s schedule. She’s twenty-seven and has just now secured a ringfrom a man. And she’ll be twenty-eight when she walks down the aisle.

The horror!

After I graduated high school, I told Mom that I wanted to focus on my career. To wait a while before settling down. My mom humored me, allowing me to enroll in college to study English Literature.

Her prediction? That I’d meet my future husband by the end of my first semester, just like she had done.

When this didn’t happen, my mother held onto hope. I went to graduate school and got my MFA in Creative Writing. My mother saw this as more of a hobby than anything — nothing like a real career, no matter how much I told her that I was serious about making writing my full-time job.

When I finished grad school, my left ring finger was still bare and lonely. That’s when my mother’s hints about settling down became significantly less hint-like. She began sending me social media profiles of her friends’ sons—eligible bachelors!—and names of online dating apps that I should try.

It was clear at that point that my mom was serious about getting me “married off.” But I grew up with my mom; I’m used to her way of poking and prodding my sister and me through life.

But while I was able to ignore my mother’s cruel remarks about my spinsterhood before, when she took aim at my fertility, it began to really hurt. And ever since Alyssa got engaged, my mom's been worse than ever.

“What about Eric?” she asks, stabbing a piece of her salad with more aggression than seems necessary.

“Eric?” I laugh. “You mean mybossEric?”

“Yeah! He seems so sweet. I really liked him when I met him at the Summer Picnic.”

“I'm sure you did,” I reply.

OfcourseMom likes Eric. On paper, he’s exactly the kind of man she wants me to settle down with. He’s handsome and, more importantly, financially successful. A guy like Eric could give me anything that money can buy.

Too bad what I want isn’t something that can be purchased. But even if I was interested in Eric, the idea that my serious and stoic boss would be interested in me romantically is…comical.

“Seriously, Mom?” Alyssa chimes in. “Eric Stone? Ew.”

“Not ew,” our mom replies sternly. “What exactly is ‘ew’ about Eric? I thought he was a perfectly fine man when I met him last summer.”

“Gag,” Alyssa says. “Sure he’s easy on the eyes I guess. And when it comes to money he’s loaded, that’s obvious. But Mom, Eric is a weirdo.”

“He is not,” she says.

“Yes, he is,” I reply, looking at Alyssa appreciatively.

Even though our mom never misses the opportunity to compare us to one another, Alyssa and I have always been a united front, always supportive of one another and ready to defend the other one from the wrath of our judgmental mom.

“Total weirdo,” Alyssa says authoritatively. “Like, a nerd. Just obsessed with his work.”

“Obsession isn’t a bad thing,” Mom replies stiffly. “A man with ambition is a man who can provide for a wife and family.”

“I can’t even imagine Eric with a family,” I reply, thinking of my boss. An image of him comes to mind, Eric in a suit, standing in the middle of his office, a contemptuous frown on his face as he holds a crying, squirming baby at arm’s length.

“Well, you better figure something out quickly,” Mom says dryly. “You’re not getting any younger. Your eggs won’t last forever, you know. Especially with all of your…medical issues.”

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