Page 4 of Apple of My Eye
There it is again—arched eyebrows.
‘Nothing’s going on with Anna.’
‘She’s a cute girl. Successful too.’
‘You’ve met her once. And it wasn’t even on purpose.’
She sighs. ‘Nicky, I just don’t want you to focus so much on work you forget to focus on .?.?. you know .?.?. other things.’
‘I’m dating, Mamma. Not Anna, but I am dating,’ I lie. Technically I did go on a date with Anna, but the connection we’d built in class didn’t exactly translate to a candlelit dinner. I haven’t opened up Hinge in months. It’s depressing. My last girlfriend, Mariah, was great. But she moved to New York when I started business school and it just didn’t work. Not a lot of drama, no messy break-up, it was the wrong place and the wrong time. Mamma hated that. She liked Mariah. ‘Such a nice girl. Ambitious too,’ she lamented when I told her we broke up, tsk-tsk-ing at me over lasagna.
She tsk-tsks at me again, but this time she seems satisfied, ready to believe that I am, in fact, dating, because she switches the topic to my aunt Martha, who’s coming over for dinner next week. It will be my last dinner before I head to Carnation, Washington.
Aunt Martha is my favorite aunt, a wise-ass and a know-it-all, but one with a heart of gold. She has a couple kids, and before I know it my mom is laying into Ronnie, my cousin, for getting fired from his job at a hardware store.
‘Can you believe it?’ she asks, exasperation exuding from her in waves. ‘The heartache he puts your poor aunt Martha through.’
‘I know, Mamma, but he’ll pull through,’ I tell her, not entirely convinced myself.
She grumbles, making the sign of the cross dramatically across her chest, her way of saying,Let go and let God.
I chuckle as I dry the last plate. My mom is nothing if not dramatic.
When I kiss her on the cheek and promise to be back next weekend at 7 p.m. for dinner, I feel a swell of affection for her in my chest. I can’t wait until I’m done with my MBA and making a real salary, wearing suits to work, really making her proud. I will finally be able to take care of her. Finally start to repay her for everything she’s done for me. Maybe I’ll even start dating again.
Anna is hovering near my desk when I arrive at class on Tuesday morning, her curtain of shiny black hair hanging in front of her face. We’re both concentrating in marketing, we’re both graduating early (in January instead of May). We have one class before we break for our capstone semester, our preparation and send-off class, one where our teacher will inevitably lecture us on how we are supposed to show up to our various projects, how we can make the university proud.
‘Julian told me you’re actually going to thefarm,’ she says, her voice dropping like she’s confiding in me that she heard I got Covid. She leans towards me, her tiny diamond hoop earrings catching the light. She smells like an expensive department store candle, sandalwood and vanilla. I thought things would be awkward after our failed date, but Anna acted like nothing ever happened and we’ve remained friends.
‘Yep,’ I say. I slide into my seat. She stays put.
‘You guys do the dumbest things for fantasy football.’
‘Why does it matter? I have my job lined up after we graduate anyway.’
‘I guess—’ she shrugs her shoulders ‘—you could be actually learning something on the capstone though, building connections.’
I try not to grimace. As much as I want to be successful, Ihatenetworking. I’m good with people, but as soon as I feel like I need something from them, the whole interaction feels off-putting. It’s one of the many things that make me feel like I’m not exactly cut out for a future in business.
‘I’ll leave the networking to you, Anna,’ I tell her. ‘You’ll have more than enough for the both of us,’ I say, referring to the project she’s taking with a huge social media company, where networking connections abound.
She shrugs. ‘I’ll at least be able to leverage the plan we made in this class.’ She makes her way to her seat just as our professor walks in the room.
‘Shit,’ I swear under my breath.The plan we made in this class. As in, the plan I was supposed to have made so I can submit it to my professor to sign off on before I head to Carnation. The plan I now have three days to do.
Comprehensive Marketing Plan for Failing Farm, I scribble across the top of my page.
Here goes nothing.
Chapter Three
Eloise
Reasons my Parents Will Be Proud of My Loan Application*
*Written by Evan and Shari
–I am saving them from the same fate as the Parkers (bankruptcy!)
