Page 64 of Pinch
“Haddeee!” Mom calls from the kitchen. “Get in here and give your mother a kiss.”
“Hi, Mom.” I go to where my gorgeous mother stands barefoot in front of the stove whipping up her famous shrimp and veggie stir-fry with fish sauce.
Her dark hair is styled in a ponytail and her curves are accentuated by the red, flowered wrap dress she’s wearing.
“What’s new in the atmosphere? Saved any lives lately?” It’s something she’s actually done in her line of work.
“I wish.” I open the refrigerator and take out a can of sparkling water, hoping it’ll settle my stomach.
Mom’s shrimp and veggie stir-fry is one of my favorite dishes she makes. It’s restaurant-quality, but for some reason, my throat tightens at the scent.
“It’s been pretty slow this semester,” I continue. “Daniel and I’ve resorted to working on our language skills. Check me out,Kazamuki wa?”
Her slim brows rise, and she makes an impressed face. “What does that mean?”
“Which direction is the wind?”
“That’s pretty cool, P!” Dad reaches into the refrigerator for a bottle of white wine. “Now you’re bilingual. Heck, it won’t be long before you know everything.”
That makes me snort. “Not everything, Dad.”
Dad is six-foot-two, and I inherited his bright blue eyes. My dark hair came from my mom—along with my perfect sense of style and love of old movies.
“Who’s Daniel?” Mom arches an eyebrow, but I shake my head, sipping my water.
“Just a student at the Japanese institute that’s co-sponsoring our research. Trust me, it is not a love connection.”
“If you never date anyone, Hayden Lucille, how will I ever get a grandbaby?”
“Give me time. I’m almost finished with my master’s, then I have to decide if I’ll get my doctorate.”
I’m still on the fence about getting a PhD, but it helps if I want to be a professor. I really just want to finish this study.
“Babies won’t keep you from achieving your dream. I hadn’t done anything when I had you.”
“But you had Dad.”
“Not at first.” Mom lifts the spoon from the sauce. “Taste this and let me know what you think.”
The gesture fills me with warmth. Our family has always bonded over food and music… and in my house movies. Stepping forward, I meet her eyes remembering being a little girl watching her skip around the kitchen in her bare feet and singing “Good Morning, Baltimore,” which was her talent when she was in pageants. It made me so happy.
The spoon comes closer, and I hesitate. The scent meets my nose, and again, my throat tightens strangely. My stomach trembles as if in warning.
“Here, let me do it.” I take the spoon from her hand and carefully pull just a tiny bit into my mouth.
As soon as it hits my taste buds, my stomach drops, and too much saliva pools in the back of my throat.
“What’s the matter?” Mom’s forehead crinkles. “Is it bad?”
She takes the spoon from me, finishing the bite, when a gag pulls me forward.
“Oh…” I clap a hand over my mouth.
“Get to the bathroom, quick! Your dad’s a sympathetic barfer!”
“What’s happening?” Dad turns worried eyes from me to her and back again. “Why is Haddy barfing?”
Flying to the half bathroom beside the kitchen, I slam through the door and flip the lid up just in time to lose all my sparkling water in the toilet bowl.
