Page 3 of His Candy Cane (Sweet Treats 1)

I stare at her.

“You mean the one where Matthew McConaughey plays an adult man who still lives with his parents?”

My mom smiles and brightens.

“Yes, that one!” she nods. “I’m just saying that Daddy and I don’t want you to be like the Matthew McConaughey character. We want to get you out there and do something with yourself. The world is your oyster!”

I stare at her.

“Mom, this sounds like a thinly-veiled attempt to kick me out of the house.”

Lorraine shrugs.

“Would that be so bad, Maisie? Finding the love of your life and moving in with a nice man is a natural progression for a young woman, and your dad and I want you to have these experiences. It’s not that bad, Maisie. I did it. You’re just stuck in a rut right now, and going to boot camp will help push you out of that stuck space.”

My mom’s reasoning makes my head spin, and this conversation is beginning to sound scarily like her pep talks for Astronaut School and Fat Camp.

“Mom, I’ve never done well at the things you sign me up for. I always do best at the things I choose for myself, like vet school.”

My mom makes a pshaw noise with her mouth.

“Maisie, the vet tech thing is fine, don’t get me wrong. But you make … what, thirty thousand a year? Forty thousand?”

“Twenty-five,” I say in a tight voice.

“Exactly!” Lorraine says triumphantly. “Twenty-five thousand is a pittance, and you’ll never be able to afford your own apartment unless you earn more. Unfortunately, the career progression for a vet tech doesn’t seem to be very promising, so Daddy and I figured helping you find a guy would make more sense. Maybe with your combined incomes, you can find an apartment together!” she sings brightly.

I stare at her again.

“Mom, seriously. Are you trying to get rid of me?”

Immediately, Lorraine’s expression grows innocent.

“Of course not, honey. Daddy and I love having you live with us, but enough is enough, don’t you think? Don’t you want to have your own space? Privacy is a luxury in this economy.”

The truth is that of course, I’d love to have an apartment to call my own. Imagine that: getting up in the morning without having to share a breakfast table with my parents. I could even adopt a rabbit, a cat, and a dog, which I’ve been longing to do for ages. My dad is allergic to any kind of animal fur, so we only have our one bird, Cookie, who’s addled in the brain if you ask me.

I fix my mother with a look.

“Of course I’d love to move out, but isn’t this a roundabout way of doing it? You think that by slimming down, I’ll meet someone, fall madly in love and then find my own apartment?”

My mom nods.

“Yes, precisely,” she says with satisfaction. “It all starts with you getting healthy, Maisie. You’re too big the way you are, and too many boys are taking a pass at dating a bigger girl. Don’t get me wrong, honey,” she says quickly. “Your dad and I think you look fine, but CrossFit is just the thing to shock your system. We did some research, and it’s a difficult routine, but don’t worry: working one-on-one with Mr. P is going to make it bearable. He’ll whip you into shape in no time, and soon you’ll have a dozen men asking for your hand.”

I merely shake my head because it’s useless to argue at this point. My parents have been trying to slim me down now for over a decade, but to no avail. Fat Camp didn’t do it, nor did the diet shakes nor Weight Watchers. I think they wanted me to enlist in the Army after graduation in the hopes that Basic Training would help me shed some pounds, but I put my foot down there. I wasn’t going to risk the chance of going off to war just to lose some weight. No thank you to bullets and missiles, although I highly appreciate the dedicated service of our vets.

But there’s no way to get my point across to my parents. They’ve been this way for as long as I can remember, and the rah-rah aspect of their personalities is annoying but also well-meaning. As a result, I merely take the membership card from my mom and smile weakly at her.

“Thanks. When does the personal training start?”

“Tomorrow is your first session,” Lorraine says happily while folding her hands. “Mr. P is expecting you after work at 6 p.m. I already told him that you work until five every day, so he was willing to tack on some after-hours to see you personally.”

I smile sourly.

“Great. So I’m already indebted to him before we even begin.”

“No, of course not!” my mom scolds. “Put on a happy face, Maisie, because a bad attitude isn’t going to get you off on a good foot. Work hard, smile, and soon those pounds will come sliding off just like melting ice. You’ll be a new woman, and before soon, you’ll be married and buying a starter house with your new husband.”

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