Just how I liked it.
Most of the time, anyway.
“Ben, it’s time.” My mother, Rita Rutherford, was not one to hold her tongue, not even when it was clear that she was fighting a losing battle.
I groaned in frustration, knowing I should have shoveled the mashed potatoes and cheesy pasta into my mouth as soon as I sat down, instead of being polite and catching up with my siblings and their husbands.
“Not again, Mom. Please.” Every few months she got a bug up her butt about me settling down with a wife and producing more grandchildren, as if they were in short supply around the Rutherford household. “Why are we having this conversation again? Ella has two kids already and Emma’s got one, with twins on the way. How is that not enough?”
She sighed and shook her head in disappointment, green eyes one shade lighter than mine set on me sadly. “You’re not even dating anyone seriously, Ben.”
“I have two beautiful sisters willing to give you plenty of grandchildren.” Emma and Ella were identical twins who’d had their first children two weeks apart. “Isn’t that enough?”
“No. It won’t be enough until you’re settled with children of your own. You don’t want the cousins to be too much older than the rest of the kids in the family, do you?”
I hadn’t really given it much thought, to be honest. “We never did anything else together, why start now and with kids?” This was starting to border on ridiculous, and I shoved big slice of roast in my mouth before I said something to hurt my mom’s feelings.
“They’ll be lonely.”
“There will always be kids somewhere, Mom.”
She let out a frustrated groan and yanked away the basket of rolls when I reached for one. Maybe two. “Yes, but not cousins. How long do you expect your sisters to keep having children?”
I shrugged and flashed a smile around the roast in my mouth. “Until your bloodlust for grandchildren has been satisfied?”
Emma laughed unabashedly, no care whatsoever for the glare Mom sent her way. Ella looked away and buried her laugh behind a delicious buttery role. “You’re not funny, Ben.”
I was a little funny, but now wasn’t the time to say that. “Just be happy with the grandchildren you have, Mom. They’ll be annoying teenagers in no time, trust me.” As principal of the only high school in town, I was an expert in annoying teenagers.
She flashed a soft look at Ella’s toddlers, eating slowly and having a secret conversation at the other end of the table. “They grow up so fast. And you’re missing out.”
I wasn’t in the mood to fight, and I’d yet to win a fight with my mother, so I filled my stomach with more of her delicious food and kept my eyes on my plate. Fortunately, dinner in the Rutherford household wasn’t a multiple hour affair and as soon as she set Emma’s caramel cake on the table, a bad feeling settled into my gut that had nothing to do with the three plates of food I’d consumed entirely too fast.
“You made my favorite, Emma. My favorite twin.”
Ella rolled her blue eyes and snorted. “I would’ve made you a cake too, if I’d have known about the ambush.”
It took a moment for Ella’s words to sink in, but by the time they did, there was a long cream colored envelope sitting on my plate instead of a slice of cake.
“What’s this?” I stared at it like it might hold a venomous snake and looked up at the women in my life. “Well?”
“Open it and find out,” Ella said, a smug smirk on her freckled face.
I sighed and took another look at the offensive envelope before I picked it up and pulled out the flap with a familiar set of three golden letters. “Are you kidding me?” It was a gift certificate for the matchmaking business in town, Time for Love. “Mom, you’re being ridiculous.”
“I am not,” she insisted far too innocently. “I am being a proactive mother, making sure her children are settled and happy.”
“I am happy.” I had a career that I loved, a good group of friends and an active social life. “And I’m not looking to settle down.”
“Men always think that,” she said dismissively. “Until they find a woman who makes them want to settle down.” She wore such a happy and hopeful expression that I hated to burst her bubble, but this was too much.
“Mom, stop. I’m not getting married or having children on your schedule. Be happy with how things are, or I’ll stay single forever.” She opened her mouth to argue and I pointed one finger at her across the table. “Forever, Mom.”
She snapped her mouth shut just long enough for me to enjoy one single slice of cake. “I expect good things from this gift certificate,” she said as I scraped the frosting off the plate with my fingers. “Eva, Sophie and Olive have an excellent reputation,” she gushed. “I’m hoping for a summer wedding. But Christmas would be acceptable.”