All I've Never Wanted(24)

I stood in the driveway for a moment, mulling over the day's strange events. My life had become a lot more troublesome, but at least it wasn’t boring.

Although, to be honest, excitement can be overrated.

CHAPTER 6

I shut the door behind me and smiled weakly at my mom, who looked equal parts angry, relieved, and for some reason, nervous.

“Are you ok?” was the first question she asked me.

“I’m fine, Mom.”

“Are you sure? No broken bones, no muggings, nothing like that?”

I sighed. “No.”

“Good. Then WHERE WERE YOU? I’ve been sick with worry! Maya, you know never to turn off your phone, especially when you’re late. You have no idea what I thought happened!”

“I’m sorry,” I apologized, ashamed. “But I…uh, broke my phone my accident.” I held out the pieces as evidence, and filled her in with a very abbreviated, very modified version of what had happened.

“Fine, but you should've been more careful, Maya.” She seemed appeased though, which surprised me. Normally my mom did not let me off the hook that easily. “Well, dinner’s just about ready, so come eat.”

I followed her into the kitchen, which also doubled as a dining room, and started setting the table while she put the finishing touches on dinner.

I had just put down the last fork when I heard a key turn in the front door, and a moment later, my dad walked in, jacket off and tie loosened. He looked tired but his face lit up when he saw us.

“Daddy!” I grinned and ran over to give him a huge hug.

Ok, so yes, I was a huge daddy’s girl. Sue me.

“Hey, sweetheart. How was your day?”

“It was good.” No need to make him worry. “How was work?”

“Boring as all hell,” he replied laughingly, walking over to give my mom a quick peck on the cheek.

“Yeah, right.” I scrunched up my nose. My dad loved his job. He had wanted to be an architect his whole life, and now he was one of the best in the state.

As we settled in at the table, I stared at my parents, feeling unbelievably lucky that they were still together and happy in a town where so many families were plagued with divorce, sordid affairs, mistresses, and children that were viewed as props more than anything else.

Plus, the way they had gotten together was so romantic.

I let out a soft sigh as I thought about it. My mom and dad had met at a street festival in San Francisco. He’d been an undergraduate at Berkeley the time, while she’d been working her family’s Chinese herbal store. My mom initially resisted his advances, but my dad remained dogged in his pursuit until he finally succeeded. The two fell in love, and my dad proposed four years later, on the anniversary of their first meeting. They’d gotten married seven months later and had me practically before the honeymoon phase was over. Now, after almost twenty years, they were still very much in love.

I played with the spaghetti on my plate. Though I didn’t particularly want a boyfriend right now, I fantasized about finding that one true love someday. I was a total sucker for cheesy, over-the-top romance.

“Maya?”

I snapped back down to earth and found myself facing my parents’ quizzical looks.

“Sorry,” I apologized.

“You’ve been spacing out so much lately.” My mom’s tone was gently reprimanding. “Did you hear what I just said?”

I shook my head.

She exchanged glances with my dad. “Your grandmother’s coming down next weekend. She’s going to be staying with us for a bit.”

I nearly choked on the glass of water I was sipping. “What?” I gasped between coughs, hoping I had just heard wrong.

Unfortunately, I hadn’t. That much was clear when my mom repeated the statement.

“Oh,” I said, my voice filled with dismay.

I noticed my dad didn’t look particularly thrilled either. Despite his meticulousness at work, he’d always been a bit scatterbrained at home, which had always put him at odds with my control-freak grandmother.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my grandmother and all, but she could be a little…overbearing. Basically, she’s your typical Asian grandma in every sense except she wanted me to get married and have babies very, very soon. Not that she wanted any grandchildren now, but she’s been bugging me about getting a boyfriend forever, figuring by the time I graduated college, we would have dated for a sufficient amount of time and therefore could get married. If she had her way, I would have a ring on my finger the second I walked across the stage and accepted my university diploma.


Unfortunately, my grandmother wasn’t exactly stupid, and she could see I had absolutely no intention or desire to get a boyfriend anytime soon. Instead of being dissuaded, she it upon herself to be a matchmaker and tried to set me up with every boy my age who met her standards. Every phone call and visit from her had been peppered with the mention of Jared or Tom or Wentworth. There had even been one named Sigmund.

Now, I am sure Sigmund—who I’ve never met, thank God—is a lovely boy, but if I were to date someone, he sure as hell would not be named after what I considered a rather whacked-out psychologist who spent way too much time thinking about sex.

“Anyway, it should be fun,” my mom chirped brightly, obviously trying to be optimistic. “It’ll be family bonding time.”