At seven o’clock in the evening, my mom calls, for our weekly FaceTime chat.
“Hi Sweetie,” she says, and my dad waves at me from the background, where he’s watching his beloved Yankees on TV.
I moved to Albuquerque from the East Coast for college, but I try to visit and stay in touch with my parents as much as I can.
“Hi Mom.”
“How’s the internship going?”
“Pretty good,” I tell her.
Especially when it presents me with eye candy like Harlow, I think about adding, but I don’t.
“My clinic has the opportunity to work with a doctor who performs facial reconstructive surgery on military members who are wounded in action,” I continue. “It’s exciting, but there’s something about this doctor I can’t put my finger on. He seems a bit too… opportunistic.”
“Hmmm.”
My mom’s face wrinkles with concern. It’s nice to hear my opinion validated, even if by a “hmmm.” That’s definitely more than I get out Tony.
“Well, just follow your gut and trust your intuition,” she says. “You know God gave it to you for a reason.”
“That’s true, Mom.”
“So, what else is new?”
“Ummm,” I rack my brain, trying not to mention Tony. Although they’re too polite to say much, my parents have never been big fans. “I’ve been trying to go to the gym more, and lose a little weight. I feel pretty out of shape.”
“Oh nonsense, Dear. You’re just perfect the way you are.”
I do my best not to sigh. I know I should be grateful to have such a supportive mother, but she’s so full of empty platitudes.
When I first moved out here, it was because my eventual goal was medical school, which is much more affordable out here— as is everything else as well— than it is in New York. My pre- med classes turned out to be harder than I expected, and every time I tried to express my frustrations to my parents, I felt that they just wrote off my concerns.
“Anything worth doing is difficult,” they would say. Or “you have to stay motivated to succeed.”
I feel like everything’s always come so easy for them. My dad has a brilliant mind when it comes to science, and he got paid a lot as an engineer, before he retired. My mom has always been a stay at home mom. And my older brother got a full- ride scholarship to Columbia, for computer engineering.
I’ve just always felt like I can’t compete. Everything I do seems mediocre in comparison to all the amazing things they’ve done, and I guess I start to wonder why I even try.
When I told my parents that I was switching to Physical Therapy as my field of focus, I could tell in their eyes that they were disappointed, but they just said, “Whatever you think is best, Dear.”
Sometimes I wish they’d challenge me a little more, since I obviously can’t seem to challenge myself. Still other times, I feel I’m letting them down by not living up to their silent but obvious expectations of me.
“How are you and Tony doing, Honey?” My mom asks me now.
“Oh, we’re fine.”
I try to remain nonchalant. I can’t really talk to my mom about deep things like my boyfriend who is content to ignore me.
“Well that’s good, Dear. Tell him I say hello.”
She says this to be polite, since she’s not a big fan. Usually I appreciate the attempt but today I’m just tired of hearing his name or even thinking about him.
What if I was with a guy like Harlow instead? I can’t help but wonder. Someone who is tough, focused, protective, determined. Someone who knows how to fuck me long and hard and make me climax.
Then my train of thought abruptly stops, as soon as I remember the real world.
What the hell was I doing, fantasizing about a stranger while I’m supposed to be talking to my mother?
“I will, Mom,” I quickly agree.
“All right. Well, it’s almost bed time here. Have a good night.”
“You too, Mom. Love you. Love you Dad.”
“Bye!” They both wave at me and blow me kisses.
This is how pretty much all of our conversations go. There isn’t much substance, but at least we stay in touch.
As I hang up, I start to wonder whether anything really exciting will ever happen in my life. Something so out of the ordinary and different, that my parents will stand up and pay attention.
I try to imagine them bragging to their friends about me the way they brag about my brother.
“Our daughter became a world class ballerina.”
“And then our daughter helped cure cancer.”
“Not only that, but the best accomplishment she ever undertook was when our daughter broke up with her deadbeat boyfriend.”
Ouch.
That one hurt, even just in my thoughts.
“Our daughter is dating a member of the Navy SEALs.”
Now I have to tell myself to shut up, before I let my fantasies run way too wild. And if I’m going to indulge any fantasies, they’ll be ones that involve a hot, steamy sex session with Dr. Davis’ pet project Harlow, rather than what my parents might tell their friends at their country club about our relationship.
And in reality, I guess I’ll never do much to impress my parents, or to woo a guy like Harlow.
But at least a girl can dream.