“I’m so glad I caught you,” comes my mother’s polished voice. It always makes me stand a little straighter, like she’ll sense my slouched posture through the phone.

I prepare my speech, steeling myself for the blowup that’s sure to follow. “I’m glad you called, actually, because I have a bone to pick with you.”

“My dear, let’s try not to use unfortunate phrases such as those.”

I grit my teeth. “Yes, Mother. I have…something I’d like to speak with you about.”

“Much better.”

“It’s about these blind dates. I’ve, um, decided that, uh—”

“Think about what you’re going to say before you say it, Summer. You sound frazzled with all those um’s and uh’s.”

“I know. But you see—” I stop and take a deep breath. “I went on another one of your setups tonight.”

“Oh, that’s right! With Bernie’s son, Jeremy, I believe?”

Jeremy? I think I preferred Rupert. “Yes.”

“And how’d it go?” my mother asks, suddenly interested.

“Awkward.”

She sighs. “Sorry to hear that. I’m sure the next one will be easier.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” I say quickly, trying to take back control of this runaway conversation. “I don’t want to—”

“Summer, I’m sorry to interrupt…”

That’s something people only say when they’re clearly not sorry.

“…but this talk about dating will have to wait.”

“I’d really prefer to talk about it now.”

“This is important. I have news about your grandfather.”

“Gramps?” All thoughts of my sorry love life are swept from my mind. I squeeze the phone in my hand as horrible images flash before my eyes. “What’s happened? Is he alright?”

“Yes, yes, calm down. He’s fine now, but he’s had a nasty fall.”

“Oh my God… Where?”

“On the docks. He’s broken his arm in two places.”

No. That can’t be true. He’s Gramps: indestructible, larger than life, tough as nails. He’s been a New England fisherman all his life, first in Rhode Island and now Maine. That’s hardcore fishing up there. It’s cold, real cold, and windy. Oh, and they get a ton of snow and ice.

In summary: Maine equals Arctic tundra.

“I don’t know what to do. This is high tourist season in Portland, and with him grounded, he won’t be able to meet the demand…” She sighs. “He’s very distraught, Summer. I think he’s depressed! I honestly don’t know what to do.”

I stand there in stunned silence. My mother just said “I don’t know what to do.” Twice. That’s a world record.

“And this must be very hard on Mother,” she says wearily. “My father isn’t the easiest to man to take care of, and this situation must be impossible to deal with.” My mom sounded concerned—actual, genuine concern. Another first.

“Can someone go up there and help out?”

“I wish, but we’re all swamped. Your father has a slew of surgeries scheduled in the next few months, and I don’t want Nora traveling in her condition.”

I hold back my laugh. I love how people think a pregnant woman is made of glass. I’m pretty sure walking around the hectic, mobbed New York City streets is far more dangerous than hoping on a train.

“I’m afraid that I can’t go, either,” my mother continues. “I’m planning your sister’s baby shower and decorating the nursery, as you know.” Yes, I know. I’m pretty sure everyone from my mother’s hairstylist to her doorman knows that my sister is expecting this fall. “And then there are the dinner parties I’m hosting this summer—oh! Which reminds me that you still haven’t confirmed your schedule.”

I frown. “Why do you need to know right now?”

“Because I have a few people in mind that I’d like you to meet.” Code for I have five new blind dates for your ass.

Well, this ass is not playing along any longer. Besides, the most ingenious idea EVER just popped into my head. I take a deep breath. “You can put me down for a no, Mom.”

“No?” my mother scoffs. “No” is definitely not a word many people tell Charlene Anna Rae.

“I’m afraid not.”

“And why is that?” she snaps.

“Because I’ll be helping Gran and Gramps all summer.”

A long pause. “You will?”

I grin into the phone, enjoying that I have the capacity to render my mom speechless. “You bet. You said no one’s able to go up there, but I’m free as a bird.”

“What about your studies?”

“I can study for my teacher’s exams anywhere.”

“Even in Portland?” she asks, horrified.

I roll my eyes. Manhattanites crack me up. “It’s Maine, Mother, not Nova Scotia. They have reliable internet up there.”

“This won’t interfere with your work?”

“Nope. School’s out for the summer and they don’t need any more teacher’s aides for summer school or camps this year.”

“Well, I suppose…”

I can hear my mother’s frown through the phone. “I’ll be fine, Mom. I haven’t visited Gran and Gramps in years, so it would be wonderful to see them. Besides, after my exams, I’ll be throwing myself at the mercy of the New York City school system. I might not have much free time for a nice long visit like this.”

“True.” I wait as she considers my arguments. Apparently she can’t find any glaring holes in them…for once. “Okay. But do you realize what you’re getting yourself into?”

“How so?”

“It will be a lot of work helping your grandparents. You’ll need to go shopping for them and drive your grandfather to his doctor’s visits and entertain him while he’s under bedrest…” She trails off with a sigh. “It will be a very stressful summer for you.”

I stare at the wall above my desk, trying to decide if she’s serious. Playing cards with my grandparents? Chauffeuring Gramps around the streets of quiet Portland? Sounds like a cakewalk compared to a day in the life of a public school teacher’s aide. But then again, my mom is in a league of her own. She could redecorate your four-bedroom condo in one day like she was born for it, but take her outside of Manhattan, and she practically melts.

“I think I can handle it,” I say as seriously as I can muster.

“And you’ll be missing all my dinner parties! How will I introduce you to all the young men—uh, family friends that I’m inviting?”

“There’s always another party,” I say diplomatically. Best to not let on exactly how excited I am to miss her blue-blood lineup. “I’m sure they’ll understand once you explain to them where I am.”

I give her time to work through that carefully planted seed. Explaining to her guests that her youngest daughter is voluntarily spending her summer with her aging grandparents should send her friends’ heads reeling. They’ll create an “Upper East Side Mother of the Year” award for her. If it doesn’t already exist.

“Hmm, true… Oh, alright, your father will book your ticket for you.”

I pump my fist in the air. “Yes!”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, I’m just glad I can help.”

“Right,” my mother says slowly. Something in her voice tells me she’s seeing straight through my selfless offer. “As am I.”

“I should probably go. Lots to pack, errands to run…”

Silence. “Well, I’ll call Grandma and tell her the good news.”

I skip through the living room with unbridled joy. Maine, here I come! Maine, here I—

“But, Summer?”

I grind to a stop. “Yes?”

“Be sure to keep your fall schedule clear.”

A knot grows in my stomach. “Why?”

“I have a few gentlemen I’d like you to meet.”

“But Mom—”

“I’m sure you’ll humor me. No doubt you’ll be dying to get back into the social scene after three whole months in rural Maine.”

“One more time: Portland is not rural.”

“I’m not arguing semantics with you,” she says crossly. “Do we have a deal?”

“A deal?”

“You get to go to Maine this summer and dodge all my parties…”

“I’m not dodging anything.”

“…and then you’ll agree to go on a few more dates.”

I clench my teeth. Yup. Didn’t fool her one bit.

“Dear?”

“I’m here,” I grit out. So I get a few months away from my prying mom and her incessant interest in my love life for a few more blind dates this fall. Honestly, I don’t think I was ever going to win this fight. Charlene is on a mission— to get me a man—and I’m finding out the hard way that it’s more exhausting to fight back than play along.

“Deal,” I grumble.

“I can’t understand you when you mumble.”

“Deal.”

“Splendid! Well, I’ll let you go. Say hello to Maddison for me.”

I hang up and hurl my phone onto the couch, my body following soon after. I bury my head into the itchy polyester throw pillows my mother picked out and let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding. Charlene won that round. Like all the others. At least my three months in Maine will be date-free. I won’t have any awkward, forced interactions up there with boring, self-entitled, soft men. It’ll just be me, my grandparents, and the quiet town of Portland.

I flip over, lace my fingers behind my head, and smile up at the ceiling. That sounds like heaven right about now.