Metanoia // George Ezra Fanfic

Problem Solving

"I swear, I have had a hundred people get in touch with me that have been interested in living in the apartment with me, but I don't like any of them." I huff, clicking out of yet another disappointing email.

My Mom is on the other line, listening to me rant. She's originally called me to let me one that one of my aunts on my dad's side would be getting surgery or something, but it had quickly developed into other things. I didn't really know my aunts on my dad's side of the family anyway, so the news that they were getting surgery of some sort wasn't that interesting to me.

I wonder if that makes me a bad person?

Mom sighs, "I don't see why you can't just pick one of them. Is it really that difficult?"

"It is these days." I grumble, "Some of them are just total weirdos. One girl who emailed me wanted to know if she could display some of her 'Muppets collection' in the living room if she moved in. I didn't even respond to her."

"Muppets - like the kids show?"

"Exactly like the kids show." I pick at my fingernails absent-mindedly.

I can practically see my mother's surprised expression as she says, "Well, that is different. What about everyone else?"

I scrunch up my nose, "Too many people who email me think that the COVID-19 virus is fake. Or that the government created it or something. I don't want to live with someone who doesn't trust science, and I don't want to live with a conspiracy theorist. I just can't believe people have enough time to think about random stuff like that."

"Ah, well." My Mom says in a defeated tone, "We live in Alabama. It's a red state, you know."

I sigh, "Which is very inconvenient for purple people like myself."

My Mom laughs at my joke, her voice trembling a little still when she says, "But what on earth would you do even if you did find someone? Isn't George still staying in the second bedroom?"

"Yeah." I sigh, "He's having about as much luck as I am. At this point, he might as well officially move in with me."

"That's what I was going to suggest!" Mom says energetically. 

I pause, moving the phone away from my face so I can look at the picture I have of my mother. Based on the photo I have, it doesn't look like she is joking. Although, photos aren't exactly known for changing their facial expressions - unless you're at Hogwarts. 

"Really?" I say, disbelievingly, "You think George should just live here?"

Mom uses her most reasonable tone, "Well, why not? He needs a place to live, and you have that extra room. Besides, you know that he is responsible and is being wary of this whole virus thing."

"I don't know."

"I thought you said that you and George weren't romantic anymore?" She says in a tone mingled with both curiosity and percipience.

I blink in surprise, and say indignantly, "We aren't romantic!"

And now her voice is smug, "So, what's the problem with him living with you?"

Frowning, I grunt, "Nothing, he's just messy."

"Well, at least you know he's messy." She says, matter of factly, "You'd be rolling the dice if you let anyone else move in. They might be even messier than George. He's a nice young man, and I think you'll be better off if you just ask George to live with you instead of anyone else."

I sit up in my bed, rolling my eyes, "Mom, aren't you supposed to discourage me from living with men? You know, as my mother and a Christian woman?"