Prank Date [✔]

Part 32

Half a dozen people were clogging the gallery's entrance when I arrived. I squeezed past a bearded man and a woman in a salmon-colored minidress. Someone from the gallery's staff approached me to take my coat, but I shook my head. I didn't want to wait around later for someone to hand me the coat once it was time to leave, so I slipped out of my coat, folded it, and carried it over my arm.

I declined a glass of champagne and craned my neck, looking for my mother. Finally, I discovered her in front of one of her paintings, where she was explaining some details to a visitor.

I walked over and waited for my mother to look up.

"Darling! How nice that you could make it." Despite my protests, my mother pressed a glass of champagne into my hands.

I placed it on the tray of a nearby waitress. "The art opening looks like a big success."

"Yes, it is. I've sold two paintings already." My mother beamed. She took a step back and studied me. "You're wearing a dress?"

For a moment, I debated letting my mother think it was in honor of the art opening, but then I said, "I've got a date later tonight."

My mother led me through the gallery and stopped in front of a painting. She glanced at me, then back at her colleague's creation. "A date with...?" She trailed off and let me complete the sentence.

It had been a week since Thanksgiving. Even though we had spoken on the phone twice, this was the first time my mother had asked about my new relationship in any way.

I inhaled deeply before I let the breath escape.

"With Lisa, yes." In fact, it was our first official date, and just thinking about it made butterflies the size of sparrows take flight in my belly. "I'm not dating anyone else. Lisa says hi, by the way. She's sorry she can't make it. She wanted to come with me, but she needs to cover the tasting room until seven."

Silence settled between us as we wandered from painting to painting, looking at each of them for a minute or two.

"Does she make you happy?" my mother asked after a while.

The question caught me by surprise. I stared at my mother. As far as I could remember, my mother had never asked me a question like that. For a moment, I thought about just giving the shortest possible answer. In the past, my parents had always been satisfied with that because their interest in my life ran only skin-deep—at least it always seemed so. But if I wanted to give my parents a chance to participate in my life more fully, I had to open up and show them the kind of communication I wanted.

"I've never relied on anyone for my happiness." I strolled to the next painting and thought about my words. "But I think I'm finally learning to. Lisa shows me every day that I can trust her to be there for me, no matter what."