"I'm not sure yet, mom. I'm headed toward the airport now, but I'll keep you in the loop."
"Miami, right?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Who's keeping up with Eli? I can have Sarah or one of the boys come get him."
Sarah was mother’s maid and my old nanny. The woman was solid gold and put up with far too much rebellion in my earlier years to ask anything of her now that I was grown. She loved my mother and father, but the feeling was quite mutual.
"No. Sam's got him. We're all set." I lugged the suitcase off the bed. "I'm headed out. I love you."
"Alright, but know that I'm praying for you to meet her." My mother's tone was firm but caring.
"Her?" I knew who she was talking about. She was always praying for me to meet 'her'.
"Your future wife, Easton. Cary Markum called the other day and she's going to be a grandmother soon. So is Milly. I'm the only one with no news to share." The pout in her voice made my eyes roll twice for good measure.
"Make something up, Mom. I'm not getting married and popping out kids just so you can have something to share with your friends."
"And why not?" She said something away from the phone, most likely to my father, because it was his voice on the line next.
"Hey, son. Be careful and make sure to wrap your willie in Miami. The girls down there are–” He yelped. "Ouch. That hurt, Mary. Shit."
"Give mom the phone, please." I pressed my hand to my head and tried to reject the fact that my father just reminded me to use a condom, but utilized terms as if I were still five.
"You see what I have to put up with?" She grunted. "Anyways. Just promise me that you'll start dating soon. Is there anyone even on the horizon?"
"No, mother. I'm not interested in dating right now. I have a career that's just getting off the ground, and most women don't support that, nor do they understand it."
"You need to join a dating site. Your Aunt Margaret met Uncle Billy on one of those things, and they've been together for three years now. I think it's worth a try."
"Right. I'm hanging up now. Tell Dad I love him, and stop pinching him. He's getting old and he's going to start bruising if you keep that up."
"He is not. He likes it rough." She giggled and my father growled as I tried to calm my gag reflex.
"Bye, Mom." I started to hang up, but waited for her to get out a little bit more. Getting off the phone with her was almost as hard as prying a raise from Jon at work.
"Fine, but keep an open mind. You haven't really dated since college. It's been two years." She huffed.
"Thanks for the reminder, Mom. Love you." I dropped the call and turned the ringer to silent. I didn't need any more interruptions on my already strained trip to the airport.
My mother was well aware of why I wasn't dating. My career required too much from me. No girl would be okay with me leaving six out of every seven days. I'd tried it and watched it fail over and over the first few months of my career.
It wasn't worth it. Not that they weren't worth it, but having to console someone over and over simply because I had to work all the time didn't work out too well in my world. When I found a mature girl who understood responsibility and still had the heart and body of a woman who would throw caution to the wind, I'd propose. Plain and simple. Until then, it would be an occasional one-night stand and a continuation of diving farther and farther into my career.
It was one of the only things that made sense to me anyway.
Women were complex and incredibly moody. Maybe Sam had it right. They were too much trouble, or maybe I just hadn't met one that outweighed all of the effort.
"Too deep for this early in the morning," I grumbled, grabbed my keys and my bag and made my way to the elevator. I'd find 'her' or I wouldn't. I was in no hurry. Even if my mother was.
*****
I chewed on my nails the whole way to the airport, my mind moving through all of the various meetings and events I needed to attend. The main resort was one of my favorites to stay at, but the two additional ones that I would be evaluating were run by the ex-CEO of my current company. To say she was a man-eater would be a mild understatement. The woman was a complete bitch, and where I was good dealing with her, it didn't mean that I wanted to.
She was incredibly attractive and knew it, leaving her to treat everyone she crossed paths with like they belonged under the heel of her expensive-ass stiletto. I'd found a sweet spot within my rise to stardom in the world of critiquing, but money was just a means to make due with. I wasn't interested in rolling in it every night, nor did it really drive my decisions. Being rich was going to be part of my future simply because I loved success too much for it not to be.
"This is your stop, Mister. You want me to drop you off at the front of the terminal?" The cabbie looked back and gave me a toothless smile.