The Jack

"I'm still waiting for my grandchildren, you know," my mother rattled on from her side of the phone. There couldn't have been a more repeated sentence in the entire world than her telling me that she was waiting to have grandchildren. It didn't seem to be enough that my sister was already married and popping out babies like flowers in a field.

"Yes mamá, I know," she scoffed at me, immediately starting to ramble about how disrespectful it was to hear so much impatience in my voice.

"I only want what's best for you! When are you going to get married, anyway? You should have listened to me when I told you about that Nicolas. You two would have been happily married and full of children! You need to lengthen the legacy, Amaria," despite my mother's constant rambling about children, she never ceased to put a smile on my face. I missed her a lot. "What happened to that nice young man you were dating? I think his name starts with a D?"

"Tony? I wasn't dating him," the onions on my chopping board were beginning to make me tear up, so I moved on to the bell peppers. "And I have a different date tonight, as a matter of fact."

"Aya, you've moved on already? You're a heartbreaker, just like me!" My mother chuckled on the other side of the line, and I briefly heard her tell someone else on her end about my date. The other person replied back and my mom chuckled again. "Sonya wants to know what his name is."

"Hi Sonya!" I greeted loud enough for my aunt to hear. "The name is Jack, and before you ask, it is not Leonardo DiCaprio."

"Is he a potential husband?" My mother asked, the same way she had asked every time I told her that I would be dating someone new.

"I never said Jack was a man," due to the fact that my attention was solely on the conversation with my mother, and nowhere near the cooking process I was currently partaking it, I didn't notice when the bell peppers ended up sliced julienne instead of diced the way they were supposed to be.

"Is she a potential wife?" My mother asked in the exact same tone of voice. She did not even bother to hesitate. That only confirmed that my mother just wanted me to get married so that she would have an excuse to ask for grandchildren.

"Jack is a man and I have no idea yet. You know I don't want to get married, mamá," I grabbed a pot from the stove and began pushing the vegetables off the cutting board and into the pot with my knife. "And I know you want grandchildren, but I can have children without being married, you know. There's an orphanage nearby and an adoption agency downtown."

"I know, and if only you were serious about that instead of just saying it to get me off your back, I wouldn't keep bringing it up. All I have done to be a good mother and my favourite daughter refuses to give me grandchildren," she sounded so melancholy when she said it that I almost missed the little smirk in her voice. I rolled my eyes in response to her overdramatic behaviour.

"Yes mother, it's not like you have four grandchildren to delight yourself with already," my sister had already given her three grandchildren with another one on the way and my mother insisted in demanding at least two from me. The beep from my stove's timer caught my attention, which drew my attention to the beef Wellington in the oven. Calculating by the time, it probably needed a few more minutes, so I turned off the oven so it would continue cooking with the remaining heat. "I have to go mamá, I'll talk to you later."

"Alright, let me know how the date went."

My mother hung up the phone, and I place my cellphone back down on the counter in order to focus on the food. After watching Masterchef the entire day yesterday, I decided that cooking a gourmet meal for my date would be more than ideal. That was the only reason why I'd allowed Sabrina to rope me into this date to begin with.

Jack Holton was a neurologist for Central Manhattan Memorial Hospital, a very influential man and well versed with people in the higher class of New York State residents. Sabrina had DJ's for hospital charities many times before, so she had introduced us when I accompanied her to one of them. From the brief conversation we had, he seemed like a very pleasant person to be around, not stuck up like it would be easy to believe for someone in his position.

When my best friend texted me on Friday that she had secured a date for me with Jack Holton on Sunday, I almost ruined my office compute due to the coffee cup shaking in my hand. I had previously thought that he was married, so the fact that he accepted a date with me was surprising.

The doorbell rang, startling me out of my thoughts and making me slice my index finger in the process.

"Holy mother of—" I dropped my knife onto the counter and stuck my finger in my mouth, hoping to stop the bleeding. The good news was, there wasn't a piece of my finger on the chopping board, so at least I wouldn't need serious medical attention.

The doorbell rang again and I pulled my finger out of my mouth to assess the damage. My finger had a slice in it, but no chunks were missing and it was bleeding less, so I threw the knife in the sink, rinsed the blood from it and my finger briefly in the process, then ran to the door.

"Hi!" My smile was massive once the sight of the man at my door was visible. "I'm so sorry to keep you waiting, I had a little accident," I held up my finger and gave him a sheepish look.

"Oh, are you alright? Let me take a look," he entered my apartment and grabbed my hand, taking a closer look at my mutilated finger. "Good news is, it doesn't look too bad. Let's get you some antiseptic and a bandaid."