snoringly good time for New Year’s Eve, but it’s better than the alternative.
The usual New Year’s Eve party at which I’d make an appearance would likely be
attended by my ex-fiancé. He’s a super big jerk and I’m avoiding him at all
costs. Unless I have a GQ looking date by my side, that is. This would
counteract his Victoria’s Secret looking replacement for me.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to arrange even a semi-hot date
for tonight. Since breaking up with the ex, my dating life has amounted to a
couple blind dates that were orchestrated by my so-called friends. All of the
dates, utter disasters.
So, I’m off to meet my sweet parents, hoping they’ll have
mercy on me and not ask if I’m seeing anyone new. They know how hard the last
few months have been on me. It’s rather mind-blowing to come home early from
work and find your fiancé in bed with the hot neighbor down the hall…
Well, it definitely took the wind out of my sails. Now if I
could just find someone to re-inflate them. Hmmm… Maybe there will be a hot
waiter or bartender at the restaurant tonight. I could go for a little harmless
flirting. Of course, I’ll need at least two strong drinks to play that game.
Maybe even more with my parents supervising me.
God, I’m hanging out with my parents on New Year’s Eve. Could
I be any more lame? Probably not. At least I have my job to keep me busy. I’ve
thrown myself into advancing my career since my breakup, and my latest promotion
puts me way ahead of the ex-fiancé in the income department. Gloating isn’t my
normal style but right now, I can’t help it.
The elevator doors open to the garage parking in the lower
levels of the building. There are only two cars in view, Mr. Stephens’s and
mine. My sporty little SUV is all shiny and new. It was a little post-breakup
present to myself. It should be a big help with tonight’s weather, too.
Pulling out of the parking garage, I’m hit with a wall of
snow. The weatherman said flurries were likely this afternoon, but this is
close to being a complete whiteout. My palms are starting to sweat now.
I grip the steering wheel tightly and curse the white stuff
blowing around me. Dammit. I hate driving in the snow. One would think being
raised in Chicago would give me mad snow driving skills, but I have no love for
the snow. I’m always a ball of tension behind the wheel when it starts sticking
to the ground.
Since the roads are completely snow-covered and getting
treacherous I inch my way toward Lake Shore Drive. There’s a red light up ahead
and thankfully I ease into a skid-free stop and exhale. Removing my white
knuckled fingers from the steering wheel, I pull my phone out of my purse. I
need to make a quick call to my mother, let her know that I’m going be late. Real
late.
"Kat!” My mother’s voice is strained and anxious. “I’ve
been worried sick. Have you left work yet?”
"Yes, I'm just about to get onto Lake Shore. But I
wanted to give you a heads-up. The snow is crazy right now. Traffic is
horrible, so I'll probably be late."
"Oh, sweetie. I know how you hate driving in snow.
Maybe you should wait until the roads are better?"
"I'll be okay. This is Chicago, Mom. If there is one thing
they can do, it's clean up some snow. I'll be fine."
"Promise you’ll be careful and turn around if it gets
worse,” she begs.
“I promise. Please don’t worry. I’ll be okay.” I try to
comfort her and I think it works because she changes the subject.
“I baked one of your favorites today. Apple pie. As a matter
of fact, I’m going to thaw some steaks. We’ll just eat at home tonight.”
"Sounds good. I have no idea when I’ll get to the
house.” I see cars starting to move in front of me. “Oh, Mom, the light turned
green, better go."
"Bye, Kat. Drive safe, dear."
I say goodbye and end the call, as both of my hands are
needed on the steering wheel. My neck and shoulder muscles tense up as the car
moves forward. Hopefully,
The usual New Year’s Eve party at which I’d make an appearance would likely be
attended by my ex-fiancé. He’s a super big jerk and I’m avoiding him at all
costs. Unless I have a GQ looking date by my side, that is. This would
counteract his Victoria’s Secret looking replacement for me.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to arrange even a semi-hot date
for tonight. Since breaking up with the ex, my dating life has amounted to a
couple blind dates that were orchestrated by my so-called friends. All of the
dates, utter disasters.
So, I’m off to meet my sweet parents, hoping they’ll have
mercy on me and not ask if I’m seeing anyone new. They know how hard the last
few months have been on me. It’s rather mind-blowing to come home early from
work and find your fiancé in bed with the hot neighbor down the hall…
Well, it definitely took the wind out of my sails. Now if I
could just find someone to re-inflate them. Hmmm… Maybe there will be a hot
waiter or bartender at the restaurant tonight. I could go for a little harmless
flirting. Of course, I’ll need at least two strong drinks to play that game.
Maybe even more with my parents supervising me.
God, I’m hanging out with my parents on New Year’s Eve. Could
I be any more lame? Probably not. At least I have my job to keep me busy. I’ve
thrown myself into advancing my career since my breakup, and my latest promotion
puts me way ahead of the ex-fiancé in the income department. Gloating isn’t my
normal style but right now, I can’t help it.
The elevator doors open to the garage parking in the lower
levels of the building. There are only two cars in view, Mr. Stephens’s and
mine. My sporty little SUV is all shiny and new. It was a little post-breakup
present to myself. It should be a big help with tonight’s weather, too.
Pulling out of the parking garage, I’m hit with a wall of
snow. The weatherman said flurries were likely this afternoon, but this is
close to being a complete whiteout. My palms are starting to sweat now.
I grip the steering wheel tightly and curse the white stuff
blowing around me. Dammit. I hate driving in the snow. One would think being
raised in Chicago would give me mad snow driving skills, but I have no love for
the snow. I’m always a ball of tension behind the wheel when it starts sticking
to the ground.
Since the roads are completely snow-covered and getting
treacherous I inch my way toward Lake Shore Drive. There’s a red light up ahead
and thankfully I ease into a skid-free stop and exhale. Removing my white
knuckled fingers from the steering wheel, I pull my phone out of my purse. I
need to make a quick call to my mother, let her know that I’m going be late. Real
late.
"Kat!” My mother’s voice is strained and anxious. “I’ve
been worried sick. Have you left work yet?”
"Yes, I'm just about to get onto Lake Shore. But I
wanted to give you a heads-up. The snow is crazy right now. Traffic is
horrible, so I'll probably be late."
"Oh, sweetie. I know how you hate driving in snow.
Maybe you should wait until the roads are better?"
"I'll be okay. This is Chicago, Mom. If there is one thing
they can do, it's clean up some snow. I'll be fine."
"Promise you’ll be careful and turn around if it gets
worse,” she begs.
“I promise. Please don’t worry. I’ll be okay.” I try to
comfort her and I think it works because she changes the subject.
“I baked one of your favorites today. Apple pie. As a matter
of fact, I’m going to thaw some steaks. We’ll just eat at home tonight.”
"Sounds good. I have no idea when I’ll get to the
house.” I see cars starting to move in front of me. “Oh, Mom, the light turned
green, better go."
"Bye, Kat. Drive safe, dear."
I say goodbye and end the call, as both of my hands are
needed on the steering wheel. My neck and shoulder muscles tense up as the car
moves forward. Hopefully,
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