Falling for the Matchmaker [ Chaennie ]

Chapter 23 : Roseanne

Roseanne

I don't think I've known a better Sunday. I woke up happier than I can remember being in a long time. I feel light. I feel good. I feel free. I feel like I could step outside and just float away, up to the sky all on my own. I should have known that something would happen to ground me. A person can't ride a high like this forever. While I'm frying up eggs and making toast, my mom walks into the kitchen. She's like a ghost or a stalker, something out of those horror movies that give you a real heart attack. When someone's not there one second and the next, bam! They are. She appears so suddenly that I nearly jump straight onto the stove. The frying pan clatters off the burner, I bump it so hard. I automatically reach for the handle to steady it. The eggs are barely even half done, but I turn off the burner and don't set them back on the heat. Suddenly, I'm not hungry.

She's never anything less than completely put together. She's a great person. A nice, compassionate, thoughtful, beautiful woman. I couldn't ask for a better mom. She might be mild tempered for the most part, but when she's determined to do something, look out! She can be extremely stubborn. I wouldn't use the word mulish because that's way too old-fashioned and that doesn't really describe her style. She just won't stop until she's achieved what she wants to achieve. Dedicated isn't the right word either, but I don't really know what is. My mom's hard to describe. She's many different things. She's been my father's rock, his confidant, his love, his friend. She's supported him with the business, given him advice, spent endless hours helping him. She was always there for me and my brother too. She ran the household and refused to ever hire anyone until just a few years ago to do any errands or cleaning. She's one of those people that does it all and then some.

I've always admired and respected my mom. She's been the type of woman that I've always looked up to, even if I knew that I never wanted to be her because our personalities are totally different. She had no idea why I wanted to study science or teach kids. It's very disappointing to her that I don't have a husband or children by now and don't have any interest in becoming a part of the company. To her, I guess I'm a bit of a mystery. Maybe she doesn't know the right words to describe me either. Mothers and daughters. Aren't they always kind of that way with each other? We can love the heck out of each other and still not truly understand each other. We don't fight, but we don't really agree on much either.

"Rosie." Mom says my name as a sort of guarded greeting. She sets her black leather purse down on the island's white quartz countertop. As usual, she's immaculately dressed. Not fancy. Just her regular black pants, cardigan, blouse ensemble she wears when she goes out. Today her blouse is red and the cardigan is black. Plain, but dignified. Her hair turned grey a long time ago and she never bothered with dying it. She always liked to wear it long and she has it pulled back in a tidy bun at the back of her head. Not at her nape. Not on top. Somewhere in the middle. Not a hair is out of place. She's wearing the gold chain that my dad gave her for Christmas before I was born. It's her favorite. She has tons of other jewellery, but she hardly ever takes off that necklace. I know that she has tons of rings too, but she only ever wears her plain gold wedding band.

"Mom..." I'm not sure why she's here. She has the code for the front door because she's my mom and I didn't see any harm in giving it to her. Normally she calls me to tell me that she's coming. This is only probably the second or third time she's ever just walked in. "Do you want eggs? Toast?"

The toaster pops then, comically. Mom shakes her head. There's something wrong with her eyes. They're too intense. Not narrowed, but dark. She has dark brown eyes like me. She's a few inches shorter than I am, but she's every bit as in shape. Mom always liked to be active. She was always naturally trim, so exercise was something she enjoyed, not something she made herself do. She still loves her yoga classes and she and my dad often go for walks or even go hiking or biking together.