The doorbell rings. No one rings the doorbell to our house unless they’re FedEx or UPS

“Ruchie, you ready?” It’s my mother. Her voice is calm. Always calm.

“Yeah, Ma, coming in a minute.” I like waiting until the last minute, enjoy being alone until I can’t anymore.

I can hear my father pacing in the living room. I smell the cookies my mother decided to make 20 minutes ago. So far, all is the same. I smile.

I take one last look in the mirror. I fix my smudged eyeliner and push back a few strands of hair.

Heels or wedges I text my friend Dina.

How tall is he?

Idk

Stick to the wedges, may as well be comfortable 🙂

Bless her soul. We’d been through this more times than I can count. Now it’s just me, but she’s still loyal and understanding.

That familiar tense feeling in my stomach is there. I take a deep breath, put on a brave smile. Here goes nothing.

I enter the living room looking relaxed. It’s just me and my parents now. Comfortable. So many unsaid words in the air, but it’s okay that way.

My parents are making a joke about what they’re going to talk about. I laugh. A superficial laugh. Not quite fair, I think. They have each other and I have to do this all alone. At least it’s my 53rd time and 23rd guy (who’s counting?) so I’ve got experience.

It’s a little chilly out. Good, I’ll need a coat. Don’t want a date without a pocket. I need my phone with me even though I won’t use it.

My friend Miriam texts me that she’s outside in her car. It’s like this unspoken agreement that we have to lighten things up. You okay? She writes.

Ya BH. Can’t wait for this before part to be over. I send her a selfie of how I look.

You look pretty! Good luck.

Thanks.