Give Me A Second

"Mom, for the last time, I am not interested in dating right now." I sigh, cradling my phone between my ear and my shoulder as I scoop my son's dark blonde hair into a ponytail to keep it from getting into his eyes.

"He's a widow with a daughter, sweetie. He could understand what you are going through." My Birth Vessel continues as if she didn't hear me, giving me unnecessary details on the forty-something year old that happens to also attend her church.

I dubbed her Birth Vessel, or BV, shortly after she walked out on us during my senior year of high school. I'd never call her by that to her face, however. The midlife crisis that struck her hard that year has left her with a bit of a nasty streak when angered. Which is also why I tend to go along with her antics.... for the most part.

I roll my eyes, although she can't see me. It was highly unlikely that this prematurely balding man knew anything about what I went through on a daily basis.

It didn't matter if I responded to her, anyways. Good Ol' BV would continue her attempt in selling this guy to me. Even if I was remotely interested, I would still say no. She had given him my social media information last week and when I had politely turned him down in the private message he sent me, he then tattled to my mother. Something about that left a sour taste in my mouth and acid reflux in my chest.

"Just give him a chance, Wren, he is a really nice man." She says, the sound of wind making me strain to hear her.

She must be walking again.

BV just got a car again after ten years of not driving due to medical reasons. (She crashed her past vehicles enough times that her doctor had told her to take an extended break before renewing her license). However, even with a new license and a shiny car key, she still chooses to walk miles to her nearest Mickey D's.

My son is on his tablet at the sink as I come stray hairs behind his ears, ensuring he looks groomed and orderly for his morning therapy. A cow appears on the screen, in some game he's playing.

"Moo." He says to himself, his way of identifying the cow.

I smile down at him. Therapy has been showing a lot of results lately.

"Wren?" my mom, aka BV aka Birth Vessel asks, pulling me out of my thoughts and back into the mostly one-sided conversation.

I swallow a groan. "Mom," I respond, patiently, as if she's one of my students arguing with me. "I do not want to date what's-his-face, okay? I'm really focused on Nix's new routine and adjusting to working at home. I don't have time to date, and I really am not attracted to this guy."

"His name is Chris but okay, I'll keep looking." Great, more future randoms blowing up my phone. For once, I wish my protests would deter her from her 'fun' game of matchmaking me and my sister to some randos she finds at church or at the grocery store. Once, she even gave a teenage boy my number.

"He looked like he was your age, sweetie." She had replied, dismissing my incredulity over her mistake. Forget the fact that he appeared every minute of his barely eighteen years.

I stare over my son's head in the mirror. It's not that I don't want to date. I've been single for nearly six years now, come October. I'm not quite ready to move on like that, yet. I eye my shoulder-length blonde hair and turquoise eyes. I'm not ugly. But I am realistic, I'll never look like one of those gorgeous, leggy models gracing magazines that are carefully tucked under many an adult man's beds.

I'm always teetering on the edge of my goal weight, and my teeth are in bad need for a dentist visit and a whitening.

But beyond that, I know I'll be perfect for the right person. Just like that person will also be perfect for me. I don't want to date religious Chris from BV's ward or any other guy she decides could be my new Prince Charming. Since the event that no one was expecting, she's been trying to find me a new husband. Being a single mom, in her early thirties, is the ultimate taboo to my mother, I swear.

Although, my sister has no kids and is still in her twenties and is still single, so I'm not sure what my mother's reasoning is there.

No matter how many times I put a stop to her desire to marry me off a second time, she still won't understand the biggest truth: I never imagined my future being on my own, raising a disabled son. I had plans. I was married to someone I thought was my best friend and soul mate. We were going to have a big family and live happily ever after. That, obviously, ended up being a huge lie.

Now that I'm on my own, I plan on dedicating my focus on my son's health and well-being. Settling on some stranger my mom finds for me is not part of that. My list of red flags has grown to an exponential length, anyways.

But I can't do anything else, can't say anything else, to BV to get her to stop her mission in finding me 'love'.

"Well, Nix and I need to rush out now, mom. I love you." I say, in need of ending the phone call.

My mom says goodbye, adding an "I love you, too", already distracted in her social media stalking of whoever she has planned to throw my way next.

I tuck my phone into the back pocket of my jean shorts, allowing Phoenix to run off back to the room we share. 

I return my eyes to the mirror and sigh. Due to my new obsession with working out my daily frustrations at the gym every morning, my face has slimmed down quite a bit. My body, though, is still stuck between curvy and chubby. I'm learning to embrace the new rounder bits of me due to the miracle that is Nix, but it's hard. 

My eyes linger on my image as I turn away from the mirror, a thought entering my head, one that's been on my mind a lot lately. 

If only omegas and alphas exist, like in the novels and mangas I've been reading lately. 

A scene from the last manga I read flashes before me. A thin, fairy-like male omega who had eyes the same shade as mine with wavy blonde hair and a feminine grace I could only dream of having.

I had never wanted to be anyone else before. Or the opposite gender before, either. But staring at myself from the corner of my eye, I could envision myself as that omega. 

And that imaginary sight felt too right.

I shook my head, sighed again, and went to collect Phoenix and his things so we could head out and start our day.