“Does there always have to be an occasion for us to visit our children?” she answered, and I could hear the scolding in her tone.

“No,” I answered quickly.

I paused outside the museum as I arrived at work, hoping to hurry and wrap up the call before going inside.

“If you must know, Calvin invited us for the weekend,” she replied.

So, he knew. 

I was going to murder him the next time I saw him. Not really, but he was definitely high on my list of frustrations. He knew exactly what type of conundrum he walked me straight into, the probing questions and the backhanded compliments.

I loved my parents, but they weren’t the most sensitive of people.

“Will we be seeing you before Friday?” my mother added.

“When do you arrive?” I asked.

“Late next Wednesday.”

At least I had plenty of time to prepare for their arrival. I let out a breath of relief. I just needed to avoid them for a little over a day to make it to dinner.

“Eloise and I will be doing brunch on Thursday. You should join us,” she added.

“I work on Thursdays,” I noted.

“Perfect. Then we will just drop by the museum after.”

“That’s not-” I started.

“I will see you then,” she said cheerily before hanging up.

“See you then,” I muttered.

What did I do to piss of the universe so badly?

I had my quiet little life and routine, and I’d managed to keep that intact until now. My parents never pushed over the past three years, but I couldn’t hold them off any longer. I was running out of time to keep asking for space or making excuses for distancing myself.

The door to the museum shut behind me, the cold air inside slamming into me and pulling me from my thoughts.

“Late,” Barren teased, spotting me.

I scoffed under my breath. It was the first time in my life I was even being close to late, and I still had fifteen minutes before I technically clocked in for the day.

“You’re just unprecedentedly early,” I countered.

“Someday, you will be just like the rest of us,” Barren teased.

Never willing to put in the work needed to get ahead. 

“How so?” I entertained.

“Normal,” he laughed. “Not hours early every day and not here after hours. Don’t you have other things to do, hobbies or friends?”

The question stung, and I tried to hide the hurt from my face. Mallory was my friend, and I tried plenty of hobbies. My most recent fixation, crocheting, had ended in lots of spare supplies and at least three half started and abandoned blankets.

“This job is my passion. I don’t need more than that,” I settled on.

He shrugged. “What was that guy yesterday looking for?” Barren asked, changing the subject.

“Who?” I asked, hoping I could avoid sharing more than necessary.