Free The Matchbaker (A Romantic Comedy) by Jerrica Knight-Catania Page A

really drunk to toss my Betsey Johnson so carelessly to the floor. “I’m taking the ten-thirty train back to New York.”
    She stops and looks at me. “Why?”
    “Why?” Has she lost her mind? “Because I have a life there.”
    “But you said you were doing this. Your life is here now.”
    I put my hands to my forehead and rub my temples as I come to a seated position on the pull-out. “No, it’s not. I’m sorry, Mom. I’m going back to New York.”
    “You can’t say no,” Mom insists.
    Silence. I know I already said yes, and I feel horrible about that, but it doesn’t feel right. And having my mother tell me that I can’t say no makes it feel even worse. I don’t want this. I don’t want to bake, I don’t want to live in Connecticut. The only thing that’s holding me back is that I don’t want to let my family down, but that’s no way to live life. I have to do what’s best for me, for my life. They’ll just have to figure something out.
    “Yeah, you’ve said as much,” I finally reply. “But you haven’t told me why. You haven’t even told me about the change. You want me to give up everything but you won’t tell me for what.”
    “For the bakery, Candy.”
    “I’m saying no, Mom.” She stares at me, blinking as if she’s just been slapped. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t do this. It’s not me, and it’s not what I want for my life. I already have what I want and it’s in New York.”
    More silence. God, I wish she would say something. Anything! I would rather she yell and scream at me than just stand there looking like a wounded pup.
    When she finally does speak, she says, “I better put some coffee on for your father.”
    I feel like crap as she retreats up the stairs, but at the same time, I feel liberated. I’ve made a final decision—the one I know is right for me. I just have to feel good about that.
    I take a shower, get dressed and throw my stuff into my Louis. It’s still early yet to head for the train, but I don’t really want to be here when my parents re-emerge from the kitchen. Or when Holly comes back from her night with Colin. I just want to be alone and try to refocus on my life and my job. Tomorrow’s Monday, and I need to be ready to hit the ground running now that I’ve had my “getting familiar” week.
    I call a cab and then step out to the porch to wait. It’s an incredible summer morning. There’s a cool breeze and the air smells of dew-covered grass. I have a fleeting moment of regret, which I ruthlessly shove to the back of my mind.
    “Good morning, Pumpkin.” Dad pushes through the screen door and joins me on the porch. “You weren’t going to leave without saying good-bye, were you?”
    Guilt, guilt, guilt. I’m going to suffocate from the stuff. “Um, no,” I lie. “I was just getting a little fresh air. I was going to come in in just a minute.”
    That’s when I hear the crunch of tires on gravel. Crap. My cab is about to pull up and prove that I’m a cowardly liar. I try to pretend I don’t hear it behind me. Dad is looking over my shoulder and a smile comes to his face. Why would he smile at the fact that I’m taking a cab to the train station instead of letting him drive me?
    “I guess your sister and Colin had a late night?” he says, and I whirl around to see Colin driving Holly’s Mercedes up the driveway.
    Perfect. Just what I want—to have to face everyone this morning. I was really hoping I could get out of here and let Mom explain everything. It seems she hasn’t even told Dad yet. None of this is helping my raging hangover.
    “Good morning!” Holly yells as she slips out of the passenger seat. She reaches back in and grabs something from the rear before emerging again. “We brought donuts!”
    Ugh. Bile rises to my throat. When we were in high school and started having sex—responsibly, of course—we started an inside joke that Mom and Dad never caught on to. If you had sex, you brought home donuts for the