Fifteen dollars an hour more than compensated her for the mundane and occasionally demeaning work Mary was doing. She worked eight hour days, spending the majority of the day proof reading research results and compiling data. At lunch time she was reminded of the lowliness of her position when the professor would pop his head in and tell her where to go get his lunch.
With her first full week of work behind her, she now understood how why her parents loved Friday so much; she would have two glorious days off to do whatever she chose; it was time to go home and visit the family. Her bags were already packed and waiting in her room, so she could quickly grab them and catch the 5: 30 coach home.
Mary beamed as she told her parents about the job she had gotten and how much she was learning and enjoying it; for the most part, she was trying to convince herself she liked the job more than she did. The truth was that she liked the money and more importantly, she needed it. Saturday after dinner, she curled in to her dad on the couch while he watched Hockey; during commercials they would talk.
Her father gave her a squeeze, "Do you know how proud I am of you Mary?"
"I do Daddy." Mary smiled and tucked her face into his chest.
"My little girl is growing up so fast. It wasn't so long ago I was brushing your hair and putting you on a school bus for your first day of school. Now you are all grown up, living away from home, getting a university education and providing for yourself."
Mary beamed at her father's words.
"Hard to believe, but I was nowhere near as responsible and mature as you are." The game came back on and he gave her a gentle nudge letting her know that chat time had been put on hold.
Conversations with her mother were slightly different. Mary's mother asked all the tough questions while focusing heavily on the response in her tone and facial expressions. The toughest one was about the boys at university. Instead of asking if she was seeing anyone, she asked Mary if she was using protection. Mary had almost fallen on the floor at the presumption that she was so sexually liberated at school.
"What kind of a question is that Mom?" Mary's shock stood out in her voice.
Her Mom shrugged, "I went to University, and I know what happens there."
Mary wondered if her Mom could even fathom her university experiences but was afraid to pry for details in fear of hearing things that could not be forgotten. She opted to throw a twist at her, "Actually Mom, I am seeing someone."
"Oh really? How did you meet this boy you have kept secret from us?"
Mary smiled, "I met him on the first day of class actually. We talked regularly after class, then one day I ran into him at work and our relationship blossomed."
"This boy is in your class?"
"Yes."
Mary watched as her Mom gave her the inquisitive stare.
"What else do you want to tell me about him?"
"Um, I like him and he likes me." Mary realized it was probably a bad road to have gone down saying she had a boyfriend.
"Would your Daddy approve of him?"
"I think him and Dad would have a lot in common!" Mary smiled at her mom, "If it gets serious, I will be sure to bring him home to meet you two. Okay?"
Her mom seemed contented for the moment, but as history had taught Mary, follow up questions would come out of nowhere, "I'm going to watch the last inning of the game with Dad."
That night Mary climbed into her bed; it seemed foreign, juvenile to her now. Objects that were once so significant to her seemed childish and lacked importance.
Mary: Hi
Gilles: How is the visit with the family going?
Mary: Alright
Gilles: Alright?
Mary: I may have told my mother I'm in a relationship
Gilles: Oh really?
Mary: Yeah, with you
Gilles: LOL, I had no idea
