3D: The Welcome Wagon

Sunday afternoons were so depressing. Maya enjoyed lounging around, soaking up the last few hours of freedom, but work encroached on her chill time like a shadow at dusk. No one ordered her to read emails, but the part of her which still cared about the job required preparation for the Monday morning meetings. She and Ranveer watched a movie that didn’t hold her interests, so she slipped away to take care of the work crap.

“Are you going in the kitchen?” Ranveer asked.

“No. You want something? I’ll get it for you.”

“Nah, it’s cool.”

“Sure? I was just gonna…” Someone on the porch stole her attention, and she ran to answer the door. “Mommy! What a pleasant surprise!”

Skyla laughed. “Is Mommy gonna be a thing now?”

“Hush up. You know you love it.”

The house warming party was on the books, but she couldn’t expect people to wait two months to see the house. Especially not her mother. Maya wrapped her arms around Skyla’s bag of bones and squeezed tightly. Darn Oliver genes. She and Aubrey were perpetually thin. Maya loved her curves but had to watch her weight more than they did. They could eat delicious, fattening goodness like Lobster Thermidor every day without worry while she lamented over cutting calories or working out, Watcher forbid.

“It looks great in here,” Skyla beamed, spinning around to view everything.

“You want to go upstairs?”

“No, it’s ok. I’ll see it at the party when it’s done.”

“Come, sit!”

Her hair grayed so much in the last year. Now with the glasses, Maya couldn’t ignore the facts: her parents were getting old. Heck, her own birthday approached like a subway at a station. None of them were as young as they used to be. Not even Aubrey.

“You’ve done a great job, pumpkin! I didn’t know you had it in you!”

“I guess you, Aubrey, and Penny rubbed off on me!”

“I don’t think so, babe.”

Skyla and Maya stared at him, waiting for his next words.

“I think you’ve had it in you all along.”

“Ranveeeeeer, you’re making me blush in front of Mom,” she said playfully.

“I’m serious. You have great style and an even greater eye for color. Everyone can agree your closet slays.”

Skyla snorted. “Someone’s been forcing you to listen to Bailey Kay, I see.”

Maya shushed her. “Quiet, Mother. Don’t interrupt him while boosting my ego!”

Skyla smiled and shook her head.

“You’ve always had talent,” he continued. “You just never had your own space to express it.”

“Thank you, baby!”

Skyla nodded approvingly at his words with a worried look. “I didn’t mean that as a slight to you, pumpkin. I just failed to see it like Ranveer did. I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings.”

“Nah, you’re good.”

Skyla never really hurt her feelings, but Maya often felt judged—especially with her wardrobe. Her curves weren’t new; she always had them. She got them from both sides. Did Skyla forget her dangerous curves of her youth? But, the great Watcher endowed Maya with crazy confidence and a love her body. She used it as a tool to express herself and relate to others. Shouldn’t a mother be proud not to need the body positivity conversation? Instead, Skyla glared at her, wishing she’d wear sackcloth or whatever.

“I’m so happy and proud of you! You’ve got this beautiful house and a beautiful ring … Next thing you know you’ll be scheduling a baby shower!”

“Whoa, whoa, whooooooa. Mom, CHILL! One thing at a time, woman!”