I let myself into the house as quietly as possible. The lights were out downstairs but when I entered the small foyer I saw the faint light from Mom’s room upstairs causing a weird shadow on the stairs.
“Cindy?” my mother’s voice called out expectantly.
“Yeah, Mom. I’m home.” I hung up my coat and slowly began climbing the stairs to my room.
“So how was it?” Mom asked behind her half open bedroom door.
“Oh, y’know,OK.” I answered in my tired voice.
I went to my room and unzipped my dress and kicked off my high heels. I looked in the mirror, deep into my own eyes, and sighed. “Cindy,” I said to myself, “No more blind dates.” In my bra and panties, I walked to the bathroom to wash off the makeup, brush out my hair, and prepare to cry myself to sleep in my own comfortable bed. I was bent over the sink with a washcloth wiping off the foundation, lipgloss, mascara, and eyeliner I had applied so carefully only a few hours before. The sound of fast rushing water and the soft moistness of the washcloth against my face felt good. Safe. Comforting.
“So tell me all about it!” my mother’s excited voice came at me from behind.