I am reading What Alice Forgot, my third book by my new favorite author, Liane Moriarty.
It is another cloudless day. Hot. Maybe 90 but feels like 70. A perfectly regulated breeze keeps the heat at bay.
I am on Wild Harbor Beach with my mom. All I want to do is read. In fact, before leaving the house, I not so subtly ask, “Did you bring your book?” My mom’s a big reader. “Yup,” she responds. “I have it right here,” and she points to her packed beach bag.
The beach mid-week is pleasantly populated (enough people to be social with if you want, but not so many that you’re fighting over sand space).
I settle in. Beach chair facing sun. Tilted in the perfect reading and sunning position. Cool drink in hand.
I read about five pages, or more accurately, 1% on my Kindle.
“I love this coat by Eileen Fisher. Did you see it?” My mom hands me the NY Times Fashion Section.
“Oh, that’s really nice,” I respond. It is. I try to keep my answers short to discourage conversation.
I read another 1%.
“Have you seen Adam’s apartment since he re-decorated it?”
“No, I haven’t,” and I return to my book.
Less than 1% this time.
“So, what do you want to do for dinner tonight?”
“I haven’t thought about it,” I reply, as I unwrap half a cranberry chicken salad sandwich. It’s 2pm and I’m eating lunch. I haven't yet contemplated dinner.
“So what’s happening in your office?” The founder of the company is in the news. He’s being sued by his partners for all sorts of awful things. Of course she's interested in knowing about that. I wish I had something of substance to tell her.
I go back to my book.
“So, when is M going back to Boston?” She has to move her son into his dorm but she’ll be returning tomorrow.
I try to read some more but my interest is waning.
My mom wants to talk. And she can be pretty entertaining.
My book can wait.