Caleb's P.O.V

"Well darling, would you care to recall today's events? How was the first day?" My mother's dark eyes watched me through her mirror's reflection. I was with her in my parents' shared master bathroom. She was powdering her face, getting ready for tonight's bible study. Her black hair was shiny and straight, fresh from a date with the hair dresser. From years of watching her, I knew that she would cover her head tonight with a scarf as a sign of reverence to God. It was something that most of the women at our church did. My mother - in all her vainness - made it her duty to match all her clothing to whatever colour scarf she was wearing. Tonight it was blue and the sight of it made me involuntary recite a nursery rhyme in my head;

Blue, blue God loves you.

What about the color blue draws God's affection is beyond me.

"It was great Ma. I'm really looking forward to the rest of the week," I replied honestly.

My mother shifted her focus to her earrings. They were pearls. Large and pristine.

"That's great baby. I really must thank Sister Clementine again for encouraging you to apply at Omega. God bless her heart," she said with the flash of a smile.

I nodded aware that she was still eying me in the mirror.

"See any pretty girls? Any Christians?" she asked eagerly. She was now carefully applying her lipstick. Ruby red. Her all time favorite.

I rolled my eyes in mocked annoyance in response to my mother's question. It was a habit of hers to pry into my personal life when ever possible.

Ma's face paled.

"Caleb Jerome Calaway! Don't you be rolling your eyes at me child! If I wasn't a christian, I would peck out those eyes using just this lipstick," she said holding up the item for emphasis.

I stifled a laugh.

Ma humphed before applying another layer of lipstick.

"You are the son of a pastor Caleb. Eye rolling isn't exactly accepted as respectful, especially not at Zion Ministries,"

"I was only joking around mother,"

"Well I care about the image of this ministry and your eye rolling isn't something I want to see - God forbid -on a Sunday morning at the alter," Ma replied with a look of solemnity.

This was my mother.

Mrs. Rosa Evelyn Matthews - Calaway.
A name mentioned with nothing but respect. Pleasant, yet crazy serious at the same time. She played no games when it came to the reputation of the church or herself.

"Of course Ma. I'm sorry,"

My mother hardly seemed to acknowledge what I'd said. She ushered me out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. I watched as she selected, from a vast array, a pair of sandals to put on.

"Were there any christian women at the office?" she asked again. Leave it up to my mother to always get back on track.

"I don't know Ma. It was only the first day after all," came my answer.

"Oh of course. I'm getting ahead of myself. Now Caleb, you do remember that special scripture your father and I taught you, right?"

"I'm not sure if I can remember. There so many special scriptures..." I said with a sly smile.

Ma didn't seem to get that I was joking.

"Of course you remember Caleb. It's -"

"Proverbs 12:4: An excellent wife is the crown of her husband, but she who brings shame is like rottenness in his bones," I interjected, "yes Ma. I remember,"

My mother patted my cheek in pleasure. The bracelets on her arm made tiny tinkling sounds as they moved.

"That's good. Be sure to bring home an excellent woman just like your father who bought me home to his parents. We've been married ten years and we're still very much happy,"

With that she turned and walked out of the room. Her bible firmly in her hands, her skirt swooshing behind her.

"Anything for you mom," I muttered.

It wasn't like I didn't want to date anyone. I've had plenty of relationships in the past. However none of them ever made it past the scrutiny of my mother. They were all never up to her standards for me and she would force its premature destruction with little care as to what I thought.

Even now as an adult my mother still wanted to have a huge say in who I went out with. Though I often tried to please my mother it was getting to the point where I couldn't handle all her eagerness for me to find "the right, God sent one." I wasn't even sure if I believed in "the one ." I've never been drawn to bad girls and the ones I thought to bring home were relatively sweet. They had their head on. They wanted families and we're even open to joining the church, but for some reason or the other my mother would find fault with each of them. "Mother's intuition"  she'd call it. They weren't good enough for her son. They weren't who the Lord showed her was right for me.
After a while, I stopped bringing girls around. I even kept my last relationship a secret and even though it hadn't worked out, at least I didn't have to deal with my mother eating me out for it.