Mary Schmidt was totally over her mom’s death.
Which was why she definitely wasn’t thinking about it as she sat curled up on the couch, watching her moms favorite tv show with her dad.
Nope. Not at all.
She shoved a handful of popcorn into her mouth and forced her eyes to stay on the screen. Some overdramatic actor in a lab coat was waving his arms around, yelling about the mysteries of the mind. It was the kind of educational TV her mom loved—nerdy, a little outdated, and so boring that it was the perfect background noise for a night spent pretending everything was fine.
Her dad sat in his usual chair, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, sipping from his ancient coffee mug. He looked relaxed, which was a rare sight these days. His job at the city hall kept him busy, and with her brother off at college, it was usually just the two of them now.
A commercial break came on, and Mary stretched, grabbing the remote to flip through channels.
Then the phone rang.
Her dad didn’t move, just flicked his eyes toward her. “You gonna get that?”
Mary groaned and pushed herself off the couch. “If it’s another telemarketer, I swear—”
She grabbed the phone off the wall and answered with her usual level of grace:
“Yeah, what?”
There was a brief pause, then—
“…Uh. Hi?”
Mary froze.
Oh, crap.
She knew that voice.
It was biker guy.
Mike.
Her brain short-circuited for half a second before she yanked herself back together.
Play it cool, Schmidt.
She cleared her throat. “Oh. Hey. Uh, what’s up?”
Mike chuckled on the other end. “You sound surprised.”
“No, I just—” Mary ran a hand through her hair, turning away from her dad, who was still watching her with mild curiosity. “I wasn’t expecting you to call, that’s all.”
“You did give me your number.”
“I know that,” Mary shot back, gripping the phone cord a little too tight. “I just didn’t think you’d actually use it.”
“Well, here I am.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Mary rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the small smirk tugging at her lips. “Yeah, yeah. So what’s up?”
“So, are you free tomorrow?” Mike asked.
Mary hesitated. “Depends. I was thinking of taking overtime.”
There was a short silence on the line, like he was debating how to respond.
“…You want to take overtime?”
Mary sighed. “I mean, I should. But I guess I could do it another day.”
“Good. Then come to this robotics presentation with me.”
Mary blinked. “A what?”
“A robotics presentation,” Mike repeated. “It’s some tech expo thing. There’s a bunch of stuff about AI and automation. Thought it might be interesting.”
Mary frowned. “Dude. I spend five nights a week staring at robots. And you want me to voluntarily do it on my night off?”
Mike snorted. “Well, when you put it like that…”
Mary exhaled, rubbing her temple. “Why are you even going?”
“Couple reasons,” Mike said. “One, my boss gave me the tickets—he’s really into this stuff. And two, I figured it might be useful for the job.”
That made her pause.
As much as she wanted to avoid seeing more animatronics, the truth was… she was curious. Something was off about Candy’s. The way the animatronics moved, the weird noises she kept hearing, the feeling that something was watching her—it wasn’t normal.
Maybe this would help.
“…Fine,” she said. “I’m in.”
“Great,” Mike said, and she could hear the smirk in his voice. “Figured I’d win you over.”
Mary scoffed. “Yeah, yeah. Where are we meeting?”
They hashed out the details—Mike would meet her at the diner near her place, and from there, they’d head to the expo.
Mary twirled the phone cord around her finger. “Alright, got it.”
“Cool,” Mike said. “See you tomorrow then.”
Mary hesitated.
“…Yeah. See you Mike.”
She hung up.
Turned around.
And immediately regretted it.
Her dad was staring at her.
Eyebrow raised.
Coffee mug halfway to his mouth.
“Whose Mike?”
Mary blinked. “Huh?”
“You just agreed to go somewhere with a guy named Mike.”
“Did I?” she said way too quickly.
Her dad just kept staring.
Mary groaned and flopped onto the couch, rubbing her face. “Relax, it’s not a thing.”
“I didn’t say it was a thing,” her dad said. “But you are acting weird.”
“I always act weird.”
Her dad snorted. “True.”
Mary sighed and gave in. “He’s just some guy I met when my car got stolen. We work the same shift. That’s all.”
Her dad hummed. “Where’s he work?”
Mary hesitated for half a second.
“...Freddy’s.”
Her dad blinked. “Freddy’s?”
Mary braced herself. “Yeah.”
“The place with the missing children?”
Mary groaned. “Dad. Please. That was, like, years ago.”
Her dad made a face but didn’t argue.
Instead, he leaned back in his chair and took a sip of coffee. “So, you’re meeting up with this ‘not a thing’ Mike at a robotics presentation?”
“Yes,” Mary said flatly.
“On your night off?”
“Yes.”
Her dad smirked. “Sounds like a date.”
Mary’s face ignited.
“It is not a date,” she snapped.
“Sure,” her dad said, in the most obviously-not-believing-her tone imaginable.
Mary groaned and buried her face in a pillow.
There was a pause.
Then—
“I’ll drop you off,” her dad said.
Mary peeked out. “What?”
“I’ll drop you off,” he repeated, sipping his coffee. “I wanna meet this Mike.”
Mary sputtered. “DAD.”
“What?”
“You don’t need to meet him!”
Her dad shrugged. “I think I do.”
Mary groaned. “Why?”
“Because,” her dad said, “you don’t talk about guys. Like, ever. And now, suddenly, there’s a Mike taking you to a robot convention?”
“It’s not a date,” she stressed.
“Uh-huh,” he said, in that tone.
Mary threw her hands in the air. “Fine! Whatever! But you better not embarrass me.”
Her dad smirked. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
She did not believe him.
----------------------------------------
Mary lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, definitely not overthinking everything.
It wasn’t a date.
It was a work-related trip.
To a robotics expo.
With a guy she barely knew.
Who had called her at home.
Who she had voluntarily given her number to.
She rolled over and screamed into her pillow.