T
he morning after Mama’s surprise apparition at the wedding, my landline and cell phone started ringing off the hook and didn’t stop. (The more subtle gossipmongers sent me e-mails with lunch invitations. Where were they yesterday, was what I wanted to know.) The grapevine was working at light speed.
All the women who’d ever set eyes on me in Sandy Springs called to get the gory details, pretending they just wanted “to catch up.” A few who knew me fairly well even had the nerve to ask straight-out about what happened. To those, I explained that I hadn’t seen anything personally, and that my mother was “confused” and hadn’t given me any warning she planned to go to the wedding.
I could tell right away that they didn’t believe me. Worse, they were clearly annoyed that I wouldn’t dish the dirt.
Not wanting to burn any bridges now that I was on my own, I mustered up a cheeriness I didn’t feel and told the callers I had to leave for a dentist’s appointment (I forgot it was Sunday), but suggested we do lunch sometime soon. Predictably, they blew me off.
But the calls kept coming, so by eleven that morning, I finally gave up and shut off or unplugged every method of communication in my house.
Oddly, it was the lack of noise that brought a fuzzy Emma from her old room. Smeared mascara ringed her eyes like a raccoon, and her new haircut stuck out every which way as she shuffled into the kitchen and wrapped me in a silent hug that reminded me how much I’d missed human touch since she’d moved away.
Holding on to each other, we gently swayed till she let out a huge yawn, then arched her back and pulled away. “Coffee,” she croaked with morning-after breath.
I poured her a mug. “Have fun last night?”
She brightened, still squinting against the morning light that flooded in from the sunroom. “
Oh,
yes.”
I handed her the coffee. “The rich, cute, smart nerd from the wedding?”
Emma curled up in her chair, heels on the seat, with a secret smile. “Not a nerd, as it turns out. A total stud. Rocked my world.”
I made a face. “Uh-oh. Maybe I don’t need to hear about this.” Mama’s escapades had set me back far enough.
“Down, girl,” Emma said. “He’s a perfect gentleman. Didn’t even try to kiss me till we got to the door at two.”
While her mother lay in a drunken stupor.
“But when he kissed me, it was …” She blushed, her eyes losing focus. “
Whew
… incredible.” Her features eased in wonder. “He’s so sweet and old-fashioned. And intelligent. And funny. And
hot.
” She took another sip of her coffee. “I know better than to believe in love at first kiss, but last night made me understand why some people have sex on the first date.”
I closed my eyes, stuck my fingers in my ears, and started chanting, “Na, na, na, na, na, na, na!”
Emma laughed and pulled my finger from one ear. “Oh, quit that. We just kissed. And kissed.” She went dreamy. “And kissed.”
I’d never seen her act this way about anybody. “And?”
“And …” She grinned. “Do we have any more whole wheat bagels and strawberry cream cheese?”
“You know we do. Don’t change the subject.” I got up to make them for her. “Come on. Let’s have it.”
She exhaled briefly, then said, “Well, actually, he proposed. And proposed. And proposed.”
I stopped in mid-schmear. “You’re kidding, right?”
Emma shook her head again. “Nope. And I don’t think he was kidding either.” She frowned. “At least, he said he was serious.” Her mouth went askew. “Of course, we’d both had a few.”
Seeing the concern on my face, she added, “He had a limo, with a driver, so don’t get upset. The man’s way too smart to drink and drive.”
“Good.” I handed her the bagels and sat beside her with my coffee. “So, what now?”
She shook her head again with that same dazed, can-this-be-real expression. “I don’t know. We’ll see what happens in the harsh light of day.”
A chattering buzz erupted in the huge, slouchy purse she’d dropped by the door. Emma leaped five feet to retrieve it before it quit ringing. “Hello?”
In an instant, she went radiant, crazy hair and smeared mascara and all. “Hi.” She collapsed back into her chair, pulling her knee to her chest.
“I don’t know.” Emma cocked her head. “I’ll have to ask my mother.” She tucked the cell phone against her shoulder for an amazed, “Bill wants to know if I’ll marry him.”
I almost choked on my coffee, but I managed to get it down. “Tell him yes,” I said, which seriously took her aback, till I added, “In two years, and not a day sooner.”
Emma grinned. “Mama says it’s okay,” she told Bill, “but not for two years.”
She laughed at his response, then settled to listen with a look of pure adoration. “Well, okay, then,” she finally said. “How about twelve?” She nodded. “Okay. See you soon. Bye.”
She pushed the disconnect button, staring briefly at the screen before she lifted her eyes to me in amazement. “Well, looks like we have a date.”
“The Cheesecake Factory is a great place for a second date,” I said. “Lots of noise and energy. And sugar.”
“No, I mean a wedding date,” Emma corrected. “I am officially engaged, and the wedding’s two years from today.”
Back up, Jack. “But you two just met each other.” This time, my objections were sincere. “You live in Alaska. What about all those hunky men up there? What about being special up there? And your job?”
She rolled her lips inward and shrugged. “Suddenly, all those men don’t look so good. And Bill thinks I’m special right here.”
Wait a minute. “Honey, I was only kidding about accepting his proposal.”
Emma smiled. “Well, I wasn’t. This could work.”
Just when I thought things couldn’t get any crazier.
“Sweetie, please promise me you won’t do anything till you two really get to know each other.” Like Mama had promised to apologize? “You just met this man. For all you know, he could have been brought up by ax murderers. Family is very important, you know.”
“Ah, family.” There was that mischievous look again. “You mean, like my agoraphobic hoarder of a grandmother?” Emma said calmly. “Who went totally Jerry Springer at my father’s wedding to your best friend, then had to be dragged away, kicking and screaming?”
Ouch.
“Bill’s got a fabulous family,” Emma went on. “His father’s a minister, and his mother’s a teacher, and he has two sisters and a brother—all decent, productive people.” She patted my arm. “So you don’t have to worry on that account.”
I sank to a chair. “I think I need some water.”
Emma got me a cold spring water from the fridge, then set it in front of me and hugged me from behind. “Don’t worry, Mama,” she said beside my ear. “I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself. If things don’t work out between Bill and me, then so be it. But at least I was willing to give it a chance.” She kissed the top of my head and let go. “I think I’ll stick around for a few weeks, if that’s okay with you.”
“I’d love that, but your job—”
“I have tons of vacation built up,” Emma mused. “Think I’ll take a month or so. Who knows? Maybe Bill really is Mr. Right.”
Whistling, she retreated to get ready for her date.
Alone in the kitchen, I suddenly felt as if everybody in the world was paired up but me. Kat had my ex-husband, may God have mercy on her soul. Amelia had Sonny. Mama had
Claude.
And now Emma had Bill.
For the first time in a long time, I felt deeply and grievously lonely.
Not in the spiritual sense. I had a strong, active Christian faith. But God couldn’t put His arms around me and shelter me with warmth when my mother publicly humiliated the whole family. And God couldn’t stroke my hair and tell me it was going to be all right when I woke from a bad dream, or found myself living one for real.
Then I scolded myself for sitting on the pity pot.
I was whole and healthy and had a wonderful home and two healthy, loving daughters and grandchildren, and enough alimony to live comfortably. I had work I loved that helped other people achieve their best. So I was blessed beyond ninety-nine and ninetenths of the world.
Even when that blessing included Greg, right across the street, and Mama shagging somebody named Claude who was probably only looking for some hot food and an easy lay. And Emma was engaged to a man she just met yesterday.
Hallelujah, amen.
What next?