I wish Roman would go into this with an open mind. I read a lot of parenting books during my pregnancy and they all suggested that new parents should try working on their our own “parental baggage” so we don’t repeat the same patterns. I feel like my relationship drastically improved with my own parents when my father and Aunt Juliette reconciled, so I’m just hoping to get similar results for Roman and his mom.
“My mother was an addict for most of her adult life, so you don’t think it’s odd that she lives in a city notorious for its vices? I’m telling you now. You should be prepared for the fact that you’re going to be deeply disappointed. She is probably living in a rinky-dink apartment, spending most of her money on her bad habits.”
“I think you’re the one who may be pleasantly surprised. When I spoke to her a few weeks ago she sounded good and is looking forward to seeing you again.”
“Uh-huh.”
As the driver continues past the city limits, Roman’s body stiffens as the view transforms.
“Are you sure we’re in the right neighborhood?” Roman leans forward to ask the driver.
“Whitney Ranch, right?”
“Yes,” I respond.
“Then we’re in the right place. Just another five minutes and we’ll be at your destination.”
We pull up to a relatively large Mediterranean home with an attached garage, pristine terra cotta roof, and an immaculately maintained succulent and stone garden in front. The house is drop-dead gorgeous and doesn’t look like a place where the woman I’ve heard about would live.
Now I’m the one nervous.
A relatively minute man with a round pot belly answers the door. He’s wearing a crisp white T-shirt and a pair of Bermuda shorts and pool slippers. This must be the man that Roman’s mother mentioned in her apology letter to him.
He looks friendly as we approach the door.
“You must be Roman. I’m Peter.”
He extends his hand forward. Roman pauses for a moment, but then finally accepts the gesture and shakes his hand as well.
“This is my fiancée, Elizabeth.”
“Pleased to meet you, Elizabeth. Come on in, you two. Frances is in the kitchen preparing a couple of things. Hope you’re hungry.”
Peter leads us through the foyer to a beautiful great room and then farther through the house into the prettiest, airiest kitchen I think I’ve ever seen. The walls are a pale peach and every small appliance has its rightful place on the countertops. There’s a wall of sliding glass doors that Peter walks us through that leads us to a second kitchen. This one is an impressive outdoor one complete with a built-in fireplace, stone grill, countertop with sink, and upscale wicker furniture.
I am duly impressed.
“They’re here, Frances.”
A tall woman with olive skin and a simple white sundress turns away from the counter holding a tomato and a paring knife. She’s stunning and Roman favors her in almost every way, especially the eyes. If this woman was an addict for most of her life it hasn’t seemed to have ravaged her beauty at all.
“Hi, Roman.”
“Hi.”
“You look… well.” Roman’s mother gives me a quick once-over. “And your Elizabeth is beautiful.”
Roman nods silently.
“Thank you,” I offer in return for the compliment.
“Did you leave the baby back in Philly?” she asks.
“Yes, he’s spending some time with my aunt.”
“And Joseph,” Roman adds.
His mother blinks her eyes a few times as if she’s stuck on how to respond. I think Roman’s comment about Joseph being in our son’s life may have hurt her. These are unchartered waters for us all and I imagine that his head is swimming with questions and feelings that he has been contemplating expressing to Frances for years but this isn’t really the time to say them though. This is supposed to be an initial meeting, so he isn’t speaking to his mother for the first time on our wedding day.
