“Wait a minute now,” Peter interjects uncomfortably.
“No, Peter. It’s fine,” his mom says. “Roman, I spent the money to get high. I spent any money we had to get high. Is that the answer you were looking for?”
“And that’s why I couldn’t have a dog like this one?”
“Yes.”
“Or a hot dinner?”
“Roman.”
Okay, now I’m thinking I need to stop this conversation before it gets nasty.
“And now you have all ofthis?” He walks the length of their yard with his arms fully extended to show his point. “This shit is impressive, Ma.”
I can definitely see his point. Roman had a tough childhood where for the longest time he felt alone and as if he wasn’t wanted. Many of the boys in his old neighborhood might have had absentee fathers, but most of them at least had their mothers. He didn’t. She was a ghost of herself and not really present. So that’s probably a scar he will carry with him for a very long time, and personally, I believe Roman’s mother needs to accept her responsibility for her part in that. A letter probably wasn’t the best way to start.
“Real estate is not as expensive here as it is where you’re from. Don’t be fooled by what you see here. We’re not rolling in it. We’re just living life like regular folks,” Peter says, although I don’t think he’s really helping.
“Not the right answer,” Roman responds. “Sounds like a bunch of bullshit to me.”
Frances washes her hands and wipes them with a tea towel. She walks over and stands in front of Roman, staring him square in the eyes. Two sets of identical obsidian pupils taking inventory of each other. Two people hurting. Two people struggling to work through a painful past.
“I said it in the letter, but maybe I should have waited until I could have said it in person. I see now that it wasn’t the right approach. I apologize to you, Roman. I was barely human when I was an addict. Drugs were all I cared about. I didn’t deserve you and I wasn’t fit to raise you, but by the miracle of God you came to be a good man just the same. And now, by his grace, you’re getting married to the mother of your son and the love of your life. I’m so grateful for the man you’ve become.”
She’s working the hell out of her apology, I’ll give her that. But she’s going to have to continually work at it, because Roman wants assurances that she has truly changed her life before he allows her into ours, and I’m in full agreement with that. I’m under no grand illusions that we can tie this up in a nice tidy bow by the end of tonight. This is just the beginning.
I take full responsibility for the crummy idea of us getting married in Vegas and having her attend as our special guest, but that was me not thinking things through. A wedding should be considered and planned seriously, and only for the benefit of the couple saying the vows. It’s not a tool for me to use to mend fences. It’s not just some random date on the calendar where I’m going to dress up in a pretty gown and party with my friends and family. It’s the day I will promise Roman in front of everyone who has ever meant anything to us that I will love him until our last dying breath.
That is some serious shit.
Which is why we reworked our bet. He agreed to fly here for a visit with Frances as long as I set a date for a wedding back home.
I did.
“I am sorry for the pain I must have caused you. You can’t imagine all the regrets I carry with me, son,” she continues. “There were days when I almost thought the damage I caused in my past was too much to bear, but that’s when this wonderful man here saw something worth saving in me and has been by my side ever since.”
“We can understand that sort of devotion. That’s exactly how I feel about your son. He’s been there for me at my lowest points but has only seen the best in me. Sometimes I have to pinch myself because of how lucky I was to have met him again.”
Roman walks over and embraces me from behind, kissing the curve at the back of my neck.
“Damn lucky,” he agrees.
He holds me close as he musters the courage to do what he never thought he could.
“I appreciate the apology, Ma.”
“Thanks for flying all the way out here to hear it.”
We all sit at the beautifully set table and dig into Frances’s yummy looking taco salad and steak.
“Did you say that you were lucky to have metagain?” Peter asks through a mouth full of food. “How do you two know each other? Frances didn’t tell me much about how you met.”
The both of us glance at each other and smile as we reply simultaneously.
“It’s a long story.”
23
