“Are you having a good time?” It’d be nice to hear something akin to congratulations or some such thing but I know better. For my mother, it’s all about her.
“Good enough.” She sniffs. “Not many people my age.”
I know she means single men her age but I asked Blake to have her seated at a table of other single women. I didn’t need her making a scene at our wedding.
“Was your hotel okay?” I put her up in the Waldorf Astoria and bought her a few outfits so she would fit in and again, no thanks for those things, either.
“It’s very nice, if you like that sort of thing.”
I count to ten, put on a smile, and kiss her cheek. “Well, I need to make the rounds. If you like, we can have lunch before your flight back.”
“I thought maybe I’d stay in New York for a while.”
“We’ll talk about it, tomorrow.” Hell no. She could go through thousands of dollars in an instant or end up in Harlem. I need her safely back in Arizona and make a mental note to ask Slate to see to it for me.
Thankfully, the ladies who were dancing come back to sit with my mother so I can move on. Seeing my discomfort, Blakely joins me, and says to my mother. “I need to steal him away for a bit. We’ll be back.”
Once we’re out of earshot she asks, “You okay?”
“Some things never change.”
“You can’t pick your family, honey.”
“Oh, but I can. I picked you, didn’t I?” I pull her into a kiss and when people see, they clang their spoons on their glasses so I take it deeper.
My wife is thoroughly blushing when I let go, leaving my past where it belongs, behind me.
