“Technically,” I say, “we didn’t elope. It was a planned wedding. Just… very fast.”
“Oh, Scottie.” Her voice drops, shifting into the soft disappointment tone that always guts me. “Why didn’t you tell us? Why wasn’t I there? I would have helped. I would have—”
“It wasn’t that kind of wedding,” I say gently. “Her visa situation made everything time-sensitive. We didn’t want to risk her getting stuck in Russia if anything fell through.”
“Russia? What… who is she? Don’t tell me she’s a mail-order bride… Scottie.”
Mail order bride. Does my mother really think my game is so bad that I would have to pay to get a woman to be willing to marry me? That idea that she might believe that stings a little.“No, she’s not. She’s the sister of a player on the team. I’ve known him a long time, and she and I started dating…” I start the lie, knowing this is going to be the hardest part. Lying to my mother doesn’t come easy to me. She’s too sweet to lie to. “And when I found out that her visa was almost up, we decided to get married. I just knew I had to marry her.”
That last part is true at least. I had to marry her… or else her father would drag her back to Russia. The fewer lies, the less I have to keep track of.
Silence swells through the line.
“You decided to get married so she wouldn’t have to go back to Russia?” she asks as if trying to wrap her head around it.
“She’s a ballerina, and she’s damn good. She’s been training in the US since she was fourteen. She went to Juilliard… she’s been here on a work visa. Things happened fast between us—I can’t explain how I feel about her, but I knew I had no choice. I couldn’t let her go back.”
Again… none of that is a lie. Luka’s bet left me with no choice, she is a damn good ballerina, and I couldn’t in good conscience let her go back and marry someone her father is forcing on her. I’m not proud of how I’m spinning it, but I have to.
More cars swoosh by, people honking, the usual street sounds of Seattle, but my world just narrowed.
“I care about her,” I say honestly. “She’s… she’s strong. And smart. And braver than she should have to be. And funny in a very subtle way that sneaks up on you. And when she dances, it’s like—”
Nope… abort mission. Backpedal as fast as you can. This is getting too deep.
“I had no idea you were even seeing anyone. And now you’re married, and I wasn’t there…”
“I know. I’m sorry. I promise it was a last-minute thing. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Heat shoots up my neck. I didn't mean to hurt my mother. That’s not what this was about.
“I hear her take a long breath, and then she clears her throat. “You know… I don’t believe I ever told you this story, but do you know how your father and I got married?” she asks.
I think for a second. I know they met in college, but I don’t think I ever heard anything more than that, probably because I never asked.
“No… I don’t.”
She clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth as if I should settle in for a long story. “Well, we met when we were both in college. We went to the University of Las Vegas. I met him on the first day as I was trying to find my dorm. I got the building wrong and wandered up to his dorm room. I knocked, and he opened the door. We both laughed about it, and then he helped me find my building. It turned out that he had the same dorm number as me, two buildings away. The next day, I saw him in my first class, then my second… it also turned out that our schedules were almost the same.”
“And you had never met before.” Now part of the story is coming together. I do remember parts of this.
“Yep. So finally he came to sit next to me in our third class. As it happened, he grew up in one town over our entire lives. We had barely been missing each other all this time. He was the quarterback for our rival team, and I was a cheerleader for the other. We had passed by each other probably a dozen times in our lives but had never met.”
“That’s right… I think some of this is coming together.”
“He asked me on a date a few days later, and it went so well that he teased me about getting married by Elvis, and I said yes. We were married after a week of knowing each other.”
“And Grandma was furious when she found out.” That was always the part of the story I remembered.
“She was. I had married a boy that I had known for a week, and we hadn’t given either set of parents a chance to be there. We did make it up to them later and had a big wedding.”
“I’m not sure if that’s going to happen for us, Ma, but I’ll talk to her about it,” I say, hoping that maybe she’s about to let me off the hook. “So you’re not mad?”
“I’m disappointed I missed my first son’s wedding… yes,” she fires back quickly. “But I can’t throw stones. Your father and I believed that fate had been trying to get us together for years, and we just didn’t have our eyes open. If you love this woman, then I understand why you couldn’t let her leave.”
“So I have your blessing?” I ask.
I can hear the hesitation in her voice. “Bring her to your cousin's wedding so I can meet my new daughter-in-law, and I might forgive you.”
