Frank walked through the front door calling, “Mom! You here?”
“Yes, darling, I’m here.” She strolled into the entryway, the white of her suit popping against the wood of the walls and floors.
“Hi, Mrs. Harrington,” I said, in what I hoped was a sophisticated way. One look from that woman took me from a confident and independent forty-year-old back to that scared eighteen-year-old I’d been.
I could feel anticipation welling in me as she leaned over to give me the smallest hug you can even imagine. How would we tell her? And when?
Then Frank just blurted out, “You’re not going to be the only Mrs. Harrington soon, Mom. Diana and I are getting married.”
He smiled and put his arm around me and looked as happy as could be. I felt myself go whiter than that suit or those giant pearls around her neck. Just decided to dive right in, I guess.
Mrs. Harrington turned and led us to the living room. Oh, that view. Water and sand in all directions. I wouldn’t hate living here when she kicked the—
Mrs. Harrington interrupted my thoughts. “That’s fine. I’ve made peace with this whole thing.”
I raised my eyebrows at Frank. That’s when my nerves finally began to subside.
“Mom, we’ve loved each other for twenty-two years. We don’t want to wait.”
“I’m too old to run,” I agreed. I winked at Frank. “Pretty soon I’ll be too fat too.”
She gasped in shock. “You aren’t saying…?”
Frank filled in: “Diana is carrying your grandchild.”
“Good Lord.” She put her hand on her forehead like she was going to keel over right there from the mere thought of it. She smirked at me. “So this is how you roped him into it? You got pregnant.”
Looking around her pretty living room with all her things, I kind of quit being scared of Mrs. Harrington. Instead, I felt right sorry for her. So I smiled and said, “Yup. That’s exactly right. I just knew that at forty I’d get pregnant, no sweat, and trap your son right into marriage. And it worked too. Lucky me!”
Frank squeezed my shoulder and looked at his mom. “Diana didn’t rope me into anything. I tracked her down, and I wasn’t letting her run away from me again. I’ve loved her for more than twenty years, and I’m too old not to live my life and be happy.”
She shook her head. “It keeps getting worse. Well, you need to go get married right now before people start talking.”
Frank and I both laughed.
“Mom,” he said, “with all due respect, I’m not sure that us being unwed is the most shocking part of this.” He added, “Just think, Mom. You can buy bootees and tiny pajamas.”
It softened her a touch, and I about fell plumb out of my chair when she said, “Well, I have always wanted a grandchild.” She looked at Frank. “Darling, could you please go in the kitchen and get us all some iced tea?”
Frank looked at me questioningly, and I nodded my approval. Frank had my back now. That was all I needed to know.
When he was gone, she said, “Diana, I’m going to be honest with you. You weren’t what I wanted for my son—”
“But—” I protested.
She put her hand up. “Let me finish.” She started again: “You weren’t what I wanted for my son back then. But you have been between us for all this time. I saw you in every one of Frank’s far-off glances, in every quiet moment.” Tears were forming in her eyes. “I thought he was better off without you, but the only thing pushing him away from you did was keep him from ever marrying, from ever having children, from ever having all the things I thought I was giving him by breaking you two up.”
I could feel the tears in my eyes now too. “Can I be honest with you?”
She nodded.
“I have spent twenty-two years feeling unworthy of your son, unworthy of his love. But, Mrs. Harrington, Frank and I have both realized that we aren’t whole without each other.”
A tear rolled down her cheek now, and she whispered. “After Frank Senior died, I realized that life is short. You two both deserve to be happy. I might not be perfect, Diana, but I will never stand in the way of my son’s joy again.”
I swear, she looked something right near happy. But it was only for a second. As Frank walked back in with a tray of iced teas, she sat up straight, composed herself, and said, “Have you two set a date? We need to start thinking about flowers—”
“We don’t need all that,” I interrupted. “I think we’re going to get married somewhere simple by ourselves.”
