"Can I come in?"
There was a pause, and for a second I thought she'd say no. Then the door swung open. She looked at me briefly and then walked away, dropping onto the edge of the bed.
I handed her the granola.
"I'm upset. You can't bribe me with your delicious granola, Mom." She poured some into her hand.
"I know. I didn't come in here to bribe you. I came to talk."
I took back the jar and sat across from her in the rolling chair by her desk. "I know tonight didn't go as planned, and I apologize for my part in ruining the evening. In my defense, I didn't appreciate Manuel's father insinuating you weren't good enough for his son."
"I'm sure he didn't appreciate you insinuating his son only got his job because of his father. Manuel is really smart, Mom. He had to go through three rounds of interviews and then waited several weeks in limbo, not knowing if he'd gotten the position. His biggest concern was screwing up and embarrassing his father after he had stuck his neck out for him. Yes, Mr. Harris got Manuel's foot in the door, but he earned his position because he knows his stuff."
"I'm sure he does," I said.
We both ate some granola.
"Manuel isn't like his dad," Blossom said in a low voice.
I was horrified to see tears shimmering in her eyes. "My love..."
"I know you want to protect me, but you don't have to protect me from Manuel. He's not going to hurt me. He loves me as much as I love him, and I don't want to lose him, Mom." Her voice thickened.
I didn't know what to say.
"Would you talk to Mr. Harris?" Blossom asked tentatively.
"Talk to him? About what?"
"Tell him you didn't mean what you said tonight."
"You want me to lie?"
"Mom."
I pressed my fingers to my temple. "Slow down for a minute, and let me think."
My daughter's eyes, so much like mine, filled with hope. I had meant what I said, and now she wanted me to retract my words. My insides tightened, rejecting what she wanted me todo. Why couldn't Jamison retract his words? Or why couldn't we agree to disagree?
I was at the age where I didn't feel the need to mince words, and I certainly didn't want to pretend what I said wasn't true. I had learned over the years that honesty and being direct was best.
"I, uh . . ." I hesitated.
"Please. I'm begging you." Her eyes pleaded with me.
I didn't really care what Jamison Harris thought, but I loved my daughter more than life, and her opinion mattered to me. Her happiness mattered to me, and right now she wasn't happy.
"Okay, I'll talk to him, but after the weekend. We both need time to calm down. I'll reach out to him next week, but I'm not making any promises because our conversation might not go well."
"Thank you," Blossom said in a relieved voice.
She seemed genuinely distraught that Jamison would convince his son not to marry her. Clearly, my daughter was madly in love with this young man, but did he love her? Would he be careful with my baby's heart?
"Three months, huh?"
She nodded, a smile breaking out on her face.
"Doesn't give us much time to plan a wedding," I said.
