Surprisingly, he takes back control, picking up the teapot and saying, ‘I’d love tea. Can I repour for you, ladies?’
Sitting opposite him on the sofas, I give him a questioning look –now who’s the actor?
He’s suave and completely at ease. Not that he isn’t normally comfortable with me, but this is smoother than the usual Mike in a way I can’t quite put my finger on. It actually makes me think that if his brother loses his business partner and front man at Vanguard, Mike should offer to replace him. This afternoon, Mike could sell snow to a ski slope.
‘These flower designs are divine,’ he says, pondering the images on the table, paying attention to both my mom and Gail as he speaks. ‘The white selection is classic, chic; you have a good eye, Mrs Mitchell.’
Oh my God, I could vomit in my mouth, but my mom is lapping this up, clearly having forgotten the son-in-law she sodesperately wants in Andrew. It gives me a chance to just enjoy a cup of tea without the pressure of ruining all my mom’s dreams for my future, without wondering how long it will be before she starts reeling off all the things from my checklist that I’m failing to achieve.
But I should’ve known the peace would be short-lived because once Gail has finished going over the new, shorter flower arrangements for Saturday, and just Mom, Mike and I are left sitting on the sofas, it begins.
‘So, you’re a sportsman, Michael?’ She speaks with an edge of contempt now –my daughter was never supposed to be with the school jock.
I know before her next words that she won’t talk about Mike’s successes as a professional baseball player, that her focus will be elsewhere. But I don’t expect her to be so rude and direct as to say, ‘And what is it that you plan to do after baseball, Michael? You must be, what, thirty-two or three already?’
‘Mom!’ I try to protest but Mike simply leans back into the sofa, his cup and saucer in his hands, and says, ‘I’ll coach or do commentary, hopefully. Probably some public speaking. I’m not short of a business investment or two either, Mrs Mitchell.’
He plays the role of a disgustingly self-assured man just as well as my mom plays the role of Monster-in-Law. Though arguably, neither of them is having to try hard.
My pretend boyfriend and my mom are at loggerheads already. I check my watch – it took all of thirty-seven minutes to get to this point. Though, that’s thirty-seven minutes longer than I expected.
In Mike’s defense, it’s a rather impressive show. Maybe some of this Mike-ness should rub off on me, help me grow a backbone, but watching him also makes me appreciate the humbleside of his personality more. A side I think not many people get to see. One I feel lucky to know.
My mom can be a very headstrong woman but it seems even she’s losing the battle of wills as Mike provides an answer to each one of her demeaning questions. I know this because she turns her attention back to me.
‘We have a dress fitting tomorrow morning and your dad will be back from business in Vancouver for dinner. Then you and I have a luncheon on Thursday, so I’m afraid you’ll have to entertain yourself for a few hours each day, Michael. For a dedicated athlete like you, I’m sure you can find something to appease yourself in our home gym. Or you can take a hike.’ She smiles sweetly, as if the words didn’t have an alternative meaning. I don’t like this manner on her at all.
‘You see, I had planned a luncheon for our closest friends, since Abbey and Andrew were expected to be home, but I can hardly present Abbey and her new boyfriend to Victoria, can I? That’s Andrew’s mom. Consequently, I’ve had to make arrangements for it to be a female-only event.’
As if to emphasize her point and really drive home the level of inconvenience I’ve caused by bringing Mike here, Mom does what every actress in a scripted-TV series does at a similar juncture. She rises from her seat, needlessly brushing down her pants before she walks away, stomping her kitten-heels on the decking, her chin held high. ‘Dinner will be at eight p.m. Your dad will be back from business in Vancouver and he’s justdyingto meet you, Michael.’
In her wake, I take off my shades and roll my eyes for Mike’s benefit. ‘Now you’ve met my mom.’
Mike sips his tea, casually bringing one ankle up to rest on his opposite knee. ‘I think she likes me,’ he says, and all of my nerves from the morning spill over into a gargantuan laugh.
33
TED
After a bumpy ride from Abbey’s home, in a little powder blue Fiat 500, which gives me another flash of high-school Abbey, we’re waiting in line for a gondola to take a ride to the top of Sulphur Mountain.
‘I’ve got to admit, whilst I’m looking forward to this, I’m shocked you didn’t make us hike up the mountain, or are you all talk?’
She scowls playfully. ‘I’m not all talk; just you wait until Friday, then I’ll show you how I hike. But we don’t have time today, since the dress fitting took half the damn day, so you’ll have to make do with the view from inside a gondola.’
Timely, the next carriage in line comes to a stop and Abbey and I climb inside, together with another two people, each wearing impressively large cameras around their necks.
I must admit, after my nervousness this morning, my doubts on the phone to Mike about coming here at all, then the interesting family meets since we’ve been here, I’m pleased to be taking it easy for a couple of hours. So much so, I exchangepleasantries with the other tourists in the gondola but make a point of looking away quickly to avoid getting drawn in to further conversation.
With Abbey, though, I’ve got all the time in the world to listen to her telling me tales of growing up in Canada. From dog sleigh rides and black slopes, to kayaking and zip lining, her life here sounds almost dreamlike – the fresh air and open spaces. Completely at odds with a move to New York.
‘Tell me, then, if Canada is so amazing, why leave?’
We’re both sitting on the bench seat, angled toward Abbey’s window, immersed in the kind of backdrop an artist might sketch for a Disney animation – the kind that would make a child gasp with surprise. The view coming in to land in the airplane wasn’t a patch on this close-up of the Rockies. Yet, I’m able to take my attention away from the majesty of the view to see Abbey’s contemplation.
After moments of silence, she eventually shrugs, and says, ‘It is amazing and I’ve always liked being at home. Even though my mom drives me crazy at times, and my dad is often so busy that I could go days and weeks barely speaking to him, as a girl I still preferred being in my own home to being anywhere else.
‘But I thought I was in love with a guy and supposed to marry him. I thought I was supposed to move to be with Andrew, like we couldn’t have worked if I didn’t put in enough effort. It was on me to keep him. It sounds pathetic, doesn’t it? Particularly now, in light of what happened between us?’