Page 45 of All In
Curiosity gets the best of me, and I want to know what’s in that bottle. We have made our way up to the step that leads to the front door. “Hey hon, do you mind if I take a swig of your water before we go in? I have cotton mouth.” I extend my hand out, willing her to give it to me, hoping I’m not drawing the wrong conclusion about my wife.
That she is a functioning alcoholic.
“What?! No way! Keep your germs to yourself, mister.” She chortles.
“So, I can kiss you and touch you, but I can’t drink after you?” I raise my eyebrow, confused yet understanding what’s going on.
She nudges me. “Stop stalling and walk inside to see your mom. I can’t wait to meet her!” She tucks the bottle away in her purse while also grabbing a pack of gum. I watch her as she unwraps a piece and pops it in her mouth, trying to mask the smell that I know is already there. “Here,” she passes me that pack, “this will help your cotton mouth.”
I grab a piece and give her a tight smile. “Thanks.” She thinks I don’t notice the small yet nervous side eye glance she gives me as she smooths down her shirt.
“Gosh, I’m so nervous,” she says, her voice trembling slightly as she lets out a small breath. I grab her hand and open the door to my past, knowing full well why she’s nervous.
And it’s not because she is meeting my mom.
After the awkward mom-meet-my-wife-of-two-years introduction, we settled in. Now Erica is taking a nap. Gearing up, more than likely, for our planned night out at Dexter’s meeting with Ricky and some friends. I’m sure she’s tired from the drive. Plus, the three glasses of wine she had at dinner.
Now, it’s just my mom and me sitting in the living room catching up. “Well, she’s lovely, Sam,” my mom says as she takes a sip of her hot tea, the steam rising from the cup as she drinks. I notice the hint of doubt in her tone and something else. Is it indifference?
“Thanks, Mom, she’s pretty amazing,” I reply, glancing up toward the steps as if I can see her through the walls. “So, you like her?” I inquire, praying that her reply will be what I need it to be. Our quick wedding didn’t sit well with my mom. To be fair, she didn’t talk to me for a week after, and we never discussed it. In hindsight, I regret not including her. It would have been better if we had waited a few more days for my mom to arrange her work schedule and join us in Georgia. But I knew that if I waited, even only a day or two, I would have backed out. And at the time, I needed to marry Erica. Sooner rather than later. Looking back, I see the selfishness in my decision.
“She’s different,” Mom replies while resting her cup down on the coffee table.
I know what she’s saying without her saying it. “Different from what? Or, should I say, who?”
“Oh, Sam, stop. You know what I mean. She showed up to meet her mother-in-law for the first time inthatoutfit. She’s not who I would have expected you to be attracted to, that’s all.”
I knew my very conservative mom would find an issue with what Erica wore to meet her for the first time. I tried to convince her at the hotel this morning to change. She decided on baggy cargo pants, a cropped skintight Rolling Stones tank top that showcases her belly button piercing, and combat boots. Her pixie cut is currently neon green at the tips, and her makeup is darker than usual.
“There is nothing wrong with what Erica is wearing.” I retort, feeling defensive. Mom suppresses a laugh. We sit in silence for a moment, then I continue. “Mom, before Cara and now Erica, Maria was the sole girl I had been romantically involved with or found myself genuinely interested in.” I know Maria is the ‘who’ my mom is referring to. And I get it. My mom loved Maria. Her decision to end it left my mom devastated, as she had adored her. But right now, I need to defend my wife. “And yes, Erica is not the type of woman I gravitate to, but that’s what makes her so appealing to me. It was time for me to branch out and live a whole new life. Erica gave me that.”
My mom releases a deep, exasperated sigh and, with a gentle touch, places her hand on my forearm. “Sam, honey, if you say she is a good person, then I believeyou. I trust your judgement, and I’m sure we will become friends.” Hearing her say this brings an immediate sense of relief, causing my tight shoulders to loosen and relax. My mom’s approval means everything.
She pats my arm before quickly retracting it to grab her tea again. “Do you plan on catching up with Maria while you’re back?”
“Mom, come on. Why would I do that?” Not that I haven’t fantasized about running into her while I’m home, but I’ll keep that thought to myself.
Mom shrugs. “I just thought maybe for old times’ sake. Friends catching up. I mean, it can’t hurt to say hi. You guys were a big part of each other’s lives.” She sips her tea, as if her suggestion is completely innocent.
No matter how hard I try, I can’t help but give in to my curiosity. “Why are you asking me this? Have you seen her? Have you talked to her?”
“Well,” she sits her cup down again and stands to retrieve her purse. She reaches in, pulls out a Post-it note, and hands it to me. “It turns out her mom and I are a part of the same book club, so we have been hanging out more lately. She gave me Maria’s email address. Her and I have been emailing on occasion and—”
“Wait, hold on.” I raise my hands in protest. “You have been communicating with my ex?” How is this happening? Somehow, I knew coming home would thrust Maria back into my orbit. Little did I know that it would be via my mom.
I stare down at the Post-it note still in my mom’s hand.
Against my better judgement, I take it and read. [email protected].
“I mean, only a few emails back and forth.” She pauses as I stare at the address, the meaning behind it loud and clear. The Point, our spot in Pittsburgh. 90, the year we started dating.
“I think you should email her and meet up when you’re here,” my mom says, pointing to the yellow square piece of paper.
“Mom, I’m married.” I bite back. “And so is she.”
“Geez, Sam, don’t say it like that. I don’t mean forthatreason.”Thank God.I didn’t think Mom meant it that way, but still. “Look, you never got closure. I know you still love her. You two need to hash some things out in order to move on.”
“I have moved on.”
