Champagne Toast (15 page)

My mom, on the other hand, makes up for my lack of a connection with my dad.  I always knew I was lucky as a kid.  She
’
s supportive and kind.  She pushes me to do my best, but reminds me to be humble and to be conscious of others.  She
’
s the mom that all my buddies wanted to have.  She let us hang out at our house after school, playing pool in the basement, munching on snacks she made for us.  And when my friends would leave, she
’
d ask me about my day.  And the thing is, she wanted to know the answer.  She wanted to talk to me about the girls I thought were cute, or the teachers who were riding my ass.  She wanted to
know
me.

It
’
s because of her that I view the world in the way I do.  She
’
s helped to shape my personality, my relationships and my desire to succeed.  My dad always
expected
good grades from me and he
expected
me to do well in sports just as he had.  He
expected
a lot.  But, he didn
’
t teach me how to do anything.  My mom took the time.  She taught me long division and how to cook scrambled eggs when I was nine years old.  She taught me how to talk to girls and how to impress their moms when I was fourteen.  She
’
s taught me so many things over the years that have shaped who I
’
ve become.  I
’
m so lucky to have her.

Kate offers to help prepare dinner and my mom looks impressed.  As they walk towards the kitchen, I see her fidgeting with the ring on her finger and my heart sinks.  I study her as she glances down at the ring, spinning it slightly.  I wish I knew what she was thinking.  Is she apprehensive
to wear it?  Or am I just over-
thinking this?

An hour later, we
’
re sitting at the dinner table, listening to my mom
’
s favorite Christmas album as we dig into the traditional Christmas ham.

“
Mom, Kate, this is delicious,
”
I say between bites of mashed potatoes.  Kate smiles modestly as she takes a bite of a green bean.

“
So, Kate, what is it you
’
re studying?
”
my dad asks.  I
’
m actually impressed that he
’
s taking an interest.

“
I
’
m studying photography,
”
she says quietly.

“
She
’
s very talented,
”
I add.

“
I
’
d love to see your work sometime, honey,
”
my mom says.

“
I would love that, Jane,
”
Kate replies, blushing slightly.

“
Do you plan to have a business?
”
my father asks, pushing her further in a way that only he can.

“
I
’
m not sure yet, but yes, I think I might want to do that,
”
Kate says.
“
I love the idea of making a living doing what I love.
”

“
That
’
s the way to do it,
”
my dad says kindly and I
’
m shocked at just how much he seems to be warming up to her.
“
If you love what you do, it doesn
’
t feel like work.
”

“
Evan, honey.  Kate told me what she gave you for Christmas.  I wish I could
’
ve seen the look on your face when you opened that,
”
my mom says.

“
What
’
d you get, Evan?
”
my dad asks, looking confused.

“
She bought him a first edition of
Lord of the Flies
.  You remember how much he loved that book.  He still has the paperback we bought him when he was twelve
.”
My dad nods, but I know he hasn
’
t placed it yet.

“
I
’
ll never forget the book report you gave, honey,
”
my mom continues,
“
you prepared for days, wanting to do the book justice.  I was so proud of you.  Do you remember that, Charles?
”

“
Oh,
”
my dad looks perplexed, like he had no idea what my favorite book was, but he makes an effort, nodding his head. 
“
Mmm-hmm, yes, I do remember that
.”
It
’
s a lie, but I appreciate it nonetheless.
He cares the best he can.
  Kate looks confused at my dad
’
s reaction.  I shake my head as I give her a wink, trying to let her know that his reaction has nothing to do with her or her thoughtful gift.  It
’
s just him.

Mom asks Kate all kinds of questions about photography
,
and Kate seems to be so excited to talk about developing pictures and timing the best light outside.  Mom asks Kate if she
’
d consider taking some pictures of their 25th Wedding Anniversary and Kate says she
’
d be honored.  The fact that these two women are enjoying one another
’
s company so genuinely makes me so immensely happy.  But, then again, I knew they would.

As the evening comes to a close, Kate and I say our good-byes to my parents and prepare for the long drive home.  My mom gives Kate a tight hug, telling her how lovely it was to finally meet her.  Kate thanks Mom and Dad for their hospitality.

“
Take care, young lady.  Keep my son in line, would ya?
” m
y dad says to Kate.

He then pulls me in for a hug and says softly,
“
Hold onto this one, son.  She
’
s remarkable
.” 
Doing my best to hide the shock on my face, as we look at one another, I smile widely at him.

“
Thanks, Dad. I think so, too
.” 
He pats me on the back as I place my arm around Kate and guide her to the car.  Opening the door for her, she climbs in.  I look back to see my father standing at the door, giving me a thumbs up and I chuckle to myself, shaking my head.  That man is full of surprises.

“
So?
”
I ask a few minutes into our drive back to Evanston.

“
They
’
re wonderful,
”
Kate replies.

“
They loved you, ya know,
”
I tell her, hoping to squash any insecurity that might be peeking through.

“
God, I hope so,
”
Kate says, leaning her head against the window.  She begins to fidget with her ring once again, only this time she smiles as she looks down at the band.  My nerves calm as I watch her close her eyes.  Eventually, she drifts off to sleep as I drive us home.  Feeling content, I know this is exactly how I want to spend Christmas next year and the year after that and the year after that.  This is what happiness is to me.

Kate

March 18, 2009

I
’
m not sure what
’
s compelling me to do this, to drive forty minutes to Oak Park to visit my parents.  Maybe it
’
s Evan. Maybe I
’
m hoping that his persistence and his support of my dreams will help me to work up the courage to ask for theirs as well.

  We
’
ve been together for a year and a half now and they still haven
’
t met him.  I
’
m too afraid to let him see where I come from.  It
’
s hard enough that I don
’
t feel like I
’
m good enough for him, especially when we spend time with his family.  His parents are welcoming and kind, especially his mother.  I adore her.  I wish I felt the same way about my own mother.  But, for some reason, when I
’
m with them, I feel like this odd puzzle piece that simply doesn
’
t fit where it
’
s being pressed.  When it
’
s just us, Evan and I fit perfectly, but whenever we
’
re around others, I feel this incredible inadequacy that
’
s hard to explain.  He tries to tell me it
’
s ridiculous, that he
’
s proud to have me in his life.  No one
’
s ever said that before.  Even though I
’
m proud of the fact that I support myself completely
,
while taking classes part time, he
’
s finishing up his four years at Northwestern and interviewing with huge marketing firms downtown.  His world is about to change completely, and I
’
m terrified of what that
’
ll mean for me, for us.

He
’
s been pushing me to follow my dream of being a photographer. But, starting a business is difficult and I don
’
t have the start-up funds.  Could I wait and borrow the money from Evan when he starts working in marketing?  Yes.  Will I do that?  Absolutely not.
What if he regretted it down the line when I failed and inevitably ended up back at the bar, serving drinks and being Vince
’
s assistant?  Am I good at that job?  Yes, but I need more
, and
I want to be good enough for Evan.  After all this time together, I still don
’
t feel like I measure up.  But, maybe my parents can help me.

Evan and I are both on spring break, so I thought this would be a good time to sneak away on a Wednesday afternoon.  He
’
s working late at the bar tonight, and I have the day off.  We
’
re supposed to meet up after his shift, but I think I have plenty of time to get back without him thinking anything is up.  I know he really wants to meet my parents, but I
’
m not ready for that. I
’
ll stop at the store on the way back so he thinks I
’
ve been busy catching up on errands.

Pulling my Honda into my parents
’
driveway, I see the perfect spring decorations on the front porch.  Shamrocks and Easter eggs adorn the front door and stoop.  Angeline never misses an opportunity to be festive.  I ring the bell and wait for one of them to answer.  I learned a while ago that I
’
m no longer welcome to just walk in as if it
’
s my home.  That ended the day I moved into my apartment in Evanston.  It hasn
’
t been my
home
ever since.

My mother answers the door.  She looks perfect, as always.  Her hair is pinned up in a dainty bun.  She
’
s wearing a cashmere cardigan sweater and a pencil skirt.  She doesn
’
t look overjoyed to see me, but refrains from reacting in a negative way.

“
Kate, darling, what a pleasant surprise,
”
she says as she opens the door, gesturing for me to enter.

“
Hi, Mother, it
’
s nice to see you,
”
I reply, suddenly self-conscious and feeling the need to fix my hair, which I
’
m sure is disheveled.

“
Come in, darling.  Are you hungry?
”
she asks, leading me to the pristine kitchen.
The room is so clean it literally shines.  She
’
d be horrified to see my apartment.  I haven
’
t washed the countertops in over a week.

“
No, I
’
m fine, thank you,
”
I say, using my best manners.  I want this meeting to go smoothly.  Can
’
t risk offending her within the first five minutes of my arrival.

“
Well, come, sit down.  Your father is still at work, but should be home in a little while.
I know he
’
d love to see you
.” 
I nod, highly doubting that my father would give two shits that I came to his house.  But, I need to play along.  I need her to hear me out.