Wife-in-Law

by Haywood Smith

  I almost swallowed my tongue, at a total loss for words. The idea of my mother with some old man … Wash my eyes out with soap. “But Mama, you’ve always been so strict about sex outside of marriage.”

  “Well, yes, I have,” she said, tapping her forefinger across her lips. “Seeing as how there is no degree of sin with God, I don’t imagine that what we’re doing is any worse than you not telling me about Greg and that hippie girl for months. A lie of omission is still a lie, and the Lord loves the truth and hates a lie.” She certainly didn’t sound repentant. “Claude and I will have to work this out with the Lord, but any way you slice it, it’s our business, not anybody else’s.”

  “Then why did you tell me?” I grumbled, still trying to assess what had happened.

  “Because I didn’t want to keep something that important from you.” Her expression begged for me to understand.

  “What am I supposed to do with it?”

  Her eyes shuttered with disappointment. “You might say, ‘Thanks for telling me, Mama. I hope you’re happy.’”

  She was right. Crazy as this all was, I really did want her to be happy. “Thanks for telling me, Mama. I hope you’re happy.”

  “That’s more like it.”

  Mama, Mama, Mama. “Well, don’t tell the girls,” I said. “About the sex part, I mean.” Nothing like setting a bad example.

  “Of course I won’t,” Mama snapped, “and you’d better not either.”

  “I won’t.”

  “All right then,” she said.

  This was insane. “I hope you’re using protection,” I couldn’t resist saying.

  Mama stiffened. “Oh, please. Claude’s the cleanest man I ever met, and neither one of us was ever with anybody but who we married.” She pulled a spotless handkerchief from her clutch and dabbed at her neck. “I can’t think of any STD with an incubation period of fifty years.”

  At least they’d discussed the subject. “He may have told you he wasn’t with anybody else, but men lie about these things, you know. What if he’s lying?”

  “He’s not.”

  I couldn’t believe we were having this conversation. “I still think you ought to have safe sex.”

  “Safe sex is a myth, and you know it,” Mama said. “Condoms fail all the time. How do you think your father and I got you?”

  “Mama!”

  She patted my arm. “Now don’t get all in a huff. I was thrilled.”

  Typically, she’d diverted the conversation from what we needed to address. “Mama, it’s crazy not to use protection these days. Please promise me you will.”

  She bristled. “The way we’re doing it is safe enough to suit me, end of story.” She tucked her clutch under her elbow. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my cab is waiting.”

  “Let it wait,” I told her with a warning forefinger. “You’re not going anywhere till you apologize to Kat and her guests.”

  Mama glared at me, her mouth a flat line. “You can’t make me.”

  Aaargh! My eyes narrowed. “If you don’t apologize, I’ll have you committed.”

  Mama gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

  “Oh, yes I would.” Would I?

  Her façade broke. “I don’t have time to go to the hospital. Claude’s taking me to Branson on Sunday. Why do you think I’ve been taking my meds and working my way out of that house?”

  For a trip to Branson, with Claude? My lips rolled inward as I extended my palms, fingers clawed, in frustration. “You’re apologizing to Kat if I have to drag you!”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Oblivious to my bed-head and wrinkled clothes, I grabbed Mama by the elbow and opened the door, then pushed her out ahead of me. “You are going to apologize, or I will never speak to you again. I mean it, Mama.”

  She jerked loose. “All right. All right. Have it your way.”

  Across the street, guests huddled and looked our way.

  “I’ll apologize,” she repeated. “I already told them you had no idea I was coming.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “Well, tell them again.”

  Mama marched down the driveway past my neatly manicured lawn, then headed for Kat’s. But when she passed the waiting cab, she shot back on the far side and jumped in, then told him, “Gun it!”

  I was halfway down the driveway, screaming, “Come back here!” when they rocketed past and took the corner on two wheels.

  “Mama!” Furious, I stomped my bare foot on the concrete so hard I almost sprained my ankle, then limped back to the house.

  Emma rushed over and came inside. “Mama, are you okay?”

  “Your grandmother lied to me. She said she was going to apologize.”

  Emma covered her mouth to hide the smile that threatened to escape. “Nana’s a wildwoman. What happened?”

  “She’s a wildwoman, all right.” I headed for some hair of the dog that bit me and some Advil. “The good news is, she’s finally taking her meds.”

  “I knew something must have happened.” Emma grabbed a plate and served herself a slab of cake. “Is that why she got so aggressive?”

  “She’s always been aggressive,” I said. “The meds just got her out of the house.” I waved a fresh wineglass Emma’s way. “Drink? I think this definitely calls for a drink.”

  “Me too.” She took a bite of cake and savored it with joy. “Mmmm. And some carbs.”

  I poured the wine, then put the glasses on the table and sat.

  “Want some cake?” Emma asked.

  “Nooo,” I told her, queasy at the prospect.

  Emma lifted her wine for a toast. “Helluva day.”

  I tapped my glass to hers. “Amen, sister.”

  I exhaled heavily, then took a long, cool sip of sweetness. Hair of the dog.

  “I met a really nice guy at the wedding,” Emma told me. “Bill Carlsson. He’s some computer whiz at Tech. Made a million before he was twenty-five. And he’s cute.”

  I did my best to focus on what she was saying, but my mind kept spinning about Mama and Claude, and how she’d ruined Kat’s wedding. “That’s nice, sweetie.”

  “Bill said he’s coming to Fairbanks to supervise some kind of massive research installation.”

  Going with Claude to Branson. “That’s nice.”

  “I told him he could stay with me,” she said with a slight frown.

  “Um-hmm.” Greg would never believe I hadn’t put Mama up to what she did. Still, it sure would have been great to see the look on his face when she showed up. I smiled, just thinking about it.

  “I told Bill we could have nonstop sex for a week, then run naked down Main Street.”

  Finally, I came to and realized what Emma had been saying. “You said what?”

  “At last. You were ignoring me,” Emma scolded.

  “Sorry. I was thinking about what your grandmother did. It’s probably all over Sandy Springs by now.” I sighed. “Nobody will ever believe I didn’t have anything to do with it. Especially your daddy.”

  “Actually, it was pretty rich.” Emma let out a wry chuckle. “None of us recognized her till she started in on Kat and said who she was. Daddy looked like she was a ghost, for real. Then Nana started insulting Kat and Daddy, calling them every name in the book. We were all so shocked, nobody moved. But when Nana started pulling the flowers out of Kat’s hair, that was the last straw. Zach and I dragged her away before she hurt anybody. That’s when we brought her over here. Zach had to carry her, kicking and screaming, till he set her down inside and split.”

  Pulling flowers out of Kat’s hair? Mama was lucky Kat didn’t call the police. But then again, Kat owed me one on that score.

  “Has Nana gotten Alzheimer’s?” Emma asked.

  “Could be,” I told Emma honestly. “She’s doing a lot of things she hasn’t done.” Still, just because somebody was old didn’t mean they couldn’t plain old act up without being crazy.

  Mama had found herself a man—or vice versa—somebody she c
ared about enough to break out of the prison she’d made for herself. I should be happy.

  If only she hadn’t used her new freedom to humiliate us all.

  I patted Emma’s hand. “Shouldn’t you be getting back to that cute boy at the reception?”

  “His name is Bill.” Emma blushed, then finished her cake. “Maybe not. I hate to leave you here alone.”

  I laughed, standing. “Don’t worry about me. Who knows? Mama might drop by later for a visit.” If she wasn’t busy fornicating with Claude.

  “You’re sure you’re okay?”

  No, but I wasn’t about to ruin Emma’s chance to bring something good from this day’s insanity. “I am fine. I’m going to have another glass of wine, then go to sleep. We’ll deal with Mama tomorrow.”

  “I’m not sure she can be dealt with,” Emma said, then gave me a peck.

  “Oh, I think I know somebody who can handle her.” Maybe Claude would cooperate if I offered him some homemade devil’s food cake with seven-minute icing.

  Nineteen

  The day after my best friend married my husband

  The morning after Mama’s surprise apparition at the wedding, my landline and cell phone started ringing off the hook and didn’t stop. (The more subtle gossipmongers sent me e-mails with lunch invitations. Where were they yesterday, was what I wanted to know.) The grapevine was working at light speed.

  All the women who’d ever set eyes on me in Sandy Springs called to get the gory details, pretending they just wanted “to catch up.” A few who knew me fairly well even had the nerve to ask straight-out about what happened. To those, I explained that I hadn’t seen anything personally, and that my mother was “confused” and hadn’t given me any warning she planned to go to the wedding.

  I could tell right away that they didn’t believe me. Worse, they were clearly annoyed that I wouldn’t dish the dirt.

  Not wanting to burn any bridges now that I was on my own, I mustered up a cheeriness I didn’t feel and told the callers I had to leave for a dentist’s appointment (I forgot it was Sunday), but suggested we do lunch sometime soon. Predictably, they blew me off.

  But the calls kept coming, so by eleven that morning, I finally gave up and shut off or unplugged every method of communication in my house.

  Oddly, it was the lack of noise that brought a fuzzy Emma from her old room. Smeared mascara ringed her eyes like a raccoon, and her new haircut stuck out every which way as she shuffled into the kitchen and wrapped me in a silent hug that reminded me how much I’d missed human touch since she’d moved away.

  Holding on to each other, we gently swayed till she let out a huge yawn, then arched her back and pulled away. “Coffee,” she croaked with morning-after breath.

  I poured her a mug. “Have fun last night?”

  She brightened, still squinting against the morning light that flooded in from the sunroom. “Oh, yes.”

  I handed her the coffee. “The rich, cute, smart nerd from the wedding?”

  Emma curled up in her chair, heels on the seat, with a secret smile. “Not a nerd, as it turns out. A total stud. Rocked my world.”

  I made a face. “Uh-oh. Maybe I don’t need to hear about this.” Mama’s escapades had set me back far enough.

  “Down, girl,” Emma said. “He’s a perfect gentleman. Didn’t even try to kiss me till we got to the door at two.”

  While her mother lay in a drunken stupor.

  “But when he kissed me, it was …” She blushed, her eyes losing focus. “Whew … incredible.” Her features eased in wonder. “He’s so sweet and old-fashioned. And intelligent. And funny. And hot.” She took another sip of her coffee. “I know better than to believe in love at first kiss, but last night made me understand why some people have sex on the first date.”

  I closed my eyes, stuck my fingers in my ears, and started chanting, “Na, na, na, na, na, na, na!”

  Emma laughed and pulled my finger from one ear. “Oh, quit that. We just kissed. And kissed.” She went dreamy. “And kissed.”

  I’d never seen her act this way about anybody. “And?”

  “And …” She grinned. “Do we have any more whole wheat bagels and strawberry cream cheese?”

  “You know we do. Don’t change the subject.” I got up to make them for her. “Come on. Let’s have it.”

  She exhaled briefly, then said, “Well, actually, he proposed. And proposed. And proposed.”

  I stopped in mid-schmear. “You’re kidding, right?”

  Emma shook her head again. “Nope. And I don’t think he was kidding either.” She frowned. “At least, he said he was serious.” Her mouth went askew. “Of course, we’d both had a few.”

  Seeing the concern on my face, she added, “He had a limo, with a driver, so don’t get upset. The man’s way too smart to drink and drive.”

  “Good.” I handed her the bagels and sat beside her with my coffee. “So, what now?”

  She shook her head again with that same dazed, can-this-be-real expression. “I don’t know. We’ll see what happens in the harsh light of day.”

  A chattering buzz erupted in the huge, slouchy purse she’d dropped by the door. Emma leaped five feet to retrieve it before it quit ringing. “Hello?”

  In an instant, she went radiant, crazy hair and smeared mascara and all. “Hi.” She collapsed back into her chair, pulling her knee to her chest.

  “I don’t know.” Emma cocked her head. “I’ll have to ask my mother.” She tucked the cell phone against her shoulder for an amazed, “Bill wants to know if I’ll marry him.”

  I almost choked on my coffee, but I managed to get it down. “Tell him yes,” I said, which seriously took her aback, till I added, “In two years, and not a day sooner.”

  Emma grinned. “Mama says it’s okay,” she told Bill, “but not for two years.”

  She laughed at his response, then settled to listen with a look of pure adoration. “Well, okay, then,” she finally said. “How about twelve?” She nodded. “Okay. See you soon. Bye.”

  She pushed the disconnect button, staring briefly at the screen before she lifted her eyes to me in amazement. “Well, looks like we have a date.”

  “The Cheesecake Factory is a great place for a second date,” I said. “Lots of noise and energy. And sugar.”

  “No, I mean a wedding date,” Emma corrected. “I am officially engaged, and the wedding’s two years from today.”

  Back up, Jack. “But you two just met each other.” This time, my objections were sincere. “You live in Alaska. What about all those hunky men up there? What about being special up there? And your job?”

  She rolled her lips inward and shrugged. “Suddenly, all those men don’t look so good. And Bill thinks I’m special right here.”

  Wait a minute. “Honey, I was only kidding about accepting his proposal.”

  Emma smiled. “Well, I wasn’t. This could work.”

  Just when I thought things couldn’t get any crazier.

  “Sweetie, please promise me you won’t do anything till you two really get to know each other.” Like Mama had promised to apologize? “You just met this man. For all you know, he could have been brought up by ax murderers. Family is very important, you know.”

  “Ah, family.” There was that mischievous look again. “You mean, like my agoraphobic hoarder of a grandmother?” Emma said calmly. “Who went totally Jerry Springer at my father’s wedding to your best friend, then had to be dragged away, kicking and screaming?”

  Ouch.

  “Bill’s got a fabulous family,” Emma went on. “His father’s a minister, and his mother’s a teacher, and he has two sisters and a brother—all decent, productive people.” She patted my arm. “So you don’t have to worry on that account.”

  I sank to a chair. “I think I need some water.”

  Emma got me a cold spring water from the fridge, then set it in front of me and hugged me from behind. “Don’t worry, Mama,” she said beside my ear. “I’m a big girl. I can take
care of myself. If things don’t work out between Bill and me, then so be it. But at least I was willing to give it a chance.” She kissed the top of my head and let go. “I think I’ll stick around for a few weeks, if that’s okay with you.”

  “I’d love that, but your job—”

  “I have tons of vacation built up,” Emma mused. “Think I’ll take a month or so. Who knows? Maybe Bill really is Mr. Right.”

  Whistling, she retreated to get ready for her date.

  Alone in the kitchen, I suddenly felt as if everybody in the world was paired up but me. Kat had my ex-husband, may God have mercy on her soul. Amelia had Sonny. Mama had Claude. And now Emma had Bill.

  For the first time in a long time, I felt deeply and grievously lonely.

  Not in the spiritual sense. I had a strong, active Christian faith. But God couldn’t put His arms around me and shelter me with warmth when my mother publicly humiliated the whole family. And God couldn’t stroke my hair and tell me it was going to be all right when I woke from a bad dream, or found myself living one for real.

  Then I scolded myself for sitting on the pity pot.

  I was whole and healthy and had a wonderful home and two healthy, loving daughters and grandchildren, and enough alimony to live comfortably. I had work I loved that helped other people achieve their best. So I was blessed beyond ninety-nine and ninetenths of the world.

  Even when that blessing included Greg, right across the street, and Mama shagging somebody named Claude who was probably only looking for some hot food and an easy lay. And Emma was engaged to a man she just met yesterday.

  Hallelujah, amen.

  What next?

  Twenty

  Trying to move on with my life while living across the street from my ex and my wife-in-law was like trying to climb out of a pit with my feet stuck in bowling balls. I wanted to lay the past to rest, truly I did. But how could I, when every time I saw Greg’s car parked in Kat’s driveway, I was reminded that he had come between me and my best friend?

  Lord knows what lies he’d told Kat to make her stop speaking to me. Probably that I’d put Mama up to crashing their wedding, which Kat would have known wasn’t true, had she been in her right mind.