Installment Thirty-Five

"As Deborah's only grandparent, I will assume all financial responsibility for a wedding," my ex-mother-in-law pronounced when I called. "It's that simple, darling, so stop fretting."

Edna was speaking to me on her smart phone, since she was out shopping and running errands.

Is this woman really in her 80s? She definitely puts this fifty-something, catatonic, almost mother-in-law-to-be to shame!

"Oh Edna, I wish it were just about money." Did I really say that?

But it was true. Money, a subject that has consumed me these many months of re-settling and trying to get on with the rest of my life, for once was not at the top of my mind. Juggling too many people in this unfolding drama was taking up every available synapse in my brain.

As comforting as Edna's voice had been for me, she did sign off with ominous words:

"You are going to have to speak to my son, Joelly, and the sooner the better." She was right, of course, but I absolutely loved the way even his own mother could barely spit out his name.

"And let me know every word he says. Call me when the deed is done."

Indeed.

I waited until a reasonable hour in Beijing to call Martin at his office. I figured he may not shout or scream as much if there was an audience nearby.

"Who is this guy?" were the first words out of his mouth when I told him the news. "And how long have you known about their relationship and not told me?" Of course, go on the offensive immediately, asshole. Some things never change.

I struggled to remain calm. "In answer to your second question, I haven't known very long. As for the first, Sean O'Sullivan is an Irish diplomat.”

I waited for the inevitable.

"This runs in the family, eh Joelly?”

Why is it that when we are in the throes of a new love affair--and certainly one that leads to a marriage--we feel this urge to spill our guts out about former relationships, only to have them thrown back at us thirty years later? No way could I tell TBM he has no idea of the real story he has yet to hear.

Or perhaps not, I thought suddenly, feeling the first inkling of optimism that a total nightmare may not await me.

Since Gabe left his kids in his grief, and since Sean changed his name, why hadn't I considered that he may stay underground, even for his son's wedding? It would fit the scenario of abandonment. I felt myself breathing almost normally for the first time since I received the 'good news'.

"Are you listening to me Joelly? Hello?"

"Sorry, Martin, what were you saying?"

"I was asking you how my mother fits into all of this. You mentioned you spoke to her--before me, I might add. You two were always thick as thieves."

"Thieves? That's a good one, Martin, coming from you."

Dead silence ensued, so I jumped in:

"Tell you what," my mind raced ahead. "I’m going to hang up now and ask Deborah to phone you directly. Be nice, okay? And after you speak to your daughter, well...we will figure something out.”

"Don’t hang up Joelly!"

Click.