“Anna is a nurse,” I told her. “She works nights at a clinic near the hospital.”
In reality, there was no way to impress her.
My mother’s expression remained unchanged, though I noticed a brief flash of approval in her eyes.
“Smart, brave, I like that in a woman for you, Jonathan. Parents?”
“She has both parents. Mom’s a teacher and her dad is a doctor, but they live in another state.”
“Wonderful!” my mother exclaimed, clapping her hands once.
“She’s also a single mom. Her son, Aaron, is seven.”
The pause was almost impossible to notice. She raised her wine glass with flawless posture and took a small sip, as though she were reassessing everything. When she finally spoke, her voice was polite but distant.
“That’s a lot of responsibility for someone your age.”
“I guess, but she’s incredible,” I said, perhaps a little too quickly. “Anna is a wonderful mother. And Aaron… he’s a great kid. He told me I was his favorite grown-up last week.”
“She’s also a single mom. Her son, Aaron, is seven.”
“I’m sure she appreciates the help, Jonathan,” my mother replied, touching the corner of her mouth with her napkin. “A good man is hard to find.”
There was no warmth in her words and no indication that she wanted to hear more.
After that, we discussed other subjects—work, the weather, and a new art exhibition downtown—but she never mentioned Anna’s name. I didn’t push her.
Not yet.
***
A few weeks later, I brought them to meet her anyway. We chose a small coffee shop close to my apartment. Anna arrived ten minutes late, and with each passing minute, I could see my mother becoming more irritated.
But Anna hadn’t had a choice. Aaron’s sitter had canceled, so she had no option but to bring him with her.
When they finally arrived, Anna appeared flustered. Her hair was pulled into a loose bun, she had on jeans and a pale blouse, and one side of her collar had curled slightly. Aaron held tightly to her hand, his eyes moving toward the pastry counter as they entered.
