For ten minutes, it felt like old times.
“Mom, he proposed.”
I cried too.
For ten minutes, it felt like old times.
Then I asked the obvious question.
“So when do I finally meet this mysterious man?”
Lauren went quiet.
That was the first time I knew something was wrong.
“Soon.”
“Lauren.”
“I mean it.”
“What about his parents?”
“Mom, please.”
After the engagement, she pulled away faster.
That was the first time I knew something was wrong.
After the engagement, she pulled away faster.
Calls became texts.
Texts became short replies.
I invited her and Ethan to dinner twice.
“Lauren, are you avoiding something?”
Both times, she canceled.
The second time, I finally asked, “Lauren, are you avoiding something?”
“What would I be avoiding?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”
She sighed.
I told myself she was planning a wedding. I told myself she was stressed.
“Mom, I just need more space.”
Those words hurt more than I expected.
Still, I backed off.
I told myself she was planning a wedding. I told myself she was stressed. I told myself daughters grew up and built their own lives.
But backing off did not stop me from checking my phone whenever it buzzed. For weeks, I kept expecting the message that would say, Dinner Sunday? Ethan wants to meet you. It never came.
I hadn’t even seen a photograph of him.
But weeks before the wedding, I still hadn’t met Ethan.
I hadn’t met his parents.
