I was nervous about calling my mom, even though the entire thing was made up. Still, hearing myself say the word ‘boyfriend’, out loud, to my mother, would make it real in some other way. I dialled the number and, as usual, she answered on the first ring. That’s the thing about my mom: even in an emergency, she always answered on the first ring, even if it’s to tell me she’s in the middle of a bridal emergency and will call back.
‘Pippa, I wasn’t expecting this. Is everything okay? It’s not Wednesday.’ I called my mom on a Wednesday and on Sunday evening, so it was unusual to be calling on a Tuesday.
‘Everything’s fine, Mom. I just have a question.’
‘What is it?’
‘The wedding?’
‘What about it?’
‘Well, you know how I only have one invite . . . I was wondering if I could have two?’
‘Why do you want two?’
‘Because I’m bringing someone!’ I forced the words out as quickly as possible, almost hoping she wouldn’t hear them but knowing that she would.
‘Is Jennifer visiting? I didn’t know she was coming out!’
‘No, Mom. Not a friend. A boyfriend.’
‘A what?’ My mom gasped so loudly that the sound delivered through the phone speaker hurt my ear.
‘Boyfriend,’ I repeated.
‘You have a boyfriend?’
‘I do.’ God, if she didn’t believe me, then no one else in my family would.
‘A real boyfriend?’
‘As opposed to what, Mom?’
‘I don’t know! People have these online relationships with AI avatars now. Some guy wanted to know if I could organize a wedding for him in the metaverse with his “girlfriend”.’
‘It’s a human boyfriend, Mom.’
‘Wow! That’s . . . that’s . . . wonderful.’ Her voice was an odd mix of notes and inflections – joy and shock, maybe? There was a brief pause, a moment of quiet before the inevitable storm of questions I knew was coming.
‘Who is he? How did you guys meet? How long have you been going out? What’s his name? What does he do?’
‘Slow down, Mom.’
‘Sorry, sorry. I’m just so excited.’
‘His name is Andrew.’
‘That’s a lovely name.’ My mom always read things into people’s names. I thought it utterly illogical, but she didn’t. ‘Strong name. But not too strong. Classic, but not boring, also very—’
‘He’s a pilot. We met at work.’ I cut her off before she decided to look up the meaning of the name, something she often did.
‘A pilot! How wonderful!’
‘I know how much you hate it when the seating arrangements at weddings change last minute and how much of a shuffle it takes and how much you complain about it, but—’
‘NO! Say no more. For you, for this, I will shuffle the bride and groom around if need be. So how long have you been dating?’
‘Two months,’ I said. ‘He came with me to my school reunion.’
