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He laughed. “Mom, no! Don’t be ridiculous. A man my age can have a secret.”
Her scowl morphed into a grimace. “Just tell me it’s not Samantha.”
Whoops. “Now why would you think that?”
“Because you won’t tell me. And because I know you’re still hung up on her.”
“I’m not hung up on her!”
“Yes, you are. A mother knows these things.”
“And I’m not telling you because I don’t want to hear any flak if this doesn’t go well. Now are you going to give me advice or not?”
She shook her head resolutely. “Not unless you promise me it’s not Samantha.”
He pressed his lips together.
“I knew it!” she shrieked. Then immediately her expression softened, and she reached across the table and laid a soft hand on top of his. “Brent, no. I know you loved her, and I know you have a heart of gold, but it didn’t work then, and it won’t work now. Please remember how much she hurt you.”
This was true. Sammyhadhurt him, but his mother hadn’t liked her from the get-go. “When Sammy and I started dating, you didn’t like her. Why was that?” She’d probably told him, but he couldn’t remember.
She sighed. “She was a party girl. Those girls are always loose.”
He straightened in his chair. “Mom, Sammy wasneverlike that.”
She didn’t believe him.
“I’m serious, Mom. Give me some credit. I’m not an idiot. I would have known if she cheated on me, and she didn’t. And from everything I’ve heard, she hasn’t even dated anyone since the divorce.” Neither had he. In lots of ways, it was as if they hadn’t ever broken up.
“Whatever. She’s married to the bottle then.”
Brent really wished he hadn’t been so open about their marriage troubles back then. He’d wanted his family’s sympathy, but now it was kicking him in the butt.
“Either way, she was a terrible wife, and what is the point of trying toromanceher if she isn’t wife material?” She said the wordromancewith a heavy dose of sarcasm.
“Things have changed.”
“What’s changed?” she snapped.
Brent’s mother knew that he’d started going to church. He’d tried to tell her why, but she didn’t want to hear about it. And right now, he was tired of arguing with her, and didn’t want to make her even angrier, so he didn’t want to bring God into the conversation. “I’m more mature. So is she. Look, I’m not saying that I’m going to marry her again. I just ... I want to see what happens. But I don’t know how to tell her that I care. I can’t just call her up and say, hey remember how cruel I was at the end? How I divorced you and then hired a lawyer to make sure you wouldn’t get the house? Well, now I’ve decided I like you again.” Ouch. Saying the words aloud made the whole thing even more ridiculous.
“Write her a love poem,” she said, and he couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic again.
“Yeah, right. I can barely write a customer email.”
“Use Shakespeare then.”
The waiter approached, and she lowered her voice. “I’ll let you buy me breakfast if we can stop talking about this.”
“Fine, Mom.” He picked up his menu. “You win. What are you going to have?”
