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I gape, then snap my teeth together. "I haven’t been drinking."
"Oh, psst. You think I don’t know you and your brother used to sneak whiskey from your father’s bar when you were teenagers?"
"You knew?" I ask cautiously. Where is she going with this?
"A mother always knows," she says archly. "Like I know you’re sulking right now."
"Mother, I don’t sulk."
"And it’s because you had a fight with your new wife."
"We didn’t have a fight."
Not unless you count the fact that she needs space, and I don’t understand what she means by that. Why the hell does she want to put distance between us? Can’t she stay under my roof and work out whatever it is she needs to work out? Why is it that she has to go off to a friend’s place for that? It can only mean she doesn’t want to be with me, but she’s fine to be with her friends. So, she doesn’t really need space in an abstract concept; she only wants to keep me at arm’s length. I place my phone on the table then jump up and begin to pace.
"Your restlessness tells me otherwise." My mother’s voice follows me. "I assume she wants something and you want something else?"
"Isn’t that the definition of marriage?"
"It’s the definition of life. Marriage is when you try to find common ground."
"You’re going to tell me next to compromise." I crack my neck.
"Do you want to compromise?"
"I don’t think I should be having this conversation with my mother."
"On the contrary. Given I have thirty years more experience at being married than you, I’m the right person to tell you that you need to follow your instinct."
"And what if my instinct says to go against what she asked me for?" I grip the back of my chair. "She wanted some space to figure out where her head’s at."
"That sounds reasonable. Getting married is a big change for anyone. But the woman seems to take the brunt of it, in most cases. Remember, you knew you were heading toward getting married for a while, but you only gave her a few days to adjust to it. And then, she’s the one who’s had to leave her home and move in with you. It stands to reason, that’s a lot of change to digest."
"It’s not only that; she seems to have something on her mind she’s grappling with. But apparently, she doesn’t trust me enough to tell me about it." I rub at my temple.
"Maybe she doesn’t trust herself enough," my mother says softly.
"Maybe."
"Either way, I’m sure the two of you’ll work things out." My mother’s features soften. "What you’re going through is no different from what many couples go through. I’m sure you guys will figure things out."
"Somehow, I’m not that sure."
She laughs. "It’s the first time I’ve heard you voice doubt about something."
"Apparently, it’s the time for many firsts in my life." I lean over and pick up the phone. "Thanks for the advice, Mother."
"Oh hang on, I almost forgot why I called you. Nadine and I want to jointly host you and Isla for lunch at her place, this Sunday."
I shuffle my feet. "Considering she’s not staying with me at the moment, I’m not sure if that’s possible."
"You underestimate the power of mothers." Her eyes gleam.
I scowl, "What have the two of you planned?
"Nothing. Can’t we have our children over for a family lunch?"
"Don’t try the innocent act, Mother."
