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“Well, you know I’m divorced now,” I started slowly.
But my mom just pooh-poohed.
“Oh honey, Gary was never right for you. I know you dated two years and all but some people are able to keep things hidden for years, foryearsbaby. Remember that douche Michael that I dated back in ’05? He was in the mafia and I didn’t even know untilafterwe broke up.”
I winced at that one. Linda was still beautiful at forty and had dated non-stop since I was two, my dad leaving when I was just a baby. And I agreed, the whole mafia situation had been unbelievable. We’d thought Michael was an insurance salesman, a totally blah white-bread dude, but instead he turned out to be not Michael, but Massimo of the Valetti Crime Family, a hired assassin who’d committed countless atrocities. And as the kicker, it was only when the FBI came knocking that my mom and I found out.
But the situation with Tucker was different. I mean, Michael being a hitman was so far-fetched to be almost ludicrous, straight out of a movie. But my life was no movie, and the current situation didn’t have a happy ending.
So I began explaining to my mom, slowly at first, then picking up steam. Linda and I don’t talk that often, she’s always traveling on some jaunt or another, so this was as good a time as any, and once I got into the groove, it all tumbled out, the deliveries that went awry, moving in together, my lover’s horrific betrayal.
“So let me get this straight,” said Linda slowly. The satellite phone was so good, so sensitive, that I could almost feel the sway of the boat she was on, hear the lap of waves against the hull. “The man you’re dating is incredibly successful, and not a delivery man at all,” she said slowly.
“Sort of, yes,” I acknowledged. “But there’s a bigger point. Tucker lied to me, he could have told me the truth at any point but he never said anything.”
I could almost hear my mom shaking her head.
“But what did you expect?” she asked. “That your man was going to be upfront and open with you from the very beginning, especially given his past experiences with women?”
I paused for a moment.
“Well yes,” I said righteously. “I mean, you should always give your lover the benefit of the doubt. If you start off on a suspicious note it just gets you off on a bad foot, poisons the well.”
My mom was silent for a moment. I was obviously touchy and she didn’t want to set me off.
“But honey,” continued my mom gently, “this guy Tucker explained why he didn’t tell you his identity at first, why he kept it a secret. He was afraid that you might only want him for his money because that’s what women in his past found most attractive.”
“But that’s not me! He didn’t have to test me!” I cried vehemently. “I work in government for crying out loud, helping translate signs so that immigrants and new Americans know where the bathroom is. Of course I’m not about the money, why would I take a job like this? I could be working anywhere else and make twice as much.”
My mom paused for a moment.
“Honey, don’t get me wrong, I love the fact that you’re a do-gooder but I think you’re mixing two things up,” she said gently. “Just because you work for nothing doesn’t mean that you’re not interested in money. The two don’t cancel each other out, and one doesn’t necessarily imply the other,” she said.
I paused for a moment contemplating. Sure, I guess bad people sometimes do good things, and good people do bad things. But my commitment to helping others surely telegraphed that I wasn’t on the market for a rich husband, right? Wasn’t that obvious? But before I could speak, my mom continued.
“And besides,” said Linda, “Tucker’s been the target of dozens of ladies, probably hundreds of women, young and old, would love to be Mrs. McGrath, die to have his ring on their finger.”
That made a shiver run down my spine. Another woman as Tucker’s wife? The thought made me blanch, keel over with pain. But I had my pride.
“I’veneversaid anything about marriage,” I said stiffly. “I only just got divorced.”
“Of course honey,” my mom said in a conciliatory voice. “Of course. But you do understand why Tucker is the way he is? It sounds like he’s had to ward off gold-diggers a couple times, and just like you, once burned, twice shy. He’s careful now, he doesn’t just open up his soul to anyone. The walls come down slowly as two people get to know one another, build bridges of trust and understanding.”
And I snorted a little rudely then.
“Okay Ma, you sound like Dr. Phil or some radio station love guru, but I guess you’d know, you’ve been married four times,” I said snarkily.
But my mom took the insults in a breeze. I guess being a parent helps the comments roll off, impertinent kids are par for the course.
“It’s not the four marriages,” replied my mom lightly. “It’s that I’m older now, been through a lot, had my heart broken a couple times and picked myself up along the way. Trust me honey, this isn’t the disaster you’re making it out to be. In fact, this guy sounds like he really loves you baby, really respects you for your choices, the fact that you’re clearly not about his wealth. Give him another chance,” she said persuasively. “You owe it to him … and yourself.”
But I wasn’t having it.
“I don’t owe Tucker McGrath anything,” I snapped, “Nothing at all.”
My mom just sighed, her voice crackling a bit with static.
“Well have it your way, but take it from someone who’s been through marriage four times,” she said wryly. “This guy sounds like a catch and he seems to really be into you. Don’t lose it just because of something small, because you might not be able to get it back,” she said with a rueful sigh. “Even if you apologize, sometimes it’s never the way it was.”
