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“Mom, not sure…” He shook his head. “Okay.”
Annette looped her arm through his as they walked down the street in silence.
When they sat, Annette ordered a Viognier. “Jake?” she prompted.
“I’ll take a Sprite,” he said, looking at his mom, trying to process what she had told him before they walked into the bar.
“Mom, so that story you and Dad told…for years…isn’t true?”
“Well, it’s a modified version for our children and others who probably can’t handle the actual version, or we don’t trust notto judge or repeat in a way that would reflect badly on our love story.”
“Love story…” Jake repeated in a hushed voice.
“Yes, your father is the greatest love story of my life, for so many reasons that go much deeper than how we met…” Her voice trailed off, and then she looked at Jake as if remembering what she was telling him. “But it began in Paris when he and his friends attended a Moulin Rouge performance. They were probably twenty rows from the front…”
“Wait, so Dad’s buddies from UT, like John, Phil, and even Henry…saw you without a shirt? Mom…not sure I can…”
“Jake, you of all people, surely, you are capable of understanding your mom was once a young woman and yes, men saw me.”
“Please don’t say men as in plural,” Jake uttered, an imperceptible twitch in his jaw, nonplussed by his mom’s confession.
“Jake.” She extended her hand across the table. “Please grow up right this minute,” she said, squeezing the hand that he offered her. “As in right this very minute, young man,” she reiterated, her voice punctuated with her French accent as if he were eight and not demonstrating good sportsmanship.
His eyes dropped from hers. “Damn, okay.” He drew in a sharp breath. “Okay, all grown up.” He smiled. “But Henry…Mom, that was probably the best day of his life. I mean, he’s so anti-social and…”
She pulled her hand away. “Jake, I’ll have you know that Henry has been a rock for your father and me. He has been very devoted to our family and us to him. Yes, I understand that he’s a bit of a recluse, but he has always been there for us. That’s the reason he’s at every family event. We consider him family, and I want you and your sisters to know that. He has never beenjudgmental, which is remarkable considering how he has been treated by others in life.”
Jake nodded. “That’s true, and you know I love him. Sooo you and Dad?”
“Well, they came to that performance. Usually, I just see an audience when I’m dancing. I see a sea of people and I don’t notice anyone, but that night, I saw your dad…his blond hair caught my eye, and for a brief, yet extended second, our eyes locked, and I suppose the best way to say it is in that moment, it seemed to me he was the only person in the audience.”
“Okay…so you met him…”
“No, not that night, but he came back the next night alone and the next.” She let out what sounded like a muted giggle you would hear from a young woman in her twenties, making Jake see the youthful version of his mom in the flesh. He’d seen pictures of her when she was young, but his brain never saw her that way. At that moment, his mind flashed to her as a twenty-something woman; he had to shake his head from the visual.
“Mom, I get it, but I can’t see Dad…”
She cut him off. “And the next night and the next and each night…five nights in a row, he got closer until the fifth night…”
“Jesus, five nights? Where the hell were his UT buddies?”
“They left Paris. They went on to their next destination, London. Your father stayed and kept coming to see my show. Each night the eye glaze lasted a bit longer until…well, until the fifth night when he was sitting in the front row.”
“Mom, that would put Dad firmly in the stalker category…like not kinda stalkerish, like full-on stalker…”
She took a sip of wine. “I guess, but I was flattered.”
“Well, did he man-up and ask you out?”
“Sort of. When I walked out the backstage door into the night, he was waiting, and we, well, we just fell into a kiss…apassionate kiss.” She half-sighed and chuckled. “We didn’t even know each other’s names, but it was so…”
“So Dad is…I suppose it’s safe to say I came upon this perv thing honestly. Mom, that’s some pervy shit.”
“Or romantic. I guess it depends on your vantage point.”
“Mom, if you and Dad heard that story, but I was the one telling it…so let’s think about me doing the same. I let friends finish the European trip while I stayed back to stalk some pretty Moulin Rouge dancer…who I first noticed while she was performing"—he left offbare-chested, but it was blaring in his head—"then I accosted her outside the theater, not even knowing her name. Well… I can only imagine the screaming lectures that would be coming out of your mouth, not to mention how Dad would nearly break his neck shaking his head in silent disappointment."
“Well, Jake, that’s our job. To push for the straight path even if that’s not exactly how our love story went. I am telling you now because I know what you feel for Rakell is special, and I don’t want you to think there’s some normal or ideal path out there when it pertains to love…hell, life, son. Life does not follow a straight or predictable path; our eyes may be focusing straight ahead, but the path we walk still twists and turns.”
