Wednesday, November 21, 2012

My coffee arrived and I placed my order

My coffee arrived and I placed my order. Absorbed in my textbook again, I had read through half a page when I heard her voice beside me. “Hi, Wilson.”
Jane smiled when I looked up. “I didn’t see you last weekend,” she went on easily. “I thought I must have scared you away.”
I swallowed, unable to speak, thinking that she was even prettier than I remembered. I don’t know how long I stared without saying anything, but it was long enough for her face to take on a concerned expression. “Wilson?” she asked. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I said, but strangely, I couldn’t think of anything more to add,ladies rolex datejusts. After a moment she nodded, looking puzzled. “Well . . ,http://www.rolexsubmarinerreplica1.com. good. I’m sorry I didn’t see you come in. I would have had you sit in my section. You’re just about the closest thing I have to a regular customer.”
“Yes,adidas jeremy scott wings,” I said again. I knew even then that my response made no sense, but this was the only word I seemed able to formulate in her presence. She waited for me to add something more. When I didn’t, I glimpsed a flash of disappointment in her expression. “I can see you’re busy,” she finally said, nodding to my book. “I just wanted to come over and say hello, and to thank you again for walking me to my car. Enjoy your breakfast.” She was about to turn before I was able to break the spell I seemed to be under.
“Jane?” I blurted out.
“Yes?”
I cleared my throat. “Maybe I could walk you to your car again sometime. Even if it’s not raining.”
She studied me for a moment before answering. “That would be nice, Wilson.”
“Maybe later today?”
She smiled. “Sure.”
When she turned, I spoke again.
“And Jane?”
This time she glanced over her shoulder. “Yes?”
Finally understanding the real reason I had come, I put both hands on my textbook, trying to draw strength from a world that I understood. “Would you like to have dinner with me this weekend?”
She seemed amused that it had taken me so long to ask.
“Yes, Wilson,” she said. “I’d like that very much.”
It was hard to believe that here we were, more than three decades later, sitting with our daughter discussing her upcoming wedding. Anna’s surprise request for a simple, quick wedding was met with utter silence. At first Jane seemed thunderstruck, but then, regaining her senses, she began to shake her head, whispering with mounting urgency, “No, no, no . . .” In retrospect, her reaction was hardly unexpected. I suppose that one of the moments a mother looks most forward to in life is when a daughter gets married. An entire industry has been built up around weddings, and it’s only natural that most mothers have expectations about the way it’s supposed to be. Anna’s ideas presented a sharp contrast to what Jane had always wanted for her daughters,fake uggs, and though it was Anna’s wedding, Jane could no more escape her beliefs than she could her own past.
Jane didn’t have a problem with Anna and Keith marrying on our anniversary—she of all people knew the state of Noah’s health, and Anna and Keith were, in fact, moving in a couple of weeks—but she didn’t like the idea of them getting married by a justice of the peace. Nor was she pleased that there were only eight days to make the arrangements and that Anna intended to keep the celebration small. I sat in silence as the negotiations began in earnest. Jane would say, “What about the Sloans? They would be heartbroken if you didn’t invite them. Or John Peterson? He taught you piano for years, and I know how much you liked him.” “But it’s no big deal,” Anna would repeat. “Keith and I already live together.

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