“No. She’s not Catholic.”
“Oh.” My mom didn’t sound disappointed, just a little surprised and maybe a little worried. “Daniel, I—you were married last month and I’m only hearing about it now? How long have you known this woman?”
I winced. “Two and a half years.”
“Two and a half years?” she screeched. “What else are you hiding, huh? You two have a couple of kids? You playing left wing for the Bruins next season? You and Tom Brady shoot the shit on the weekends?”
“Ma—”
“That’s a long time, bub. You’ve been together over two years and you never wanted to introduce her to your mother?” The hurt edge in my mom’s voice sliced me open. I needed to get this conversation back on track before I was dealing with full-out tears of acid.
“Listen, Ma. It was sudden. Really sudden. I’ve known her for over two years, yes. But we were friends. Then one thing led to another and we were married in a rush at the Cook County Clerk's office. It was nothing fancy.”
“Is she pregnant?” She sounded hopeful.
“No.”
“Oh.” Frustration. “Let me get this straight. You were married in a County Clerk's office? What were you thinking? Were her parents there?” She sounded like she didn’t know if she was hurt or irritated.
“No. Her parents are not—her dad has Alzheimer’s. He doesn’t know who she is.”
“Oh no. That’s terrible.” She made a sad tutting sound. “And her mother? Was her mom there? Please tell me she had her mother there on her wedding day to my son.”
“No, Ma. Her mother has—” I didn’t want to finish that sentence. The word “schizophrenia” was loaded, conjured all sorts of scary assumptions. My ma was an ICU nurse, but still. As far as I knew, the closest my family had ever come to a diagnosed mental illness was Uncle Zip’s short-term memory loss. A construction crane falling on him during the Big Dig had caused that. He also got a metal plate in his head and would stick magnets to his face during parties, but that wasn’t mental illness. That was just Uncle Zip.
“Her mother is unwell and is institutionalized,” I finally finished.
She was quiet for a moment and, knowing my mom, I could almost see her expression as she stared into space, trying to sort through all I’d told her. “Who am I even talking to right now? I don’t understand this. It’s so unlike you. Didn’t you want me there? Your sisters?”
“Yes. Of course I wanted—”
“What about your aunts and uncles? And cousins? I know you’re not speaking to Seamus, but a wedding should be a celebration where you’re surrounded by people who love you. Not an afterthought at the fucking courthouse during your lunch break. That’s no way to welcome Kathleen into our family. What must she think of us?” Now she sounded disappointed. Really fucking disappointed. And angry.
So there was only one thing to do. Own it. “You’re right.”
“Of course I’m right.” She sniffed. “And now it’s time for you to make this right.”
“What if we throw a big party in Boston? Invite the whole family. It’ll be like a wedding reception, with cake, a bouquet toss, the whole thing.”
“Really?” She perked up, but then she huffed. “No. That’s no good. I don’t want the future mother of my grandchildren throwing a party for my family and me. I should be throwing a party for her. Did she get a bridal shower? Anything to celebrate the occasion? And what do I tell people who want to send gifts?” My mom made a strangled sound of frustration. “And what do I tell Father Matthew? Goddamn Father Matthew. He’s gonna be pissed.”
“Ma . . .”
“Don’t ma me. This isn’t right, and you know it. Do you love this girl?”
“Yes.” I didn’t hesitate. Easiest lie I’d ever told.
“You love your family?”
“Of course.”
“Then bring her home. I’ve been waiting to meet her my whole life.”
“You just found out about her ten minutes ago!”
“Don’t be a smartass. You know what I meant. Introduce her to your mother, your family. Show her you respect her, that you’re proud of her. Don’t be a fucking sneak. Loving a person isn’t something to be ashamed of.”
“It’s not like that—”
“Good. You’ll bring her home. You’ll stay here in your old room.”
When I hesitated, she said, “Daniel, you forget my birthday and now you’re keeping my daughter-in-law from me?”