“Suzanne Marie”—it been years since she used my middle name—”of course I was hurt when I first spoke to Kerry’s mom and at first I thought she was intending to hurt me, to gloat over having won you and taken you from me.” She brushed away my attempt to respond.
“I thought that. And I thought that after I met the woman a few days ago. But, Suzanne, I then did something I too rarely have done in recent years. I talked to God and understood. That’s when I reached out again to Kerry’s mother, Eileen, and told her what happened to me and only then would she let me meet Kerry and only when I convinced Kerry that I could be…that I am fully committed to you did she let me see you.
“The funny thing is that it has not been that hard to do, this whole loving-you-for-who-you-are thing. It is not loving-you-despite-who-you-are. I now see that that’s not love at all.”
She paused as we both began to feel the warmth of the sun’s rays, oblivious to the noises around us, and then looked out over the scene, at the people lazing and playing, talking and laughing and then, remarkably, just let herself lie down too, staring up at the brilliant blue sky. I lay down next to her.
“I am your mother. I’ve always been your mother, and I always will be. If you’ll let me. Please let me be your mother again. Or perhaps for the first time. Can we do that Suzanne? Can you do it?”
And I believed her so I said, “I’d like that.” I knew her well enough to know that she would not have told me what she had without believing it, to her soul. I believed her.
I looked at my watch. It was a bit after three. Without getting up, I speed-dialed Kerry.
“I am lying on my back in the Sheep Meadow next to my Mother. When can you get here?”
I told her we were on the northwestern side, and that we wouldn’t be hard to find “since my Mother is wearing one of my scarlet Stanford shirts. Really. I couldn’t believe it. It’s a little tight on her”—my Mother is not as light on top as I am—”but it looks good…Yeah, shorts too. Who knew she had great legs?”
For the next twenty minutes or so, we lay next to one another, not caring about the sun frying our faces, although she did have her Aussie hat and sunglasses on. There was gossip I had to tell her, the drive east with Annie and the drives Annie and I took on weekends, my adventures at school and then at my jobs, all manner of little things I had done that I had not been able to share with her that now bubbled from me.
“Get a room!” It was Kerry. She jumped on me. She literally threw herself down on top of me and gave me a (chaste) kiss before rolling off to the side where my Mother was not. Far from being repulsed by Kerry’s PDA, my Mother was smiling. Which was very unusual.
I got up and left them alone to make two phone calls. Aunt Mary answered on the fourth ring, sounding more panicked than I had ever heard her. Of course, she was getting married in less than twenty-four hours so panicking should not have been a surprise. I summarized what happened between me and my Mother. I told her that time would tell, but I felt good, really good about my Mother, and she said she was happy for me and looked forward to seeing us tomorrow, and when she said “you” she said she meant my Mother as well. And I had much the same conversation with Mom, who said she felt the weight of the world leaving her shoulders on the news, and I could almost feel the reduced tension over the phone.
Rejoining the others, they got up, we dusted ourselves off, and the three of us walked south, towards Grand Central where Kerry and I would be getting our train home. The crowds made walking difficult on Fifth Avenue. But we were in no hurry and did some window shopping along the way. As we reached 51st Street, my Mother asked if we would go into St. Pat’s with her, and we followed her. I’d been there once or twice and am still amazed at how bright and welcoming it is. Even to an agnostic like me.
My Mother, who I could see was a bit uncomfortable given the informality of what she wore, stopped us in an aisle. “You girls go on home. I have some things to do here. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I had told her that I spoke to Aunt Mary and that she was looking forward—really—to seeing her. Kerry and I each gave my Mother a hug and a kiss and left her as she genuflected before sitting quietly in a pew not far from the altar.
As we continued to Grand Central, Kerry and I were both quiet, talking a bit about whether everyone was going to be ready for Mary’s and Betty’s Wedding.