“She’s also a single mom.”
“I guess, but she’s incredible. Anna is a wonderful mother. And Aaron… he’s a great kid. He told me I was his favorite grown-up last week.”
“I’m sure she appreciates the help, Jonathan,” my mother replied, dabbing at the corner of her mouth with her napkin. “A good man is hard to find.”
There was no warmth in her voice, and no invitation for more.
“A good man is hard to find.”
We talked about other things after that: work, the weather, and a new art exhibit downtown, but she never said Anna’s name. And I didn’t force it.
Not yet.
***
A few weeks later, I brought them to meet her anyway. We met at a small coffee shop near my apartment. Anna was ten minutes late, and I could see that as every minute passed, my mother grew more annoyed.
I brought them to meet her anyway.
When they arrived, Anna looked flustered. Her hair was in a loose bun, she wore jeans and a pale blouse, and one side of her collar was slightly curled. Aaron clung to her hand, eyes scanning the pastry counter as they walked in.
“This is Anna,” I said, standing to greet them. “And this is Aaron.”
My mother stood, offered her hand, and gave Anna a smile that didn’t have any warmth.
Aaron’s sitter had canceled, and she’d had to bring him
