The day after Christmas, my mother came into town to meet Bry. Mom
and I had taken her to the zoo. Abby, luckily for her, had to work.
I plopped down on the sofa and ran my hand through my hair. Spending an entire day with my mother was. . .well, exhausting. So exhausting, in fact, that Bryanne was fast asleep on a bed upstairs in the mansion.
"She really is beautiful," Mom said.
"Who?"
"What do you mean, who? Bryanne, that's who."
I smiled. "Yeah, she's gorgeous."
"But, John. . ." She sat down on the sofa. "Are you sure she's yours?"
"I'm sorry?" Was she kidding? Bry couldn't look more like me if we had cloned her. Except for the fact that she had Abby's nose and coloring.
"Well, it's just that, I wouldn't be surprised if this woman lied to you just to get some of your money."
"By 'this woman,' I suppose you mean Abby?"
"Yes. I just want you to think about this reasonable before you get to emotionally attached."
"Attached to my daughter?" Did she honestly think I was going to be taking parenting advice from her?
"I just don't want Abby to disappoint you . . .or hurt you." She reached out for me but I backed away.
"No, of course not. That's your job, isn't it?" I couldn't believe I was having this conversation.
"She just doesn't seem good enough for you, John. I know I haven't been the best mother but I'm trying to make up for it now by protecting you." She stood up and walked towards me.
"You want to be a good mother?" I hissed. "Then be supportive."
She sighed. "It's not that easy, John. Wait until that little girl grows up and starts dating someone you don't approve of. Then you'll understand."
"What I don't understand is why you don't approve of Abby." I crossed my arms. This should be interesting.
"I think she's a gold digger," she said, bluntly.
I laughed. "Trust me, Mom. Abby couldn't be less interested in my money if she tried."
"All good con-artists make you think the exact opposite of what's true."
"You're paranoid," I said. "You're gonna have to come up with a better argument than that if you expect me to take you seriously." I walked across the room to the bar. I had a feeling I was gonna need a stiff drink before this was all over.
"She's a whore."
I froze, the brandy bottle in mid-pour. "What did you say?" I asked quietly, my back to my mother.
"She's a whore. She's probably slept with every man at the hospital."
I turned on my heels. "Abby is NOT a whore. She is NOT a gold digger. And she IS good enough for me." I slammed the bottle on the counter. "If you were expecting me to agree with you and just drop her, then you've got another think coming."
"Can't you just think about the possibility that. . ."
"No! You don't know her. I know her. I love her. And she loves me. That's all there is to think about."
Mom sighed again. "There's no sense in trying to tell you anything. You just never listen." She stormed out of the room, into the library.
I turned around to go into the hall and I saw Abby standing in the doorway, tears streaming down her face.
I plopped down on the sofa and ran my hand through my hair. Spending an entire day with my mother was. . .well, exhausting. So exhausting, in fact, that Bryanne was fast asleep on a bed upstairs in the mansion.
"She really is beautiful," Mom said.
"Who?"
"What do you mean, who? Bryanne, that's who."
I smiled. "Yeah, she's gorgeous."
"But, John. . ." She sat down on the sofa. "Are you sure she's yours?"
"I'm sorry?" Was she kidding? Bry couldn't look more like me if we had cloned her. Except for the fact that she had Abby's nose and coloring.
"Well, it's just that, I wouldn't be surprised if this woman lied to you just to get some of your money."
"By 'this woman,' I suppose you mean Abby?"
"Yes. I just want you to think about this reasonable before you get to emotionally attached."
"Attached to my daughter?" Did she honestly think I was going to be taking parenting advice from her?
"I just don't want Abby to disappoint you . . .or hurt you." She reached out for me but I backed away.
"No, of course not. That's your job, isn't it?" I couldn't believe I was having this conversation.
"She just doesn't seem good enough for you, John. I know I haven't been the best mother but I'm trying to make up for it now by protecting you." She stood up and walked towards me.
"You want to be a good mother?" I hissed. "Then be supportive."
She sighed. "It's not that easy, John. Wait until that little girl grows up and starts dating someone you don't approve of. Then you'll understand."
"What I don't understand is why you don't approve of Abby." I crossed my arms. This should be interesting.
"I think she's a gold digger," she said, bluntly.
I laughed. "Trust me, Mom. Abby couldn't be less interested in my money if she tried."
"All good con-artists make you think the exact opposite of what's true."
"You're paranoid," I said. "You're gonna have to come up with a better argument than that if you expect me to take you seriously." I walked across the room to the bar. I had a feeling I was gonna need a stiff drink before this was all over.
"She's a whore."
I froze, the brandy bottle in mid-pour. "What did you say?" I asked quietly, my back to my mother.
"She's a whore. She's probably slept with every man at the hospital."
I turned on my heels. "Abby is NOT a whore. She is NOT a gold digger. And she IS good enough for me." I slammed the bottle on the counter. "If you were expecting me to agree with you and just drop her, then you've got another think coming."
"Can't you just think about the possibility that. . ."
"No! You don't know her. I know her. I love her. And she loves me. That's all there is to think about."
Mom sighed again. "There's no sense in trying to tell you anything. You just never listen." She stormed out of the room, into the library.
I turned around to go into the hall and I saw Abby standing in the doorway, tears streaming down her face.