All We Ever Wanted(75)

“Yeah. Someone will scoop him up soon,” Mom continued. “He’s so nice-looking.”

“Maybe he’s already been scooped up,” I said, thinking dinner at our house didn’t preclude a relationship. After all, I was married—and it hadn’t stopped my mother.

“No,” Mom said, adamant. “He’s definitely single….Hey! I have an idea! Maybe you could set him up with one of your rich, divorced Nashville friends?”

There were multiple things that disturbed me about this suggestion (though I was surprised it had taken her more than ten minutes to use the word rich). “Um, Dad. Can you help me out here?”

“Judy,” Dad said, shaking his head and chuckling. “That’s a little bizarre, don’t you think? To assign Nina as matchmaker for Teddy?”

“Why is it bizarre?” Mom said as I wondered if she was pretending to be obtuse—or actually was. It was often a close call.

   “Well…because…that’s like me setting up Patty,” Dad said, referring to his college sweetheart, who got way too much airtime. Not from Dad but from Mom, who clung to her jealous grudge after all these years. No matter that she had actually been the one to steal Dad from Patty. No matter that Dad had no contact with Patty whatsoever (Mom had friended her on Facebook). It made no sense—and was therefore a great source of amusement for Dad and me.

“It’s not the same thing at all,” Mom said.

“Oh? Why isn’t it?” Dad said.

“Yeah, Mom,” I chimed in. “Why isn’t it?”

“Because,” Mom said, trying to suppress a mischievous grin. “Patty is a hag.”

Dad shook his head as I burst into laughter. “Oh my God, Mom. A hag? You’re terrible.”

“I speak the truth,” Mom said. “She is a hag, and you both know it.”

“Well, put out another place setting!” I said in the voice of a game-show host, complete with Bob Barker–like gestures. “Because guess what? I invited that hag to dinner!”

“Now why would you go and do that?” Mom said, helping me set up my joke further.

“Because I felt sorry for her haggedyness. Her cart was so sad. Filled with Entenmann’s coffee cake and prune juice.”

Dad laughed as Mom pretended to be mad—all part of her anti-Patty schtick.

“So…what time ‘might’ Teddy arrive?” I said, glancing at the clock on the microwave.

“Six o’clock,” she said proudly. “So any minute!”

“Ugh. I’ll be right back,” I muttered then retreated to the back hall to get my purse. I ducked into the powder room to brush my hair and touch up my makeup. It wasn’t that I specifically wanted to look good for Teddy; it was something I’d do for any guest, particularly someone I hadn’t seen in several years. A simple matter of pride.

   The doorbell rang as I was returning to the kitchen.

“You should get it,” Mom said.

“Why should I get it? You’re the one who invited him.”

“Nina,” my mom said, her voice rising in a warning. “Be nice.”

I sighed, then went to the door, trying to remember the last time I’d seen Teddy, deciding it would be our first topic of conversation. An icebreaker, if you will.

“Hi, Teddy,” I said, swinging open the screen door and smiling at a middle-aged stranger who, but for those ice-blue eyes, bore little resemblance to the boy I used to date. Don’t get me wrong—it’s not that he looked bad. He was still in decent shape—or at least hadn’t gained much weight—perhaps a function of being tall and having an active profession as a police officer. His hairline had receded more than I’d expected, but with a strong jaw and a nice-shaped head, he could pull it off. If anything, I thought he looked a little better now, having finally shed his aw-shucks boyishness.

“Hi, Nina,” he said, looking and sounding uneasy. “I’m sorry about this. Your mom wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

I laughed and rolled my eyes, saying, “Believe me, I know.” Then, worrying that my statement might have come off as rude, I leaned in and gave him a quick hug. “It’s really good to see you again,” I said.

“You, too,” Teddy said, giving me a big smile, which instantly transformed him back to his old teenage self. Too sweet for me, I thought, thinking of all the Boy Scout clichés that had defined his character because they were things he actually did. How whenever he found a spider in the house, he’d catch it in a container, setting it free outside. How he had shoveled snow for the old lady on his street without charging her—or even taking credit for it. How he never cussed, using ridiculous substitute words like dagnabbit and jackwagon. How he prayed before every meal, including breakfast and lunch, but did it quickly and discreetly so as not to make anyone uncomfortable. He was sort of the opposite of Kathie, come to think of it. Pure of heart without any showiness.

   “So, it’s been a while,” I said, as I led him into the kitchen.

“Sure has,” he replied, then exchanged robust hellos with Dad, the two of them shaking hands with a simultaneous back clap.

“Good to see you, buddy,” Dad said as my mother descended upon Teddy, giving him an embrace that looked more like the kind you’d give a relative who’d just returned from Afghanistan than like the way you’d greet your daughter’s ancient-history ex-boyfriend.