Chapter 26 Cards on the Table
Chapter26 Cards on the Table
The Mother of the Groom
“I’m not volunteering at the senior center. I’m working at the senior center. And I like it. A lot.”
George studied his wife of thirty-one years as if she’d been overtaken by aliens. This was the big confession she had warned
him about? The one she’d promised over breakfast would be happening after golf? He’d barely made a putt all round, worried
about this moment. And this was it. “Oh, thank God. I thought you were having an affair with that Silver Sneakers Pilates
instructor you’re always going on and on about. Rodolpho. I thought that’s why you were spending so much time there. What
a relief! It’s just a job!”
“Rodolpho is a former Broadway dancer who teaches chair Pilates. He’s gay, George,” Abigail replied, her emotions going from anxiety to annoyance. “I thought you might be more concerned I’d been stashing the money in my own slush find so I can maintain the lifestyle I’m accustomed to. A secret bank account for highlights, facials, decent clothes, laser hair removal. And not just for my benefit. Where do you think that Brooks Brothers blazer you wore at the engagement party came from? Or Sarah’s new sheath? The Goodwill on Post Road, thanks to my money. But I’ve been deceptive, George.” She put down her iced tea dramatically and stared out at the harbor view, hoping for a Bronte heroine moment.
George wrapped his arms around her, hoping for his own hero’s moment. “No, you’ve been proactive. You’ve kept us afloat, Abby.
I know that. So you’re pocketing some spare change to keep up appearances, literally. By shopping at the Goodwill! Imagine
that. Your Yankee ancestors would be proud. As am I. You deserve more than I can give you,” George admitted, but still with
a twinge of condescension toward Abigail’s contribution. She wriggled out of his arms and turned to face him.
“‘Kept us afloat’ is one way of putting it, George. Implementing and maintaining austerity measures is another. I don’t want
to spend the rest of my life resentful that we don’t have a second home or a new Mercedes or a retirement filled with cruises
and spa weeks planned. I’m trying to be positive and my job at the senior center has helped. It’s made me feel useful and
alive. Maybe that’s why you assumed I was having an affair.” She rarely joked about sex, but this time her insinuation broke
the tension. She didn’t want to be defensive and he didn’t want to antagonize. “But I think we need to acknowledge our situation,
George. And make real plans based on real data like our bank accounts, so you don’t promise anyone any more tents and I don’t
feel guilty about earning my own money and spending it on our wedding clothes. We need to be open and honest. Which is not
really our style.”
“I’m sorry I’ve failed you—” George started.
“Stop with that. The pity party is over.”
“You didn’t count on downward mobility.”
“I didn’t, but life happens. For richer, for poorer. I meant it,” Abigail countered. “You haven’t failed, but I don’t want
to pretend anymore. The misdirection is exhausting. I don’t mind putting up a front with the neighbors, but I can’t with you
anymore. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” George said softly. “I can’t either. I don’t want to pretend to make all the decisions.”
“Let me make us lunch and we can talk about what we want the next ten years of our life to look like in theory. And then we’re
going to sit down with our financials and talk about how that’s going to happen.” Abigail turned and headed back toward the
kitchen, not giving George an opportunity to dodge an afternoon of radical financial honesty.
“Are you going to make the good tuna fish sandwiches?”
“Is that what you’d like?”
“You can’t go wrong with tuna fish,” George said, repeating one of his personal aphorisms that he used every time the subject
of lunch came up. “Hey, how much money have you made at that fancy job of yours?”
“More than spare change, George,” Abigail said, thinking about the night before and her candlelit reflection in the mirror.
It had given her confidence. She did a little twirl in her skort and fitted T-shirt. “Enough to look this good.”
From the Desktop of Dearly Beloveds and Betrotheds
Dear B & Bs...
In over three decades of professional wedding-going, your Aunt B has only received a handful of calls and cards informing
her that the wedding in question has been canceled. As the recipient of this information, I’ve experienced a sort of hollow
sadness, a grand celebration jettisoned in favor of staying at home on the couch. But for the (once) happy couple, canceling
your wedding must feel like a ton of bricks dropped on your head as you walk past a construction site: all at once painful,
unforeseen, and humiliating.
That said, it really can be for the best. My goal today is to give you some practical guidelines for the immediate future in the wake of a cancellation. After you take care of business, the emotional aftermath is up to you.
Take a few days to decide if this is truly what both of you want. Weddings are stressful and can take a toll on even the most
even-keeled individuals. No need to cancel everything if this is simply a glitch in the fabric of your future. Yes, I am giving
you permission to have cold feet, call it off, change your mind, and call it back on.
Remember that calling off a wedding is easier and cheaper than divorce. Harsh, but true. If this is really the end of the
road for your relationship, then end it now. There is nothing noble about going through with a wedding if you know the marriage
is doomed. Even your mother’s scorn is easier to endure than a divorce attorney’s wrath.
Behave like grown-ups. If it’s a no-go, you need to work together to call off the vendors, the guests, your relatives, and
your wedding party. So, as hard as it might be to be civil, given the circumstances, you need to be civil for a few more days.
Resist the need to overexplain. Ninety-eight percent of the people in your life don’t need all the dirty details, even if
they are dying to know them, but they need a shred of information. Use a simple explainer: We’ve decided that marriage is
not the right path for us. Thank you for your support as we move forward separately.
Repurpose those vendors! Want to save the deposit and do something to celebrate (or at least ease the pain) of your newly single life? Keep the photographer and do a shoot with you and your dog living the good life. (Yes, I did suggest a photo shoot with your dog because even Aunt B loves dogs.) Take that honeymoon with your two best friends, who would love to go on a cruise down the Danube, thank you for asking. Throw yourself a dance party with that booked deejay and some cheap wine and beer. Don’t keep your wedding date, of course. But do put those deposits to work.
Nobody wants tainted wedding gifts back, so don’t sweat this task. Return the gifts you can. Donate the engraved items to
Habitat for Humanity. Or save a few to smash in the privacy of your own backyard.
Take time to grieve. I’m sorry that your wedding plans didn’t come to fruition. The loss of an engagement is a true loss.
You will need a moment, and I hope that you can find some solace in the fact that you did a very brave thing.
Big Kiss (even without the Wedding Bliss),
Your Aunt B