Chapter 3 - The Invitation
On Tuesday afternoon, Wade called my cell phone. It was the first time he had contacted me since kicking me out on Sunday night. I sat on my porch porch swing, looking out over our garden, heart racing slightly as I answered.
"Mom," Wade said, his voice clipped and businesslike. "Hey. Look, Fallon said you left a pair of reading glasses on the guest room counter. Do you need them back right away?"
Not a single inquiry into how I was doing. No apology for making me scrub their floors. No mention of the dinner.
"I have a spare pair, Wade," I answered, keeping my tone entirely neutral.
"Okay, good," Wade said, blowing out a breath. "Because things are really hectic right now. Mr. Peterson’s visit went okay on Sunday, but he mentioned that the company is undergoing a top-down executive evaluation this week. Some high-level representative from the board of directors is coming to town on Thursday."
I held the phone a little tighter. "Is that so?"
"Yeah," Wade sighed, sounding stressed. "Peterson said the entire regional promotion structure is on hold until this board member conducts an internal review. Fallon and I are attending the executive dinner at the Grand Bay Hotel on Thursday night. It’s an exclusive event—only top contenders and board members are allowed. If I can just get five minutes with this board representative, my career is made."
I paused, absorbing his words. He was talking about the very event Robert was taking me to.
"Wade," I said carefully. "Have you ever asked Robert about his career in medical technology?"
Wade made an irritated noise through the phone. "Mom, please. Not now. I'm trying to navigate a massive corporate opportunity. Robert worked in tech sales or maintenance or whatever. That's fine for him, but this is Apex BioTech. We're talking about high-level corporate governance. Robert wouldn't understand how any of this works."
"I see," I replied. "So you're still confident in 'a certain caliber of people'?"
There was a brief silence on the line. Wade sounded slightly uncomfortable, but he quickly hardened his tone. "Mom, I told you, Sunday was business. Fallon was under a lot of stress. You know how important presentation is. Anyway, I have to jump on a conference call. I'll drop your glasses off at your house sometime next week."
Before I could answer, he hung up.
I sat holding the phone, feeling a strange mix of sorrow and clarity. My son had completely closed his mind to anything that didn't fit his fragile construct of success. He didn't see me as a mother; he saw me as a liability to be hidden away from the world he wished to join.
When Robert came home that evening from his weekly chess club, he carried two large black garment bags.
"What's this?" I asked, rising from the sofa.
Robert smiled, unzipping the first bag to reveal a breathtaking deep sapphire-blue evening gown made of pure silk, tailored with elegant lace long sleeves and a subtle silver belt.
"This," Robert said gently, "is for Thursday night. We have a private fitting appointment tomorrow morning with a stylist I've known for twenty years."
"Robert, this looks incredibly expensive," I protested, touching the smooth silk. "I'm used to sweaters and trousers..."
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"Edna," Robert took my hands, looking into my eyes with unwavering devotion. "For thirty-five years, you wore second-hand clothes so your son could wear designer shoes. You worked until your hands cracked so he could walk into country clubs. It is time for the world to see the woman who built the man—and the woman who conquered every storm with her dignity intact."
Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, but for the first time in days, they were not tears of grief. They were tears of a woman finally being seen.
