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Authors: N.M. Silber
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They’re both such aggressive people. I have this image of them snarling at each other as they walk me up the aisle.”
“Maybe Mr. Jonathan can hire us some stand-ins.”
“That would be lovely.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to elope?”
“Ask me again in a week.”
Chapter Twelve
Sunday
The next morning we informed “the mothers” as I had begun calling them, of our intention to be married in just over a month from then. You would have thought that we had announced the end of the world. There was general panic and much scrambling. My mother called to inform us that they were holding a meeting at our apartment at two PM and that Mr. Jonathan himself would be there. I felt like I had been subpoenaed. I figured that I might as well invite Bruce, since his idol would be making an appearance. When he heard the news he nearly fainted.
Adam and I had a relaxing morning, eating bagels and lox, sipping our coffee and sharing the paper. Meanwhile, I imagined that Deb and Judith were operating like they were at DEFCON One. I couldn’t wait to see what they had whipped together by two PM. Never underestimate two Jewish mothers planning a wedding.
Two o’clock rolled around much too quickly for my taste. Bruce arrived first. He was practically vibrating with excitement. He had also taken pains to look his best and he was all spiffed up. He floated through the front door like a butterfly and settled himself in a chair as if he had just ascended the throne… as Queen.
Adam’s mother was next with all three of her daughters and little Josh in tow. Hannah came in schlepping a purse big enough to hide in, a tote bag filled with toys, an insulated snack bag with Elmo on it and a kiddie sized toilet seat. Her hair was falling out of her ponytail; her blouse was buttoned wrong and she was wearing two different socks. Motherhood didn’t look very easy.
I guess it all depended on the mother and hood, though, because in glided my egg donor looking immaculately put together. She had someone in tow too. I think it may have been Liberace. Bruce flew to his feet, and for a moment, I worried that he would actually prostrate himself before his master.
“Don’t tell me, Mr. Jonathan, right?” Adam asked with a sunny smile.
I don’t know what tipped him off. Maybe it was the gray and purple madras slacks paired with the magenta cardigan. Perhaps, it was the silver and white fringed scarf thrown, devil-may-care, around his neck, or the cute beret set at a jaunty angle on his finely coiffed head.
“A pleasure, but I must say, you two have created quite a panic. Let me tell you …”
“Mommy, I gotta go potty,” a little voice said from somewhere. Mr. Jonathan looked annoyed to have his opening remarks cut off. Too bad. Potty was a priority.
“Sure, honey. Mommy will take you.” Hannah went off with Josh as the rest of us settled around the dining room table. Yes, that dining room table. I tried not to think about it.
Adam and I spent several minutes listening to his mother try to reason with us, and my mother try to threaten us, so that we would hold off until at least June. When they realized they were wasting their time, they gave in and turned the floor over to Mr. J.
“I’ll need someone to assist,” he said, sounding like an emergency room surgeon.
“Me! Me! Pick me!” Bruce said throwing his arm in the air and waving it around.
“I think Bruce has to go potty too,” I noted dryly, earning me a catty look from Bette Davis. “I’m Bruce Goodman by the way. It’s a great honor to meet you,” he said sounding like he was greeting a Nobel Laureate.
“I’m humbled,” Mr. J. said, not sounding humble at all. “Mr. Goodman, if you would take notes …”
“Oh please, call me Bruce!” Bruce looked at me expectantly. I stared back. “Lil! I need some paper and a pen!” I rolled my eyes and got up to find him something to write on.
When I got back, Hannah had returned and I saw Josh sitting
“Maybe Mr. Jonathan can hire us some stand-ins.”
“That would be lovely.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to elope?”
“Ask me again in a week.”
Chapter Twelve
Sunday
The next morning we informed “the mothers” as I had begun calling them, of our intention to be married in just over a month from then. You would have thought that we had announced the end of the world. There was general panic and much scrambling. My mother called to inform us that they were holding a meeting at our apartment at two PM and that Mr. Jonathan himself would be there. I felt like I had been subpoenaed. I figured that I might as well invite Bruce, since his idol would be making an appearance. When he heard the news he nearly fainted.
Adam and I had a relaxing morning, eating bagels and lox, sipping our coffee and sharing the paper. Meanwhile, I imagined that Deb and Judith were operating like they were at DEFCON One. I couldn’t wait to see what they had whipped together by two PM. Never underestimate two Jewish mothers planning a wedding.
Two o’clock rolled around much too quickly for my taste. Bruce arrived first. He was practically vibrating with excitement. He had also taken pains to look his best and he was all spiffed up. He floated through the front door like a butterfly and settled himself in a chair as if he had just ascended the throne… as Queen.
Adam’s mother was next with all three of her daughters and little Josh in tow. Hannah came in schlepping a purse big enough to hide in, a tote bag filled with toys, an insulated snack bag with Elmo on it and a kiddie sized toilet seat. Her hair was falling out of her ponytail; her blouse was buttoned wrong and she was wearing two different socks. Motherhood didn’t look very easy.
I guess it all depended on the mother and hood, though, because in glided my egg donor looking immaculately put together. She had someone in tow too. I think it may have been Liberace. Bruce flew to his feet, and for a moment, I worried that he would actually prostrate himself before his master.
“Don’t tell me, Mr. Jonathan, right?” Adam asked with a sunny smile.
I don’t know what tipped him off. Maybe it was the gray and purple madras slacks paired with the magenta cardigan. Perhaps, it was the silver and white fringed scarf thrown, devil-may-care, around his neck, or the cute beret set at a jaunty angle on his finely coiffed head.
“A pleasure, but I must say, you two have created quite a panic. Let me tell you …”
“Mommy, I gotta go potty,” a little voice said from somewhere. Mr. Jonathan looked annoyed to have his opening remarks cut off. Too bad. Potty was a priority.
“Sure, honey. Mommy will take you.” Hannah went off with Josh as the rest of us settled around the dining room table. Yes, that dining room table. I tried not to think about it.
Adam and I spent several minutes listening to his mother try to reason with us, and my mother try to threaten us, so that we would hold off until at least June. When they realized they were wasting their time, they gave in and turned the floor over to Mr. J.
“I’ll need someone to assist,” he said, sounding like an emergency room surgeon.
“Me! Me! Pick me!” Bruce said throwing his arm in the air and waving it around.
“I think Bruce has to go potty too,” I noted dryly, earning me a catty look from Bette Davis. “I’m Bruce Goodman by the way. It’s a great honor to meet you,” he said sounding like he was greeting a Nobel Laureate.
“I’m humbled,” Mr. J. said, not sounding humble at all. “Mr. Goodman, if you would take notes …”
“Oh please, call me Bruce!” Bruce looked at me expectantly. I stared back. “Lil! I need some paper and a pen!” I rolled my eyes and got up to find him something to write on.
When I got back, Hannah had returned and I saw Josh sitting
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