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Amy's mother: Not a happy camper
Amy's mother was simply beside herself with irritation at the idea that I was back in her daughter's life at any level. As she and Amy went to Wal-Mart to exchange and return some poorly selected Christmas presents, Deanna was in a tizzy.
"He'll never change. He's just leading you on. He's selfish. Before you know it, you're going to be 50 years old, still single, no children and on the phone with Adam McManus. You'll have nothing to show for all that gabbing."
"Mom, it's not like that," Amy said feebly, hoping to change the subject.
"Not like that? Well then, tell me, what's changed? Has he put a ring on your finger?"
"Then that's it. Just move on. There are plenty of other fish in the sea."
"Mom, can we just talk about something else?" Amy half-way pleaded.
"No, we're not -- not until you tell me you're over him. He's wasting your time," Deanna countered.
Amy couldn't take it any more. "Mom, listen to me. I'll tell you what's going on in 20 minutes at 4:30. OK?"
"4:30? Why what's happening at 4:30?"
"Just 20 minutes Mom. That's all I'm asking. Please!"
All of a sudden, Deanna switched gears as it was beginning to dawn on her what might be abrewing. "Are we expecting a conference call at 4:30? Because if we are, I've got a long list of things I want to ask that young man. He should be in counseling or something."
One of the items her mother had gone to Wal-Mart to pick up was a box of tall kitchen trash bags. But, there she was, running in circles in the women's clothing section, her bearings amiss.
"Amy, please don't tell me we're expecting company. Because if that's the case, the house is a total mess. I've got to do the dishes, make the beds, and wash Veda." Veda was their shaggy-haired dog. When I heard later that Amy's mother wanted to make sure that the dog was presentable if I was coming in town to discuss marrying their daughter, I had to chuckle. Life can be rather amusing at times, don't you think?
As Deanna stormed out of Wal-Mart, practically jogging to the car, Amy dialed her father at work as she chased her mother through the parking lot.
"Listen, can you be free to talk in 10 minutes at 4:30?"
"Are you and your mother having problems?"
"We're okay. She's just a little stressed, that's all. Can you be free at 4:30 for me to call you back?"
Sensing something dramatic was about to happen, Matt slowly said, "Suuure. I can be free."
"Okay. I'll call you back then."
Matt turned around in his chair, noticing that all of the office gossips were crowded around, eavesdropping on his call. Without missing a beat, he declared, "Well, my daughter's getting married."
"To who?" they practically yelled.
"I have no idea," he confessed. After all, Amy had been casually dating a couple of different guys in Houston. And, as far as he was concerned, while I had been talking to her on the phone since Hurricane Rita in late September, from all he could discern, we were just good friends, with no remote possibility of wedding bells in the future, short or long-term.
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