rubbed her eyes, and said, “I think he might own us, but we’l see.”
Harrison smiled. “You’re a good mom,” he said, and then he went to brush his teeth. Just like that, out of the blue,
“Do you want to go back in?” Isabel a asked him. “Katie is talking about her birthing plan.”
Harrison considered. “No,” he said. “I do not.”
Isabel a twisted the handkerchief in her hand and smiled.
“She has three other kids,” Mary said.
“None like me,” he said, putting his arm around her shoulder.
Mary tried to be charitable. After al , she was Catholic. She could suffer in silence. She tried not to say anything when Ken spent whole weekends at his mom’s house, doing her taxes or helping her pick out a door for the new garage. “My dad took care of al that stuff,” he said whenever Mary complained that she didn’t see him enough.
On Mary and Ken’s first date, Ken took a cal from his mom in the middle of dinner. “I’m sorry,” he said when he got back. “My mom gets nervous when I don’t answer. My dad passed a few years ago, and so she’s al alone.”
Mary could have cried from happiness. She was on a blind date with a truly nice guy who loved his mother and wasn’t afraid to tel her. Three dates later it wasn’t as charming.
Ken moved into Mary’s apartment but warned her that he could never tel his mom what he’d done. “But we’re thirty,” Mary said. She’d never found him less attractive.
“My mom is just old-fashioned,” he said. “And I don’t want to upset her. She’s been through so much with my dad and everything.” And so Mary wasn’t al owed to say much more.
“Some umbilical cords are stronger than others,” Lauren told her. It sounded like the first line of a horror movie.
“Cal me Button,” Ken’s mother said when they got engaged. “Or Mom.”
Everyone cal ed Ken’s mother Button. They always had. Most people didn’t even know that her real name was Virginia. “My dad just thought I was cute as a button,” she explained once to Mary. “And the name stuck.”
Mary couldn’t imagine cal ing a grown woman Button. Cal ing her Mom was worse. Mary was certain the offer was insincere. She wanted to keep cal ing her Mrs. Walker, like she always had. But now that the subject had been broached, she knew she couldn’t, so Mary just said, “Thank you,”
and stopped cal ing her anything.
“What am I supposed to do?” Mary asked Isabel a. “His family is obviously crazy.”
“So is Harrison’s family,” Isabel a said. “They never hug. Did I tel you that? They literal y just wave at each other from across the room when they haven’t seen each other in months. It’s bizarre.”
“Wel , Ken’s mother hugs her children when they leave the room for more than five minutes.”
“Real y?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s kind of weird.”
“I know.”
“Harrison’s family doesn’t ever talk on the phone. Never. Except if they’re going to meet somewhere and they want to confirm the time.”
“Ken’s family only goes out to eat at T.G.I. Friday’s or Chili’s,” Mary said, and Isabel a laughed.
“Harrison’s brother eats with his hands and never says ‘Excuse me’ when he leaves the table. He just gets up to go.”
“I don’t think Button wants us to get married.”
“Real y?”
“Yeah. I think she wants Ken to pay attention only to her.”
“Ew,” Isabel a said.
“I know.”
Every summer, Ken’s family went to Lake Minnetonka in Cable, Wisconsin. “Don’t you guys ever want to go somewhere else?” Mary asked.
“That’s where we go,” Ken explained. “My dad started taking us there when I was just a baby.”
Mary and Ken had been dating for two years, but Mary was never invited to “the lake.” Ken came on vacation with her family, but never mentioned it when he went away. Now that they were engaged, Button cal ed Ken to tel him to extend the invitation to Mary. He told her as though she should be thril ed. “You’l get to see the lake!” he said. She smiled. No lake could be worth a week with Button.
