The story of Wes (part 1 of 3)

Mom and I were on our way to Olive Garden on December 22 (this would be the last time I saw her), and her phone rang. She checked it, and I could tell she was excited, despite not answering the call.

“Who was that?” I asked.

“Oh, just this guy Wes I went to high school with.”

“Wes, huh?”

“We’re just friends.”

“Do you two talk on the phone a lot?”

“No. It's kind of random that he called me just now.” I got the impression she was lying.

Mom was very casually dating a different man she went to high school with, with whom I was familiar. For this sake, we’ll call him Bert. Everyone in her life was excited that she had a romantic prospect, and I even had the chance to meet Bert. I liked him a lot.

While we were at the dinner table, Mom said, “Sometimes, I can’t help thinking how much more comfortable I’d be with Wes.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Bert has money and such a nice house. I would be so embarrassed for him to see my trailer. Wes is more down-to-earth.”

“So, you are thinking about calling things off with Bert simply because he HAS money? That seems silly.”

“It’s not just that.” She trailed off.

In hindsight, I feel bad for questioning her intuition, but in my defense, she wasn’t being completely forward with the most authentic form of the truth. I think she herself was afraid of it – the truth, that is. However, I should have noticed the difference in her face when she talked about Wes, the lightness in her voice.

Over New Year’s, Mom and Bert spent a weekend together, and after the mini trip, I called her and asked, “So, how was it?!”

She paused for a long time. “Okay, I guess …”

I spent a lot of time asking her questions about why it was just ‘okay,’ but she never provided complete clarity. All I know is she sounded so deflated. Sad, almost.

It was like she was trying to convince herself to be excited about Bert and the idea of love, but her heart just wasn’t quite in it. It was somewhere else.

Next up … what happened January 11.