Rob's voice on the other end had lost its normally cheery cast. "I'm afraid so, Jen. I tried to get her to stay at a hotel, gave her all the usual excuses, even told her about the mold under the sink, and she positively insisted on seeing us once while she's at the conference."
Jenny closed her eyes, trying not to scream with frustration. Every single time Rob's mother, Lorianna, came within 50 miles of their apartment, Jenny and Rob took her out to dinner, which inevitably was filled with pointed comments such as, "well, have you chosen a wedding date?" and "I know James and I didn't live together until after we were married, that's all I can say." Jenny usually excused herself mid-meal for the bathroom only to sit in there for another half-hour, avoiding the old bat.
"Jenny? Are you there?"
"Okay. I can handle it. Can you think of a way for this dinner to end well?"
"Okay. I can handle it. Can you think of a way for this dinner to end well?"
There was silence from the other end; finally Rob said, in a strained voice, "We'll think of something. I have to go. Love you lots."
"Lo--" Rob hung up abruptly. "--ve you too," Jenny finished quietly.
Rob stared at his cell phone, wondering if he sounded too upset. He honestly didn't get along any better with his mother than Jenny did, but she was his mom, and that's all there was to it. He acquiesced to her demands because she could make his life a living hell if he didn't, but he didn't want to lose Jenny either. He realized intellectually that his mother was viliorating the relationship between himself and Jenny, but he had no idea how to stop it. Oh, hell. Maybe he should just crack and get one of those self-help books, or start reading the advice column.
On impulse, he picked up a Washington Post and started leafing through the Style section. The advice columnist seemed relatively well-informed, and he read through the column until he reached the second letter on child care, at which point he put down the paper hurriedly. He and Jen had problems, but at least they weren't of that kind. The columnist, though, had given him an idea for dealing with his mother. He smiled, and called her.
Jenny and Rob walked into the restaurant five minutes to seven. Jenny was perfectly composed, at least externally, and Rob, once again, had a grin on his face. While waiting for their guest to arrive, they examined the tadpoles and frogs in their wall-to-wall tank. Jenny eyed them enviously; they had no idea who their parents were and never had any squabbles with their family.
Lorianna walked in almost exactly as the clock struck seven and nodded genteelly to them both. "Good evening, Robert, Jennifer. Shall we proceed?"
Jenny raised an eyebrow at Rob, but he just stared straight ahead, the goofy grin still on his face. For a change, the dinner conversation seemed very light, possibly a bit forced, but generally pleasant. No questions besides those relating to various politics and the latest bestsellers were asked, and when the waiter finally showed up with the check, Jenny was actually enjoying her mother in law's company.
As Rob signed the credit card slip, Lorianna leaned forward to Jenny. She seemed somewhat embarrassed, and very contrite. "My dear, I have not been very kind to you in the past. I admit, I disliked you at first, but I've grown to liking you more and more. In addition," she said conspiratorially, "you can file tax returns without the IRS knocking at your door." Jenny's face turned a healthy shade of pink. Lorianna said a bit more, but it was the last phrase that really caught Jenny's attention: "I cannot think of a better wife for Robert to have."
After they dropped Lorianna off at her hotel, Jenny leaned over to Rob and whispered, "What did you DO?"
Rob's perpetual grin widened, but he didn't say a word.
