“She’s very polished,” she said slowly. “She’s from a different world than ours.”
“Do you like her?” I pressed.
She set a plate in the drying rack.
“I like that Mark is happy,” she said. “I hope she knows how much he’s worth.”
After college, Mark and Ella moved to the city together. They got jobs that sounded impressive on paper. They lived in a modern apartment with stainless steel appliances and huge windows. Ella’s parents helped with the rent. My mother went to visit them once. When she came back, she told me about it.
“It’s like one of those apartments in the magazines,” she said. “Everything white and glass. There’s a coffee machine that probably costs more than my car. I didn’t even know where to put my bag.”
“Did they seem happy?” I asked.
“They seem like they’re trying very hard to be the people they think they’re supposed to be,” she said with a small smile. “But yes, they seem happy.”
Over the next few years, my mother continued to help Mark in small ways. When his car needed repairs he couldn’t afford, she lent him money. When he was between jobs for a month, she quietly paid one of his credit card bills to keep him from falling too far behind. She told me about it only in pieces.
“I know I should let him handle it,” she would say, stirring sugar into her coffee. “But I remember what it’s like to feel as if everything will fall apart over one bill. If I can ease that just a little, how can I not?”
“You’re not his safety net forever,” I would reply. “He has Ella. He has her parents. They can help.”
She shrugged.
“A mother loves differently,” she said. “It’s not logical.”
When Mark and Ella got engaged, they called us together. Ella held her hand up to the camera during the video call, the diamond flashing. Mark grinned.
“Look,” she said. “He did so well, didn’t he?”
My mother pressed a hand to her chest.
“Oh, honey,” she said. “I’m so happy for you both.”
They began talking about plans almost immediately. Ella wanted a “classy but fun” wedding. She had strong opinions about flowers, music, lighting, and photography.
“My parents know a planner,” she said. “She did my cousin’s wedding at this amazing venue. We can get on her calendar if we move fast.”
“Don’t worry about the planning, Mom,” Mark said. “Ella has it under control. Her parents are helping a lot.”
My mother nodded.
“I can help, too,” she said. “I don’t have as much, but I’ve been saving a little every month since you were kids for moments like this.”
“Mom, you don’t have to,” I started.
But she held up a hand.
“I know I don’t have to,” she said. “I want to. Let me have this.”
Later, when we were alone, I tried again.