She lingered on the artwork. Robert’s collection of Southwestern paintings that had appreciated significantly over the years. The credenza in the dining room.
“At an estate sale 30 years ago. This is original, isn’t it?” Her eyes were sharp.
“What period?”
“Early 1900s,” I’d answered. “It was one of our first purchases together.”
“These can be quite valuable if they’re authentic.”
She examined the silver candlesticks on the mantel. The crystal vase on the side table.
I asked standard getting-to-know-you questions that any mother would ask her son’s girlfriend.
“Oh, my parents are in Connecticut. Father’s in… the usual.”
“And where did you grow up?”
“We moved around a lot for Father’s career.”
She smiled and touched Daniel’s arm, steering the conversation away.
“Daniel, tell your mother about that project you’re working on. The one with the impossible deadline.”
Where did she go to college?
“A small school back East.”
What exactly did her consulting work involve?
“Brand strategy. Market positioning. You know how it is.”
Who were her friends? What did she like to do?
“Mom, isn’t she amazing?” Daniel asked me that night after she left, his eyes bright with infatuation.
I smiled and said yes, because what else could I say?
I’d been the overbearing mother before in his previous relationships, and it never went well. I decided to stay quiet and observe.
Over the next few months, Vanessa became a fixture in Daniel’s life, and slowly, I watched my son change.
When he did come by, Vanessa was always with him. And she dominated every conversation. She’d make little comments.
“Daniel, your mother’s house is so dated, don’t you think? All this heavy furniture and old art.”
She laughed like it was a joke, but her eyes weren’t laughing.
Daniel looked uncomfortable but never defended me. Never said, “Actually, my mother’s home is beautiful and filled with memories.”
He just changed the subject.
Then came the conversations about money.
“Mom, Vanessa and I have been talking,” Daniel said one Sunday, about four months into their relationship. “We want to start a business together. A consulting firm. But we need capital to get it off the ground.”
Vanessa was nodding beside him, her hand on his knee.
“How much are you thinking?” I asked.
“Two hundred thousand to start,” Vanessa said quickly. Too quickly. “We have a solid business plan. You’d get a return on your investment, of course.”
I looked at my son.
“Daniel, you know the trust your father set up. The money is protected for a reason. But I do have some discretionary funds. Let me see your business plan, and I’ll consider lending you $50,000 as seed money.”
Vanessa’s smile tightened.
“Fifty thousand won’t be enough for what we have in mind. Available resources. That’s smart business.”