Dinner with Amelia

Dinner with Amelia

By R. A. Conti

Amelia wondered what kind of girl Babette would be. She had only seen Michael with one other girlfriend, and that had been a long time ago. She finished setting the table just as Michael and Babette arrived.

Babette looked nothing like Kathleen. She had been a tall, slender blonde girl with long hair and a round face. Babette was short, stocky, and dark-haired. She nodded when Michael introduced them. Her penetrating eyes and wide smile struck Amelia.

Amelia ushered them into the dining room. “Everything’s ready. Please sit down.” She had set the table with simple elegance. There were plain white dishes, wine goblets, ornate knives and silverware, and a large bottle of red wine.

“Michael, pour us some wine while I get the food.”

“Where’s Laura?” he asked as they sat.

“She had to work late. I hope she gets home before you leave.”

Michael wasn’t surprised. Since their conversation and her meeting with Betsy, Laura and Michael had been talking more often. He knew why she had become ‘busy’ at work. That was what she told her mother. She had started dating Elliott, the young man she had met at church. He suspected Laura was with Elliott and smiled.

Amelia brought a huge pan of lasagna to the table. “That’s beautiful!” Babette gasped.

“Wait ‘til you taste it,” Michael said. “You won’t believe what you’re eating.”

His compliment flattered Amelia. She couldn’t recall the last time her son had praised her cooking. She took Babette’s plate and filled it with lasagna. Babette’s eyes got bigger.

“I think that’s too much,” she protested. Amelia ignored her. She filled Michael’s plate, and then her own.

“I hope you like this wine,” Amelia commented, raising her glass. She waited for Michael and Babette to raise their glasses. “It’s good with lasagna- and just about anything else!” She took a couple of long sips. Michael and Babette tasted the wine and then set their glasses down.

“Go ahead and eat,” Amelia said.

She waited to see Babette’s reaction to her first taste of homemade lasagna. Babette realized Amelia was watching and put a forkful in her mouth. Her facial expression changed from curious to ecstatic. Amelia felt delighted but didn’t want to embarrass the girl and didn’t comment. Instead, she took another long sip of wine.

“Mom, this is delicious. I swear it’s the best one you’ve ever made.”

“Oh, he’s just saying that,” Amelia protested. “It’s always been his favorite from when he was a little kid.”

“I can see why. This is wonderful, Mrs. Romanelli.”

“Please call me Amelia.”

She smiled and then sipped more wine. Michael had not eaten many recent meals with his mother. He was surprised she liked the wine so much.

“So, I only ever met one of Michael’s girlfriends, and that was a long time ago.” She paused to take another bite of food. “What was her name?”

“Oh, that’s when I came here to pick up some stuff. That was Kathleen Davis.”

“Oh, yes. I remember now.” She finished her glass of wine and asked Michael to pour her another. As soon as the glass was full, Amelia picked it up and took another mouthful. “I never met that nig-.”

“Mom!” Michael cut her off.

“Colored girl.”

“Oh, you mean Agatha?” Babette asked.

“You know her?” Amelia asked.

“I’ve met her. She’s very sweet. I sometimes work with her boyfriend.”

“Oh.” Amelia took another long drink of wine. “How nice. What does he do?”

“He’s an actor,” Babette said.

“Is he…?”

“Black?” Michael asked, annoyed. “Yes, he is.”

“Good. That’s the way it should be,” Amelia commented.

“What should be?” Babette asked.

“Those people should keep to themselves. We should all stick to our own kind. Like you two.”

Babette wondered if Amelia was suggesting Michael was dating her because she was white and not because he liked her and wanted to be with her. She decided to probe Amelia.

“Well, I don’t see a problem, if two people fall in love…”

“Were you in love with that girl?” Amelia asked, aghast. Then she reached again for her wine glass. Michael ignored her. Babette felt sorry for him.

“He’s in love with me,” she said, reaching for his hand.

“Yeah, Mom. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I’m moving in with Babette.” He paused. Amelia drained her glass. “But, I’m not running away this time.”

Amelia didn’t know what to say. Her intuition used to warn her when something big was about to happen, although she rarely knew precisely what it would be. However, she’d had no inkling that Louis would die of a heart attack and, since his death, her intuition and foresight had failed her. She might have to start worrying about why that happened and what it meant for her future, but she put it off for now.

“Are you’re getting married? That’s so sudden, but it’s great.”

“No, Mom, we’re just moving in together.”

“But, you might get married?” she asked, excitedly. They looked at each other, unwilling to let her pin them down.

“We haven’t talked about it,” Babette replied before Michael could speak. He nodded.

“I’ll still see you and Laura. And, I’ll help you out financially as much as I can. I’m making more money now. I don’t want you to worry.”

“Um, well, yes. Thanks, Michael.”

Amelia thought about refilling her wine glass, but didn’t reach for the bottle. She had been enjoying the wine until now. It had relaxed her. She’d also been enjoying the pleasant dinner with her son and his girlfriend. Now she realized the real reason Michael brought Babette to meet her was so he could say goodbye.

He had been her impulsive little boy when he’d run away several years ago. She and Louis had assumed Michael would come running back begging their forgiveness because he had nowhere else to go. However, he hadn’t. The longer he stayed away, the more she had accepted that he no longer wanted them to be his family.

Amelia recalled the conversation they’d had a few months earlier. Michael had taken his friend Betsy’s advice and tried to talk to his mother when they were alone. He wanted to find out how she felt about what he had done. It had been a difficult conversation. Amelia revealed her feelings right away.

“You hurt me bad, Michael. You never should have done what you did to us. We’re your family.”

“I did it to survive,” Michael asserted.

“Survive? Did you think we were trying to kill you?”

“Of course not. But you didn’t understand me, and you didn’t seem to even want to. That hurt. I knew my leaving would hurt you. Someone who helped me told me as much, but she said it was inevitable.”

“You could at least say you’re sorry.”

“But I’m not,” Michael replied. “I had to do it.”

“That means you’d do it again if you had to.”

He shook his head. “I’m older now.”

“I know you wanted to stay with those other people you were with at that farm,” Amelia said. “You only came back because your father died. You probably hate it here with us.”

“They were great people, and I loved that place. But that was another life, and it’s over. I came back for you and Laura, and I’ll stay to help you and Laura. I’m glad I can do it.”

“That’s all we are to you, now, people you can help? We’re not your family anymore?”

“It’s never gonna be the way it was when Laura and I were little, Mom. That family is gone. Dad is gone.”

“Don’t remind me. I haven’t gotten over losing either one of you.”

“But, you haven’t lost me!” Michael protested.

“Haven’t I? It’s obvious you don’t love me anymore. You only stayed after dad’s funeral because you had to, but not because you wanted to.”

“That’s true. I wasn’t planning to stay. But, I changed my mind.”

“Because you felt you owed us, not because you loved us,” she replied.

Michael found it strange that his mother kept mentioning love when she had never seemed to understand what love was when he was younger. He had left because she seemed incapable of loving him. Now he thought maybe she had loved him, but back then, he hadn’t seen how her particular kind of love worked. He still couldn’t see it. Amelia seemed to want something from others that she was unwilling or unable to give.

Michael had come to know many people. They were all different and unique. He had received much love from them. He knew what being loved felt like, and still didn’t feel it coming from her.

Yet, Amelia was still his mother. She did love him and felt hurt that he didn’t reciprocate. She also knew it was normal for a son to find a girl, marry her, and move out. But, she didn’t feel ready for it to happen with her son. Not so soon after he had come back home. Not so soon after she’d lost Louis. Amelia wanted to cry. She reached for her wine glass and gestured for Michael to refill it.

He hesitated. She sighed. They had finished the lasagna.

“Mom, why don’t you sit there, and we’ll clear the table for you.”

“Oh, don’t bother. I can do it,” Amelia protested. Michael stood up. Babette pushed her chair back and began to stand. Amelia looked at Babette and had an idea. “Maybe us girls can let the man do the cleaning up, for a change,” she said.

Babette sensed that Amelia wanted to talk and sat down. “Um, yeah. He’s pretty good at that,” she commented. Michael collected their plates and carried them toward the kitchen.

“Men are so different nowadays,” Amelia said, in a low voice. “When I was your age, no man would come into the kitchen to do anything but eat.” Babette smiled and nodded. “My husband was no exception.”

“I’m sorry I never met him.”

“He would have liked you. He had an eye for pretty girls.” Babette didn’t reply, and Amelia drifted into a wine-induced memory fog. “You know, I envy you, in a way,” she whispered as Michael walked back into the room. She waited until he picked up the lasagna pan and left. “You’re lucky,” she said.

“How so?”

“Maybe it’s better to try things out first and not get married right away.”

Amelia’s comment surprised Babette. “You really think so?” she asked, hoping Amelia would open up to her.

“I sure wish I had.”

“Had what?” Michael asked as he came back. His mother ignored the question.

“While you’re at it, why don’t you serve the dessert?” Amelia suggested. “There’s apple pie in the oven and vanilla ice cream in the freezer. Do you like pie and ice cream, Babette?” Babette smiled and nodded. “Who doesn’t, right?” Amelia waved Michael out of the dining room.

“I didn’t know anything about men when I married Louis. I went from my parents’ house to our little apartment. It wasn’t easy. Oh, I knew how to cook and do housework. I had worked a few jobs, too. But I didn’t know about men. I only had sisters, no brothers, and my father worked a lot, so I hardly ever saw him when I was growing up. He was nice enough…,” she added, and then paused to reflect. “But I found out not all men were nice. Not that Louis ever hit me, or anything like that. And, he didn’t get drunk. He was a good provider…” Her voice trailed off.

“But…?”

“That was all he was. I felt so alone. I couldn’t cry when he was around, but I did when he was at work. I couldn’t admit it to myself back then, but I know now that I shouldn’t have married him.”

“You didn’t love him?”

“No, not at first. That came later. But sometimes it was hard, you know?”

“He didn’t love you?” Babette asked. She felt surprised and flattered that Amelia was opening up to her.

“He said he did, but I was never sure.”

“Do you mean…?”

“No, he was never with other women, as far as I know. It’s just that he was never with me, either. He was just with himself. I don’t know how else to say it.” Amelia paused. “He was his own best friend.”

Babette’s heart broke for this lonely woman. “He didn’t need you?” she asked.

Amelia nodded. “I don’t think he needed anybody.”

“I’m sorry, Amelia. I really am.”

Michael returned with their desserts and sat down. He had overheard much of what the women were discussing, but didn’t want to embarrass either his mother or Babette and said nothing. Michael had also finally understood why he’d run away from home and never went back or even communicated with his family while he was away.