Page 51 of Meet Stan

“About six months ago, I was at a charity function in LA when I ran into the most fascinating man—”

“Oh jeez, mom, not again,” I said with a groan. “When are you going to learn?”

She closed her mouth.

“When am I going to learn what?”

“When are you going to learn about these guys you keep hooking up with?” I threw my hands in the air. “Come on. How many potential stepdads did you go through when I was a kid? Dozens? And none of them lasted more than a week or two.”

She sighed, and bobbed her head in admission of her guilt.

“It’s true. I was desperate to find that glow I had with your father in the early days. I kept looking for it in all the wrong places.” She lifted her gaze at last and smiled. “But this time it’s different. This time I really do think so.”

“Come on, Mom, you were the one who taught me that love isn’t real, that it’s just temporary insanity.”

Her face fell.

“If that’s what I taught you, then I’m really, really sorry—”

Her face suddenly lit up like it was Christmas morning. My mother rose from her seat and enthusiastically waved at someone who’d entered the bistro. My gaze was drawn to a dark-skinned man in a nicely tailored leisure suit with salt and pepper hair and beard to match. He was a handsome man in spite of his age, with piercing blue eyes and a warm, easy smile.

And both his gaze and smile were focused squarely on my mother. I felt a stab of anger, territorial and primal, but it faded as the man drew closer. I didn’t think he was faking his affection for her. My next thought was he was trying to get at my money through my mother, but then I noticed his Rolex, his brand new TurboDroid XXL phone, and platinum neck chain and realized this guy had plenty of his own money.

She embraced him, and he kissed her on the cheek. They settled in on the opposite side of the booth, and he immediately took her hand.

“Stan, this is Ernesto. Ernesto, this is my son, Stan.”

“Nice to meet you, Stan,” he said in slightly accented English. I shook his hand, and he had a good grip. He didn’t try to break my hand or any of that bullshit, but it was a powerful grip all the same.

“Is this why you wanted me to meet you?” I asked.

“Yes, I did want the two of you to meet, but, it’s more than that.” My mom held her hand out for my perusal. For the first time since I’d walked into the bistro, I noticed that she wore a new bit of jewelry. My eyes widened as the implications settled in.

“You—you’re getting married?” I blurted.

“Yes,” she said, smiling huge and leaning into Ernesto. “You see, honey, that’s why I’m so worried that you think I taught you love isn’t real. I’ve found it at last, with Ernesto.”

“You didn’t love dad?”

“I did at first, I really did. Sometimes people grow apart, and sometimes, they grow together.” She looked into Ernesto’s eyes and sighed. “Over the last six months, Ernie and I have grown closer together. Neither of us is getting any younger, and we figured, why wait? Why not give in to love?”

Ernie fixed me with a sober frown.

“Stan, I know this must come as a shock. I know you’re probably thinking that you want to protect your mother from some lothario, and it’s easy to see why. But I do love your mother, and I want to spend the rest of my life with her.”

I took a deep breath, and looked at them both. So happy. So fucking happy. I envied them, even as I felt happy for them.

“If you can make my mother happy, then you’re going to be one of my favorite people in the entire world, Ernesto,” I said, taking the high road. “Nothing would please me more than to be part of your wedding.”

“That’s what I was hoping to hear.” Mom reached out and took my hand across the table. “I was hoping that since grandpa has passed, maybe you could give me away?”

“Yeah,” I blurted. “You bet. Anything for you, Mom.”

Ernesto’s phone rang, and he winced.

“I’m so sorry, but I have to take this. It’s that thing I talked about before—”

“I understand,” she said.

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