There was a hesitate and a flicker of something in his eyes but then he said, “She’s… changing. It’s a process.”
That was the first forewarning bell. I didn’t press him on it then, but I should’ve.
I didn’t see his name on the invitation, or a role for him. There was no announcement of a suit or special photo.
For illustrative purpose only
Two weeks before the wedding, I invited Wendy to my house for tea. I thought maybe she just needed to hear it from me, what Alex meant to our family.
She appeared in a crisp white blouse, not a wrinkle on her, and everything about her was collected.
I asked gently, “So, what part will Alex be playing in the wedding?”
She twinkled, set her cup down, and smiled.
“Oh. Well… it’s not really a kid-friendly event,” she said.
“A wedding isn’t a nightclub, Wendy,” I replied, keeping my voice steady. “He’s five. And he’s Matthew’s son.”
She leaned back and said, “Exactly, he’s Matthew’s son, not mine.”
I cried at her, unsure I’d heard right.
She went on. “Look, I don’t hate kids, if that’s what you’re thinking. I just… I’m not ready to be a full-time stepmom. Matthew and I agreed that Alex will go on staying with you because we our need space. It’s better for everyone.”
“It’s not better for Alex,” I said.
She laughed, like I was being operatic. “He won’t even remember this day. He’s five.”
“He’ll remember not being included,” I said. “Children always remember when they’re excluded.”
Her jaw tensed. “This is our wedding. I’m not endangering the photos, the energy, or the experience just because people expect some sentimental moment with a child I barely know.”
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