The Wedding Sisters Read Free Page B

Meryl had encouraged her mother to try to sell some of her work. But Rose had huffed and said, “It’s just a hobby. Your generation only wants to turn play into work instead of finding an honest profession.” Meryl found it sad that her mother couldn’t even fully embrace the joy she got from painting. Her mother never seemed to find joy in much of anything—ever. And Meryl never quite understood why.
    â€œYou’re really going to do this to Meg?”
    â€œI’m not doing anything. This is about the choices you made, Meryl.” When her mother was angry, the Polish accent became more pronounced. “What did you think was going to happen when you married a man of poor character? Of course your daughter doesn’t know any better.”
    Meryl sighed. “Mom, it’s just dinner. I’m not asking you to walk her down the aisle. It’s a family dinner, and I’d like for you to be a part of it. Don’t you want to meet her fiancé and his family?”
    â€œI don’t need to meet him. I know all about that family. A bunch of anti-Semites.”
    â€œThey are not anti-Semites, Mom.” Just Republicans. Stop it, she told herself.
    â€œI can’t sleep at night, you know.”
    â€œBecause of Meg’s engagement?” Meryl asked incredulously.
    â€œThe club where they want to have the wedding used to be restricted. I expected more from Meg,” said Rose. “But then, why should I expect anything when you’ve done nothing to make them value who they are and where they come from.”
    Meryl sighed. Rose’s criticism was nothing new, but it was difficult to take from a woman who never spoke about the country where she’d been born, never shared photographs of her childhood, had not raised her particularly Jewish—and yet had been endlessly, blatantly hostile toward her marriage outside the Jewish faith. Her mother acted as though Meryl had turned her back on some rich heritage—as if she’d raised Meryl in some parallel universe.
    Meryl had thought her relationship with her mother might mend when Meg was born. Surely there was nothing better for a mother and daughter to bond over than a new baby—a first grandchild! But any hope for a new beginning was dashed when, upon hearing Meryl and Hugh’s choice of name for their baby, her mother refused to speak to them or to see the baby for the first month of her life. And then, the only thing she said to Meryl was that she had “dishonored” her grandparents by failing to name the baby after one of them so that “their soul can rest in peace.” To be honest, the Jewish tradition of naming the baby after a deceased family member had never even occurred to Meryl. She had been so charmed by Hugh’s idea of naming the baby after a character in Little Women. Back then, she had found all Hugh’s quirks and obsessions romantic and endearing.
    Her mother turned back to the television, tight-lipped, her hands clutching the remote as if it were the controls of a plane losing altitude.
    Meryl thought of the food hastily shoved into the refrigerator at home, the flowers that needed to be bought, and the unfortunate possibility of Meg, Stowe, and Tippy somehow arriving at the apartment before her.
    â€œLook, Mom, I really would like for you to be there.”
    It was an understatement. She was surprised by how very much she wanted her mother by her side for dinner that night. Yes, she had three grown daughters of her own. Still, she sometimes yearned for her mother. But she had learned long ago to accept Rose’s limitations. As she used to tell Meg, Jo, and Amy: “You get what you get, and you don’t get upset.”
    Meryl took another deep breath, trying not to get too emotional. “And I know the girls want you to be there. It would mean a lot to us. But obviously I can’t force you out of this apartment and into a cab. So I’m going