The Man Across the Table
Aunt Martha called today and said she had someone she wanted me to meet. “A nice young man.” Again. Inside, I was whimpering, “Pleeeese, dear aunt, stop trying to find a husband for me,” but I heard myself say, “That sounds lovely, Aunt Martha. What time?” As usual, I was determined to tell her afterwards, “But this is the last time.” I understand why she does it. She’s the only real family I have left and she rather dotes on me. It’s nice to know someone thinks I’m special, even if she has an exasperating way of showing it. “When I’m gone, who will take care of you?” I remind her that I’ve been taking care of myself for a while. Almost 20 years, in fact. I had worked hard, earned a Fine Arts degree, and established a very successful interior design business. I own my own home, can afford pretty much what I wan...