My Mother's Last Gift

I have always been very close to my Mother. We would meet for lunch or dinner weekly, up until the lockdowns due to the Covid-19 virus. It pained me so much not to be able to see her in person during those months of confinement. One evening at dinner, we were discussing my horrible, boring love life. Being as I was almost 43, she told me that she knew I would meet someone and could not wait to share a glass of her favorite merlot with him someday. She had taken a liking to this specific wine, not only because the woman on the bottle resembled her beloved grandmother, but she really enjoyed the notes of blueberry, leather, tobacco, and chocolate, and how the taste would linger around her mouth after every sip. I laughed at the thought of finding a decent partner, because I had never felt mutual love and it was starting to seem as if I never would. I asked her, “How will I know when I have found true love?”

With a soft voice, she responded with, “You will just know”.

It was April, 2020, and I received a call from my father. He said my Mother had been taken to the ER because she was having trouble breathing. I felt my body grow cold and my stomach drop to my feet, a weakness I had never felt before. Shaking and unnerved, I stumbled to find my shoes and some other necessities, ran to the door, and rushed to the hospital as fast as I could. When I finally arrived, I noticed many white tents set up outside in the parking lot. I tried to rush past them but a security officer, who was wearing a facemask and shield over his face, detained me. He told me I needed to immediately put a mask on and asked me if I had a cough, fever or shortness of breath. I felt a surge of anger and agitation grow in my stomach. I couldn’t contain my emotions, and while panicking I managed muster, “No, I don’t! Please, I need to see my Mom”! He calmly responded, “Ma’am, I’m sorry, we cannot let anyone into the hospital to see patients. We’re having a Corona Virus crises and it’s too dangerous.”

I started bawling, hot tears streaming down my face, taking my black mascara down with it. I begged for information and they refused to tell me anything. I don’t remember how I got home that night. All that I can recall is phoning my father, asking for updates begging him to tell me what was going on. He finally relented and told me she tested positive for Covid-19 and we weren’t allowed to see her. That night, I received a call from the hospital at 2am. My heart sank once again, that feeling of dread and doom numbing my whole body as I heard the nurse ask if I wanted to see and speak to her one last time over FaceTime. I was devastated, completely.

Over the next few months, I laid in my bed crying, staring at the dull ceiling and crying some more. It was a horrible existence. We weren’t able to leave the house except to retrieve groceries and I had mine delivered, so that I wouldn’t have to see the outside world. I didn’t want to leave the confinement of my room; all that I wanted was my mother, but she was gone.

Some more time passed and we finally found out vaccines were coming, and we would all be able to see each other again soon. I was somewhat disappointed about this as all I could think of was why my mother was not able to be here for the vaccine just a few months earlier. She might have had a fighting chance! I started to feel guilty about getting it when she wasn’t given that opportunity. Eventually, when most restrictions were lifted, my daughter and son came to visit me. They were in shock over how I looked and demanded I get up and get out of the house. I was thrilled to see them so it helped lift my spirits. We went to an outdoor restaurant and it felt great to see people and feel the warmth of the sun. After talking to my kids, I realized I had been in a deep depression and I wanted to live for them. I needed to get myself together, and make peace with what happened to my Mother.

The following weekend, I decided to take myself out to dinner at my Mother’s favorite restaurant where we last ate together. I sat there staring at the menu, pondering what my mother would have wanted to eat. I ordered Chicken Marsala; it was her favorite. I asked the waiter for an extra plate, as the plate was a symbol for my Mom being there with me. I was hoping the waiter just thought I was weird separating my food, and not actually comprehending what was happening. I inhaled, and shut my eyes, thinking about all the good times we shared and trying to focus on all the funny, happy memories. This was the first time I was actually allowing myself to open my mind to any thoughts of her because I was afraid it would hurt too much, and I would end up back in my room, swimming in sorrow. I started to feel an overwhelming relief that I had not felt since before the hospital incident. I thanked my mom, in my mind, for helping me through this and I knew she was there with me.

As I was starting to take a bite of the food before me, the waiter walked over and said, “Excuse me ma’am?”

A little startled, my eyes widened and I asked “Yes?”

He said the man over in the corner asked me to send you this fine Merlot. I suddenly felt afraid to look up; I was a nervous wreck. My hands grew clammy and my heart began to beat quickly. I thought to myself, I’m sitting here trying to make peace and someone is trying to pick me up? That’s just my luck!

The waiter looked at me and said it is a glass of Meet Cute; my mom’s favorite! I instantly looked up, and across the room our eyes met. I felt a surge of calmness and warmth from this man I had never seen before.

I quickly glanced down at the ivory colored tablecloth and tried to inconspicuously calm my nerves. It had been a while since I had this kind of experience with a man. I could still feel the man looking my way and decided to stand up, smoothing out my black dress in the process. I took a deep breath, and tried to hide my hands, which were quivering with nervousness. I approached him, and mustered a hopefully inviting smile.

“Thank you for the drink, that was nice of you”

“Of course,” He smiled back.

“Ah, uh… would you like to eat with me? I’m starved,” He chuckled lightly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you while you were eating, I’m sure this is a bit uncomfortable for you.”

“Oh? Oh no, I would love to eat with you!” I retorted, almost kicking myself at how eager my voice sounded just now.

I left him for a brief moment to grab my Chicken Marsala and the Merlot I abandoned at my table, then, grabbed a seat beside him. I couldn’t help but become almost captivated within his dark eyes, as I could feel myself falling deeper into them as we spoke. His deep, husky voice sending small shivers up my spine. He initiated the conservation, and we talked about a lot. I learned that he was divorced, like me, and he had a daughter in her twenties. Then he said something strange, something that sent chills up my arms and made the hair stand up on my neck.

“You know, you look really familiar… I’m sorry if I’m wrong, but, are you Vivienne Woodward’s daughter?”

I nearly choked on my chicken as my mom’s name came out of his mouth. I quickly got my food down, and gave him a very puzzled expression.

“You knew my mom?” Just mentioning her was starting to make me emotional again, but I suppressed the dry, sore feeling that was itching to crawl up my throat.

“I …“, the mysterious man stopped speaking and could hardly contain the look of disbelief written all over his face. “I used to work with your mom, at Mr. Bowen’s Bookstore. I know this sounds absurd, but she even tried to set us up at one point!” He laughed, shaking his head slightly, still trying to comprehend the situation.

I pondered for a moment, but I remembered it. One night when I was probably 18 years old, over dinner, my mom asked me if I had been interested in meeting a “kind, smart, and very handsome boy”, as she put it. I had declined her offer, as I had been talking to someone else at the time, and that said person eventually became my ex-husband. I didn’t even know what to say, all I could think of was how did his man even recognize me? And almost as if he was reading my thoughts, he spoke,

“When she asked me if I would be interested in her daughter, she showed me a photo of you. And… you still look as beautiful as you did all those years ago.”

I felt my face grow hot, and all I could muster was a shy “thank you”.

We continued to talk, and most of our conservation after realizing our connection to each other was about my mom. We reminisced about her, and all of her quirks, and stupid, sometimes out of line jokes that would shock you in the best way possible.

Before we knew it, the restaurant was closing, and we were being asked to leave. Our eyes locked, and I felt a surge of electricity throughout my body. It had been a very long time since I felt like this, and it felt good.

“I guess I should head back home now… It was really nice to meet you. I… I really enjoyed this.”

“Me too. We should do it again, maybe… next week, same place, same time?” He asked me, a sparkle in his eyes.

I smiled brightly and took him up on his offer. We also exchanged numbers, but I forgot one thing.

“Oh! What’s your name? I don’t think I got it?” I asked, just now realizing that I did not even get that crucial piece of information.

He laughed, “Yeah, I guess that would be nice to know. I’m Nikolas”

“I’m Scarlett.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said, as he tenderly grabbed one of my hands in one of his big ones, and delicately pressed his soft lips into the back of my hand.

No one had ever done that to me before.

After a few more moments together, we parted for the night. After he left, I couldn’t contain my happiness, as I had a continuous smile plastered on my face, and a racing heart. My brain was in overdrive, and my heart was nearly beating out of my chest, as I wondered what our next meeting would be like. I looked up at the night sky, and thanked my Mom for sending me this man with the glass of Meet Cute.