Letting herself into her son's apartment, she carried the suit she bought for him to wear to the fundraiser a few days later. Even though he'd repeatedly asked her to do so, she hadn't called ahead. The sound of the shower running could be heard from the open stairs she ascended without even announcing her presence in someone else's home. Likewise, there was no announcement or hesitation as she entered his bedroom.
She put the suit into his closet and turned to leave the room. It is only then that she noticed his bed was not empty. A young woman, a very young woman, was asleep. With her arms above the sheets and one leg visible from the edge, it was fairly obvious she was nude. A number of expressions crossed the woman's face before she left the room.
As calm and quiet as she'd been before, she returned to the main floor and sat on the couch, waiting to hear the water stop. Giving him an additional minute to get out of the shower, she called him on the phone. He didn't answer. She dialed again. No answer. She dialed a third time and he answered.
"Hello," he said casually as though he had not just ignored her previous two calls.
"I'm dropping your suit off at your apartment," she declared and ended the call before he could respond.
She could hear a rush of activity from the enclosed loft level of the apartment. Suddenly his heavy footfalls were on the steel steps and just as suddenly they were silent.
"Mother." He was taken aback by her presence in his living room. "When did you arrive?" He walked down the remainder of the stairs at a normal pace.
"I spoke in the present tense, did I not?" Her voice was even colder than normal.
"Yes, you did. Hand me the suit. I'll hang it." Used to finding himself on the receiving end of her irritation, he didn't let her mood get to him.
"I've already done that."
The realization of what that must have meant hit him in the gut. "Shit," he exclaimed with a wince.
"Watch your language," she chastised him the same way as when he was a teenager.
"Mother, this is why I keep asking you to call before you come."
"You do not get to lecture me right now," she raised her voice momentarily before turning it back to ice. "She looks young."
"She's not too young, though. Let me get her Mother, you'll like her."
Returning a few minutes later, he made his way downstairs holding the hand of the young woman who had been sleeping in his bed not long ago.
"Which college are you at? The same one as my son or somewhere else in the city?" Mother asked the young woman before her foot touched the final step.
"She hasn't started yet," her son volunteered.
"W--" the normally staid woman started to protest.
"But she was accepted into a bunch of good schools. Alaris U, Yale, UCLA, Duke, and more."
The true meaning of his statement that the girl was not "too young" hit her, but she regained her composure. "What will you study?"
"She--"
"I did not ask you." Each word was enunciated crisply.
"I plan to go to medical school." The girl finally spoke up.
"I suppose that's acceptable. Which school will you pick?"
"I'm not sure." She looked apologetic as she spoke.
"Why not? It's nearly the end of April. The decision deadline is fast approaching. What does your family say?"
"I haven't picked because there are so many factors to consider for the long term. And my family... well, my family isn't really in the picture anymore."
"How unfortunate. Accept them all and buy yourself a few extra months to contemplate."
"That would be nice, bu--"
Suddenly gripping the shoulders of his girlfriend, he cut in, "Thank you for the advice Mother. That's a good idea."
"I would like to meet you again, in a more appropriate setting. I will call and set something up. I'll leave for now." Mother rose and walked to the door. She didn't look back or say another word.
"Wow. That went better than expected given the circumstances." He raked his hands through his wet hair.
"That was good?" She pointed towards the door with her mouth still slightly open out of shock.
"For my mother? Yes. But she's right, though. You should accept all the schools and make a real decision later." Moving closer, he put his arm around her waist.
"I can't do that, I don't have the money for it." She leaned her head on his shoulder.
He pressed his lips gently on her head as he spoke. "Don't worry about it. I'll pay the deposits."
"If you do, then I'll have to show you some more of my appreciation." Taking her turn of running hands through his wet hair, she led him to the couch his mother had just been sitting on.
Though he'd expected a lecture, his mother said nothing further on the matter the next few times they communicated. So when she called one day in early June, he answered it in his usual manner. "Hello Mother."
"Please tell your young lady to meet me at Chadwick's of London on Saturday. We'll have tea at three."
"Yes, Mother. But Mother," he risked taking a stern tone, "please be nice to her. That's the girl I'm going to marry."
"I'm always nice." She disconnected the call.
Mother arrived at Chadwick's exactly five minutes before her reservation time. The maitre'd showed her to her table immediately. She walked across the room, nodding to people she knew along the way. Their eyes obviously lingered as they evaluated her wardrobe, a simple fitted sheath dress in a shade of soft pink that complimented her skin tone. There was nothing ostentatious about it, but any of the women who were in her class would recognize the designer by the small details. Her jewelry was also simple, but expensive. The diamonds were not elaborate, but they glinted in the light. The middle of the afternoon in a teahouse is not the place to be showy.
Ten minutes later she spotted her son's girlfriend being led across the dining area. The young woman wore a deep coral sundress consisting of a slip under a sheer swiss dot layer. A delicate gold necklace graced her neck and flat leather sandals that wrapped and tied around her slim ankles. Her hair was styled into soft waves that framed her face. She wore makeup as well. Enough that it was obvious even from a distance, but muted and subtle shades. Mother deemed the overall look as appropriate to the occasion.
"What a lovely dress," she cooed as the girl sat down. "Where did you get it?"
The girl raised a hand and ran a finger along the shoulder seam. "It's nothing special, just from J. Crest, but I'm glad you like it."
There was a recent debit to J. Crest on her son's credit card as Mother recalled from her morning's preparations.
"I can see why he likes you. You're very beautiful. You're also tall and shapely. Have you considered modeling or acting?" she asked enthusiastically.
"No, I've never thought about modelling and if the school drama club taught me anything it's that I'm not a good actress." She laughed lightly.
"I see. Well, I think it's clear that I've asked you to join me so that I can learn more about you. But it's not your past that concerns me so much as your future. Tell me about your plans for life," Mother said as she sipped her tea. She had been served promptly at three.
"First, I'll get my undergrad, then I'll go to medical school. I haven't thought much beyond that since that process will take so many years."
"Speaking of, have you decided which school to attend?"
"Not yet. I took your previous advice and accepted a place at each school."
Mother had also noticed those charges on her son's credit card statements.
"I'm still considering all the pros and cons. Of course, staying here has the biggest 'pro' of them all."
"What specialty do you plan to enter?" Mother watched the way the girl took food from the tiered tray.
"I don't want to tie myself down too early, but I've been thinking about pediatric orthopedics."
"Hmm. Any area of medicine is a noble profession. I'd like to point something out to you though."
"What's that?" Her tone was nonchalant as she focused more on her food than on Mother.
"I gather you weren't aware of my son's background when you began dating, but you understand his family position now. Don't you?"
"Yes, somewhat." It was noted that she ate about half of one of the small sandwiches in one bite.
"When you operate at the pinnacle of the business world, you're judged on all aspects of your life. Your family, your spouse, your children, are all factored into your business reputation. It's old fashioned and unfair, but it is how it works. Just the fact that he is my son makes him sought after among the other top families." Mother took a sip of tea.
"However, he will one day inherit controlling shares and become chairman of a multi-billion dollar corporation. This makes him a highly prized commodity. He will be heavily pursued and will be free to take his pick among a number of beautiful, talented, accomplished, and wealthy women."
Nodding along as she listened, she wasn't bothered by hearing something she'd already assumed. "He loves me," she stated matter of factly then bit into a scone.
"Love is not everything," Mother commented with a matching tone. "Women from families similar to ours will be able to provide support to him that your family background lacks. You have to be sure you can measure up and be their equals so he does not end up regretting his choice. Can you do that?" She was careful to make the question sound supportive rather than challenging.
The young woman straightened her back and flipped her hair behind her shoulder. She gave Mother a smug look. "I know how to make him happy."
The older, conservative woman didn't appreciate the attitude or the implication, but she continued in the manner she'd planned on presenting. "You know how to make him happy now, while he's young and being given the freedom of living off an allowance while he plays around with his computers. But will you know how to make him happy ten years from now when he's running his father's company under high pressure and intense scrutiny?"
The young woman's self-satisfied smile faltered.
"Being a doctor is noble, but you'll need to become someone who's outstanding in their field to measure up to your competition. You'll need to cure some major disease or invent a revolutionary medical device. If you can't do that, become a celebrity doctor. Pick a specialty that caters to the wealthy and make yourself famous so the masses will listen to you. Whichever route you pick, you'll learn for yourself what it's like to be at the top. This will help you to really understand his position as someone who is sought after, but carries the weight of importance on his shoulders. Only then will you be his equal."
The girl set down her teacup and looked directly into the eyes of her boyfriend's domineering parent. "Yes, Mother. I understand. I appreciate your advice and will strongly consider what you've said."
"That's good. I will check in with you later."
The two finished their afternoon with idle chatter about hobbies, travel, and style and parted ways pleasantly.