New Year’s Eve morning began early for Hope. Her private line ringing startled her out of a much needed slumber, but forgetting the three hour time difference, Hope dove for the receiver expecting to hear Lisa’s voice on the other end. “Hi, Mom, how is the honeymoon going?”
Hope was startled to hear Michael’s irritated voice on the other end of the line, “Hope, it is me. Something has come up and I will not be able to escort you to that New Year’s Eve bash after all. There is some out-of-town business that just came up and I will be gone for three days.”
The flat tone of his voice, coupled with this obviously practiced little speech, caused Hope to questioned him, “Michael, what kind of out-of-town business could you possibly have over New Year’s?”
The tone in his voice became angry and impatient and Hope immediately knew she had crossed the line. “What do you know about my business? How dare you question my motives. I do not answer to you.”
Uncharacteristically, Hope took the safety of this phone call to voice one of her long standing issues. “I know, Michael. You only answer to your mother, right? And by the way, I did not say a word about your motives, but now that you mention them, should I be worried?”
“Hope, I don’t know what has gotten into you lately, but I don’t like it. You used to be such a cooperative partner but now you question everything I do. I have a lot of responsibilities on me and I cannot have you second-guessing my every move. We are getting married in three months and then we go right into the main season of my campaign run. I will not tolerate a wife of mine not giving me her absolute support. Do you hear me, Hope?”
“Then maybe we should consider postponing the wedding for now. I have no control over the trial back in Georgia and you seem to be so focused on your business you don’t really have any time for me anyway.” Hope stopped short of making this a clean break. She so wanted to just scream “forget it,” but then who would be there for him in his time of need?
“Hope, there is no postponing of this wedding. Why is that always your come-back? Eight months ago you couldn’t wait to become Mrs. Michael Gundersol. We were supposed to get married last weekend, remember? But then you decided to take off and go looking for your long lost birth mother, something all of us warned you against. But, oh no, Hope knew better. I have put up with all of your stubborn, willful behavior, believing you just needed to grow up a little, but I am done with it. You better come to your senses and join the team or else.”
“Or else what; will you call off the wedding? I doubt that. And, are we not talking about our wedding and marriage here? So what team am I supposed to join, the Gundersol political team, perhaps? I don’t believe I am cut out for your family business. I cannot face a lifetime of this.” Taking a deep breath and steadying herself, Hope finally stated the obvious, “Michael, I still care about you, but I no longer want to marry you. The cost is way too high for its benefits. You need someone who likes the Gundersol lifestyle; I do not. So, Michael, you are free and so am I. The wedding is off.” The absolute wash of freedom at saying these words out loud surprised and energized Hope. There was nothing he could say that would dissuade her from calling off this wedding so Hope simply placed the receiver back in the cradle and ended their last conversation. Checking the time, Hope decided to jump into the shower before calling Grandma Reiner. She knew her grandmother would be pleased that she had finally called off the wedding and could not wait to share the news with her.
As Hope was drying off she heard the house phone ringing and wondered who would be calling this time of morning; five minutes later that answer was obvious. Hope stepped out of the bathroom right into the face of her mother. “Hope, what is this about you calling off the wedding?”
Pushing past her and heading toward her bedroom, Hope responded, “Mother, I see Estelle wasted no time putting you to work this morning.”
“Of course Estelle would call me with this kind of news,” Jean’s response was both defensive and angry. “What are you thinking, Hope? You are ruining your chance of a great future with Michael. That man is going places and he wants to share that journey with you as his wife.”
“No, he doesn’t, Mother, and that’s the point. He does not know how to share. He does not share his business, his goals, his dreams, and certainly not his emotions. I have tried to be understanding. I know his mother rules that family with an iron fist,” then turning toward her mother, Hope added, “among other people, but I am convinced that he really does not love me.”
“That is absolutely preposterous, Hope. He has stood by you for two years, waiting for you to grow up enough to take you as his bride. We have all tried to be patient while you took off and looked for your birth mother. He understood how important that was to you, didn’t he? We changed the wedding date to accommodate you, remember? Estelle told me that her son is devastated over this. He loves you, Hope. Michael is still a young man, even though he has all this responsibility riding on his shoulders. What is it that you want from him? Don’t you think you are being just a little bit selfish?”
“Mother, I know he is under a lot of strain right now. I also know how much pressure Estelle puts on him as well. The idea of that woman controlling and dominating my life from now on is intolerable to me. I always felt my job was to make him feel loved and cared for—-for himself —not just because he is a Gundersol. I’ve watched how his parents treat him, how they demand so much more from him than he is actually capable of doing. I know someone has to love that man and show him he has worth beyond the family checkbook. You and Estelle convinced me that was my job and I tried, I really did.”
Jean pleaded, “Hope, he is a wonderful man. If I were willing to have a talk with Estelle about backing off a little and giving you two some time to work things out, would you at least consider giving him another chance?”
“A chance to do what, Mother, give him ten more chances to show me all the ways he doesn’t respect me or my opinions? How about ten more ways he can show me he doesn’t love me?” Deciding to put all her cards on the table, Hope added, “Mother, do you realize that he and I have seriously dated for two years and he has never even tried to make a move on me? Do you realize that I have been engaged for a year and that I am still a virgin? About a year ago I was actually convinced that he might be gay, but one night when he had had too much to drink, he told me about an affair he had during college; as a matter of fact he got rather graphic about it and I found myself feeling rather jealous of the girl. Either he was lying then or he is lying now, either way, I have never been the beneficiary of his physical affection.”
Not knowing how to respond to this level of honesty from her daughter, Jean scrambled for something to say. “Hope, maybe Michael is just trying to show you, his future wife, the honor and respect you deserve. Maybe the fact that he is showing such self-control is exactly the way he is showing you how much he does love you. Maybe that kind of self-control is why he gets so irritable with you sometimes. Did you ever think of it that way?”
“No, it never occurred to me that he was doing that, Mother. So if that is true, then Estelle is not the only woman in his life who is putting undue pressure on him. Maybe that is why he was so angry when we had to postpone the wedding. Could that be why he withdraws from me whenever I try to get physical with him?”
“Maybe, Hope. Don’t you think you owe it to him to reconsider this? I will talk to Estelle and you talk to Michael, okay?”
As Jean closed the door behind her, Hope fell onto her bed in tears and cried, “Just fifteen minutes of freedom, that is all I had.” Hope longed to return to the shower, if only to experience a few more moments of that wonderful feeling of self-determination. “Why is it my job to rescue him? Why must I be the bigger person here? Why does my mother seem to care more about his future than her own daughter’s?”
Sitting up on her bed, Hope replayed the conversation with her mother. “She will talk with Estelle, right. When has Estelle ever listened to my mother? Even if she is successful, that won’t last long, not with that woman.” Casting her gaze on the telephone next to her bed, Hope decided not to call her grandmother today; after all, she had nothing good to report.