It should have been a typical Wednesday night dinner at my older sister’s house, but that afternoon I got a very atypical phone call. It was my older sister and her news stunned me into an uncharacteristic silence for a moment. I cleared my throat before I spoke. “A boyfriend? She’s bringing her boyfriend?” My older sister spoke for another minute and I gulped. “And it’s serious?” I asked.
When I learned my middle sister was bringing her new boyfriend to dinner; I could not have been more surprised if I had been told she had taken up square dancing, or bungee jumping ; she has been a widow for over eight years and now, in her late 50’s, it never even occurred to me that there might be another man in her future. “That’s great,” I told my older sister but my voice lacked conviction.
“See you at 8,” said my older sister, adding, “Please don’t be a total douche when you meet him.”
I was offended. “I’ll just be a partial douche,” I said. “Happy?” And I hung up.
My middle sister and Judson were already at my older sister’s house when my partner and I arrived and after the initial pleasantries there was an awkward silence. Judson cleared his throat and smiled. “Let the interrogation begin!” he said. He didn’t have to ask me twice; since our father is dead I felt the need to protect my dear sister from the perils of a man who I assumed was a predatory suitor.
“Judson is an interesting name,” I began casually and he nodded, telling me it was his mother’s maiden name. This was a good sign: Everyone knows that a man whose first name is his mother’s maiden name generally has a good, solid portfolio, and perhaps a trust fund or two.
“How long have you been divorced?” I asked him next and he told me his wife had died several years earlier. He told me that he and my sister had known each other since college but lost touch until they ran into each other at Starbucks several months earlier.
I next learned that Judson had three grown sons: Bad, bad sign. Everyone knows that a child is like an albatross around the neck of a parent; one albatross can ruin a new relationship, and he had three. I sighed; my worst expectations were being realized.
“Three sons?” I asked. “How many are in jail?” My partner was horrified but Judson never batted an eyelash.
“None of them are in jail,” he said.
“Really?” I asked. “Are they on parole?”
“No,” he said emphatically. “They’ve never been in jail. They’re good kids.”
This took the wind right out of my sails. “Are they in rehab?” I asked dejectedly and Judson shook his head “No”.
I next learned that Judson was an only child and this was a very good sign. “Your parents were very wise,” I told him. “Siblings can be more trouble than they’re worth.”
“Some more than others,” said my middle sister coldly, but I ignored her.
It was only natural that next I inquired about Judson’s parents and he told me he had lost both of them years ago. This was both a bad sign and a good sign. It was a bad sign because I hate when people say they “lost” their parents — it sounds like something Little Bo Peep would do. But, not to be cold, but I considered it a good sign that they were lost: Elderly parents can wreck a new relationship even faster than grown children can.
Judson next told me he took early retirement after a career in insurance and that he had a house in Boca. This was my “A-ha!” moment.
“East or West Boca?” I asked.
“East of Federal,” said Judson and I have to admit I was relieved: very good sign.
I sipped some Diet Coke, deep in thought and Judson gave my middle sister a reassuring smile. My older sister was clearly wishing she could rescind my dinner invitation and my horrified partner was nowhere to be seen; I discovered later he was under the bed with the cats.
Suddenly, from beyond the grave, I could hear my mother’s voice clear as a bell. “After retirement men only want a nurse or a purse,” Mom was saying. Judson clearly did not need a purse, so there was only one alternative.
“How many prescription medications do you take?” I asked him, refusing to make eye contact with my sister, and he told me he took two, one for high blood pressure and one for cholesterol. This was a good sign, because if he had told me he was on no meds I would have assumed he was lying anyway. “I also gave up smoking 30 years ago,” he said helpfully,
I paused; this was going so well I debated whether or not I needed to play my trump card. I decided to play it:
“How often do you have your teeth cleaned?” I asked out of the blue. My sister went pale and my older sister joined my partner under the bed, but I didn’t care: Show me a man who takes care of his teeth and I’ll show you a man who will be healthy til he’s 100.
“Every three months,” said Judson, and now, finally, I was impressed. Spontaneously I gave him a hug.
“Brother!” I said. “Welcome to the family!”