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perfectly on Jeffie’s
     plate, pulled the bun out of the toaster oven without a mitt, and her fingers didn’t feel a thing.
    “Come on, sweetie,” she called out to Jeffie, then did a little dance step as she pulled a container of yogurt out of the
     fridge for herself. “Hon,” Michael had called her. I’ll be home all evening, he’d said very clearly. Not on a date. Home all
     evening. Probably brooding over her. Probably realizing what a colossal error he’d made by ending it with her, hurting her,
     letting a woman like her go.
    He had, after all, been the one who was so madly in love. Insisted, even though they weren’t kids anymore, that they have
     a huge engagement party. What a party it was too. At their favorite Italian restaurant on a Monday night when the place was
     closed to the public, with every friend either of them had in attendance. An evening filled with romantic surprises, her favorite
     flowers on every table, a five-piece band that played only old love songs. And the ring.
    “Hey, Mahh,” Jeffie said, biting into his burger. “Any chips?”
    R.J. put the yogurt down and went to the pantry for the chips. The ring that had belonged to Michael’s late grandmother. His
     mother’s beloved mother who had left it to Michael’s mother, Sadie, who had kept it in a littlejewelry box on the top shelf of her closet. The ring Sadie Rappaport had promised Michael from the time he was a little boy,
     the ring she would give to him for his fiancée when he grew up and fell in love.
    “Regular or taco?”
    “Taco,” Jeffie said. R.J. brought the whole bag to the table.
    Just after everyone had finished the perfect Italian feast, Michael had made a toast to the woman who had made him the happiest
     luckiest man in the world, “my beautiful R.J.,” and Dinah had cried and R.J. remembered being a little weepy, too, with relief,
     and Michael’s older sister Sarah, who everyone said practically raised him, was dabbing at her eyes too. Everyone was surprised
     when the mother of the about-to-be groom, Sadie Rappaport, stood and tapped on her wineglass with her knife. She was so tiny
     that some of the people who were sitting at tables in the back couldn’t even see her as she began her speech.
    “I’m sixty-four years old,” she began, then added with a twinkle in her eye, “although I’m sure I look much younger.” Everyone
     applauded, and someone yelled, “Hear, Hear.”
    “So far I’ve had a terrific life. My Harold, may he rest in peace, was a good provider. And even though I lost him too soon,
     I managed to live a nice life anyhow, and have mostly anything that I want. But one thing I’ve never had was a daughter-in-law.”
     Everyone laughed. Sadie paused for the laugh just long enough, and R.J. remembered thinking that her future mother-in-law’s
     timing was better than Patsy’s.
    “Because,” Sadie went on, loving her own performance, “my son was too picky. Now, thank God, he decided enough was enough
     and he’ll break down and marry R.J.” Everyone laughed again. “So, Mikie, honey,” she said—and now she sounded like Ralph Edwards
     telling the guest on
This Is Your Life
which person from his past was about to emerge from behind the screen—“here is the surprise your mother has promised you
     all your life.” And at that, Sadie pulled a ring box out of the purse that was standing next to her plate on the table.
    “Ahhhs” went up from everywhere. Everyone, especially the women, craned their necks to see what the surprise was. Sadie turned
     to Michael and looked deep into herson’s eyes. “With
my
love for
your
love,” she said. Michael stood and hugged her, and the man and his mother remained locked in a tearful embrace that was applauded
     by everyone, especially R.J., who at that moment remembered being told: “You can tell a lot about a man by the way he treats
     his mother.” But Sadie had been sitting between R.J. and Michael at the round table, and