The moment Ellie burst through my front door, I knew something had shifted. My daughter had always been a whirlwind of energy, but today there was something different in her eyes—a feverish sort of joy that made my stomach tighten inexplicably.
“Mom!” she called, dropping her bag by the entryway, something I’d been asking her not to do since she was twelve. “Where are you? I have news!”
I wiped my hands on a dish towel and stepped out of the kitchen, where I’d been preparing Sunday dinner. My husband Robert looked up from his newspaper in the living room, eyebrows raised in silent question.
“In here, sweetheart,” I called, trying to keep my voice light despite the sudden unease churning inside me.
Ellie appeared, her cheeks flushed, dark hair tumbling around her shoulders. At twenty-four, she had grown into a beautiful young woman, her features a perfect blend of Robert’s strong jawline and my softer eyes. But today, there was something almost manic in her expression that reminded me of her teenage years—impulsive decisions followed by inevitable regret.
“You’re never going to believe this,” she said, practically bouncing on her toes. “I’m getting married!”
The dish towel slipped from my fingers.
“Married?” Robert echoed, setting his newspaper aside and standing. “To whom?”
“To Jason, of course!” Ellie held out her left hand, where a sizable diamond caught the afternoon light.
Jason. The name barely registered. Ellie had only mentioned him once or twice in passing over the last few weeks. A guy she’d met at a friend’s gallery opening. Someone new in town. I hadn’t even met him yet.
“How long have you been seeing this Jason?” I asked carefully, bending to retrieve the fallen towel to hide the concern I knew must be written across my face.
“Six weeks,” Ellie replied, her smile not dimming in the slightest. “I know what you’re thinking, Mom. That it’s too soon. But when you know, you know, right? Like you and Dad.”
Robert and I exchanged glances. We had dated for three years before getting engaged. There was nothing impulsive about our relationship.
“Sweetheart,” I began, choosing my words carefully. “Six weeks is a very short time to know someone well enough to make a lifetime commitment.”
Ellie’s smile faltered slightly. “I knew you’d say that. That’s why I didn’t tell you right away. We’ve actually been engaged for two weeks already.”
That stung more than I wanted to admit. My daughter, keeping such a significant decision secret for two weeks? We had always been close. Until now, apparently.
“Well,” Robert said, crossing the room to give Ellie a hug, ever the diplomat. “This is certainly a surprise. When do we get to meet this young man?”
“Tonight, actually,” Ellie said, her smile returning full force. “He’s picking me up at seven. We’re having dinner with his parents to celebrate. I just wanted to tell you first, in person.”
My mind raced ahead, calculating. That gave us less than three hours to process this bombshell before meeting the man who had, in just six weeks, convinced my level-headed daughter to agree to marriage.
“I’d like to freshen up before dinner,” Ellie continued, already heading toward the staircase that led to her old bedroom, which we’d kept largely untouched since she’d moved into her own apartment two years ago. “Oh, and Mom? Don’t worry so much. Jason is perfect. You’re going to love him.”
