I stared at Mother with a knife held in my hand. “Why can’t you just ask about him? I’ll tell you how wonderful he is, how he cares about me, how he notices people and looks them in the eye when they talk, how he reaches for my hand at the exact right moment, how he never judges others, how his best friends would do anything for him because they know he would do anything for them.”

Mother tossed a pile of potatoes into the boiling water. Her back was to me. “What does he want to do with his life?”

“He’s a history major.”

“What the hell’s he gonna do with that?” She spun around and glared at me.

“Mother, my God, it’s the same major as mine.”

“What could he possibly do? It’s different for you, Ellie.”

“Different?”

“Yes.”

I turned to walk out of the kitchen when I heard her. “You need to find someone more appropriate.”

I stopped with my hand flat on the swinging kitchen door. “Appropriate?” I turned to face Mother. “I love him. Isn’t that appropriate enough?”

“No, Ellie, it’s not. I wish it were, but it isn’t.”

At dinner, after a few glasses of red wine, Mother turned to Hutch and asked, “So tell me about your people, son. I know you’re from Alabama, but really that’s all our Ellie has told us.”

“I’m from a small town outside Mobile called Linden. Not even sure you can find it on a map.” He smiled at Mother, but his charm and humor had as little effect as an ant on an elephant.

Hutch looked to me, and I rolled my eyes. This was the one and only subject I was hoping to avoid. I almost would have preferred the “Are you having sex?” conversation.

“Well,” Mother said, taking another long swallow of wine. “What does your daddy do in Linden?”

Hutch didn’t answer Mother for a longer time than was comfortable and then looked her directly in the eye. “Whatever he can. Usually works on cars.”

“Oh.” There was a triumphant note to Mother’s voice. If there were subtitles to her words, they would say to me, “I told you so.”

“And your mama?” she asked.

“She’s been ill, ma’am.”

“With?”

“The drink, usually.”

“Mother,” I said sharply.

“What?” She glared at me. “I’m just trying to find out about his life.”

Hutch took my hand and squeezed it. “I grew up in that small town in a double-wide trailer and worked my way to Auburn, where I’m studying history and hope to work in a museum or library system. I moved to Auburn and fell in love with the most adorable and miraculous girl I’ve ever met, and here I am. Really, ma’am, that’s all there is to it. A simple story about rural Alabama. Nothing that interesting.”