I never saw that money again.
When my sister Lucy met Jessica at a family dinner, she pulled me aside into the kitchen.
“Catherine, that girl has the face of a gold digger,” she whispered while we washed the dishes. “Did you see how she looks at the house like she is appraising it?”
“Lucy, you have always been suspicious,” I replied, annoyed. “Jessica is a good girl. Matt is happy.”
“All right,” my sister sighed. “But when things get ugly, remember that I warned you.”
I did not listen to her. I defended Jessica when Lucy made comments. Even when my daughter Valerie, who lived in Texas, called me worried.
“Mom, I investigated Jessica on social media. She has photos in super expensive restaurants, trips to Hawaii, designer clothes. Where does she get the money if she’s barely starting her business?”
“Valerie, do not be a gossip,” I told her. “Social media does not show the full reality.”
Six months after that first meeting, Matt announced they were getting married.
“It was fast, I know,” he said. “But when you know, you know. And Mom, Jessica is the love of my life.”
