And she looked at me — on a doorstep, on a Monday afternoon — and said:

“If you love my son, you should think about what you can actually offer him at this stage of his life.”

I have been asked what I said back and the honest answer is nothing.

Nothing at all.

I stood there.

Clara stepped in front of me and opened the door wider and said, “Ma’am, you need to get off my porch.”

Gertrude turned and went down the two steps and then turned around at the bottom.