I follow mom back into the kitchen where she slips the apron over her head and ties it at the back behind her slender waist.
“It smells so good.” I say, sliding onto the highchair I pull from beneath the kitchen counter.
“Honey let’s not dance around the things we need to say - I’m really worried about this engagement thing. You haven’t even got to know the man. I don’t know anything about him. It’s far too soon.”
My jaw clenches tightly for a second and I take a slow breath before I answer.
“Mom, I was never one to believe in fairy tales. I’m too stubborn for that rubbish. Too grounded or levelheaded. You raised me to be hyper aware of everything that could go wrong - the things I had to be careful of - you know?”
She nods, scrunching her nose. “You make me sound like a terrible mother.” She huffs.
“No, not at all. You are the most amazing mother I could ever have asked for. What I’m trying to say is that you taught me how to see the bad in people so that they couldn’t hide it. You taught me how to see through their games and their lives and their bullshit?—”
She’s starting to understand. “Ok—” she says slowly.
“So - yes, I’ve only known him for a short time, but we are very close, and I know his darkness as well as I know his light. He has nothing more to hide from me. I know who he is, and I love him anyway and he knows who I am, and he loves me anyway. Mom, I’mreallyhappy.”
She is quiet for a long time, carefully laying sheets of lasagna into a glass dish and coating layers of mince between them. I watch her and let her think, waiting, trying my best to be patient.
After a long time, she tilts her head towards me. “What about your work? Will you keep your job with the couple whose house you’re taking care of?”
A wave of tension ripples through me.
Now is not the time to tell her the truth about all of that. One battle at a time forthisday. I’ll come clean about the fact that the old couple never existed, and it was Vincent all along - after the wedding.
“No, I won’t keep my job because my fiancé has given me a really crazy wedding gift.” I grin.
Her brows are knotted when she turns to look at me. “What does that mean? Keeping your job is a security you can’t afford to lose. What if he wants a divorce in a year and you are left on the street? Be smart about this, Misha.”
I giggle. “Wait, just listen to what I have to tell you.”
My mother leans over the oven and slides the lasagna into it, then closes the door and turns to look at me with disapproval on her face. “Alright. I’m listening.” She says with her hand on her hip.
Her eyes grew wide with shock as I explained the wedding contract. She was left speechless, in shock, completely and utterly in disbelief.
At the end of my story, she’s still just staring at me like I’ve made up some crazy things.
“Mom?” I laugh.
“Who the hell is this man? What does he do?”
“He’s retired.” I take a deep breath. “Heusedto be involved in the mafia.” I say carefully. This was one thing I knew I would not lie to her about.
“Oh, no, honey—” She whimpers.
“He’sretiredmom, He’s not involved anymore. You don’t have anything to worry about.”
“It sounds like I have everything to worry about - but - is he putting those properties into your name. Not joint names. Just yours?”
I nod.
She bites her lip. “So, you will have a lot of security - and you can leave if you want to and not worry about your future.”
“Yes, I can leave if I want to. But mom I won’t want to. Ilove him.” I laugh, finally sensing that I’m getting through to her, that I’m pulling her to my side.
She rolls her eyes and folds a dishcloth with agitation. She sets it down on the kitchen counter and starts laughing as she straightens out the edges. It’s a nervous, tense laugh, but with mild acceptance drifting in it.
“Misha, you drive me crazy, you know that right? But I’m just going to trust you on this one. I really do want you to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”
