Page 58 of A Sixpence For Your Shoe

“You got a raise?” she says happily.

I laugh. “No, mom, bigger than that.”

“Oh, honey please don’t tell me you’re pregnant.” She sighs, her voice heavy with disappointment.

I huff, getting annoyed. “Stop that, Mom. Just listen. I complain.

“Ok, sorry, yes - go ahead.” She says before falling silent.

I roll my eyes and push away the nervous streak of tension that creeps over me.

“Mom, I got engaged," I say, trying to sound as excited as I genuinely am—but telling my mother is harder than I thought it would be.

“What?” She snaps.

“I got engaged, Mom. He asked me to marry him.”

“But—honey—I haven’t even met him. I don’t even know his name. What—why—I don’t—this is a terrible idea.”

I bite down hard on my lip.

“Can’t you just be happy for me? You’ll meet him before the wedding and then you’ll be at the wedding to celebrate with me. Just be happy for me mom.” I plead.

“Misha, you’ve caught me completely by surprise. I - I don’t know what to say. You don’t even know this man. You’ve only just met him.”

“Say you’rehappy for me.” I huff.

“I can’t—” She says tensely.

“Oh.” I say, my heart sinking.

“Sweetheart - just - um - when can you come see me. Let’s talk about this in person.”

“Mom, it’s happening either way. I love him. I am marrying him with or without your blessing.” This is the first time in my life I have ever spoken to my mom like this, and it hurts. It sets a deep ache in my heart to disrespect her in this way. She is my everything. But I guess it’s time - it’s time for me to live my life - not hers.

“Misha.” She says softly. “I just want what’s best for you.”

I sigh.

“I know you do, mom. I promise you’ll love him. He’s a good man. You’ll see when you meet him. And I’m happy, Mom—isn’t that what matters the most?”

“Will you keep your job?” She asks nervously. “Just because you’re getting married doesn’t mean you should rely on him for everything.”

I chew at my lip. She still doesn’t know anything. I’ve got a lot to tell you. I’ll come around later this week. The wedding is this weekend. I’ve got a lot of planning to do.”

“Ok, sweetheart.” Her words feel heavy.

“I love you, mom. try to be happy for me.”

She laughs, distant and nervous. “Ok, Misha. I will. Come and see me soon.”

The call ends and I stare at the pancake burning in the pan. It begins to smoke and turn charred black, and I continue to watch it. It’s silly to be so hurt by her reaction, because I knew she wouldn’t be on board right away. But it still hurts. It hurts more than I thought it would. I want her to be a part of my new life - of my new family.

Smoke spills thicker and darker from the pan, and I grab the handle, tossing the entire thing across the kitchen in a fit of angry disappointment.

Flicking the stove off I march out of there, heading towards the shower. I’m not in the mood for pancakes anymore.

While I’m showering, I catch sight of the ring, glittering.

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