I felt almost invisible in the dining chair I sat in, watching my father and mother discuss their only child's marriage to a stranger I had never met. Oh, don't get me wrong, my parents love me. My dad adores me, I was and would always be his precious little girl and my mum, even though she had a strict façade; she would do anything for me. And I loved my parents in return, they were the most important people in my life and I would do anything for them also which brings me to why I accepted to be in this room with them. It's just that we were falling in difficult times and the Numeros were, well they were my family's saving grace. We weren't as wealthy as they were, not even a fraction as wealthy but we were comfortable but the economic crash was fast affecting my dad's factory.
I should be grateful, looking around the beautiful dining room exuding elegance and opulence; this would be my life very soon. I would be hosting expensive dinners, having business meetings with my 'to be husband's' business partners, pretending to love him unconditionally when in private we would be strangers.
The gleaming glass dining table surrounded by intricately designed chairs, upholstered in ornate fabric, their high backs adding a regal touch consisted of myself, my parents and Mr and Mrs Numero, guess who wasn't physically present at this dinner meeting discussing his marriage; Richard Jr. Lucky bastard.
"I am so sorry about Richard. He still says he is running late, my dear," Mrs Numero; warm and elegant said reassuringly, her radiant smile lightened my heart. I returned a faint unsure smile of my own. I was quite comfortable with Mrs Numero because I had known her since childhood albeit via video calls. She had been living abroad for as long as I can remember and only recently returned home to make sure her son got married right.
"It's alright, Nicky. We aren't in a hurry besides we aren't done with dinner yet. There is still time," trust my mother to make excuses for someone who clearly didn't deserve it. I shot her a dirty look beneath the lights from the grand chandelier with delicate gold accents that cast a warm, inviting glow around the room but she caught it and returned it with a scowl of her own. I immediately looked down at my bowl of Jollof rice, its colour hinting at the spicy, smoky flavours within. If I had to sit through this travesty, I might as well be properly and well fed.
"Don't make excuses for Junior, Abby," Mrs Numero waved her finger dismissively at my mom. She sat gracefully, her posture confident yet inviting. She turned to me and said, "I am not going to sit here and lie to you and tell you that my son is all rays of sunshine. But I love your family and the one thing I cannot trust my son with is to pick a proper wife that will reflect the values that this family stands for,"
"Nicky…" her husband reached for her hand, seeing his wife was getting upset. It was clear that Mr Numero loved his wife; the way he moved his hands towards hers to calm her down was instinctive, affectionate. Their relationship was quite similar to my parents'. The irony, both parties had marriages that stood the test of time because of love and they want to subject their kids to a life without it. But I kept my mouth shut and listened, maybe if I didn't meet 'Junior' today, I might learn a little about him.
"No! Richard, you spoilt him! Look what he is doing to his mother." She ran her hand through her neatly styled hair, which framed her face and drew attention to her sparkling eyes. 'Was she going to cry?' I panicked and shot a look at my parents again. I really do not want to be in this room right now but the golden roast turkey dominating the table was calling my name. I want to leave the room but I also really need to taste that turkey, just look at the glistening skin promising succulence. Call me your chef guys; I need to offer him my ovaries. Phew!
It might seem like I wasn't taking the current situation seriously seeing as I was more concerned about food. First of all, I love food. Let me rephrase; I love good food. Secondly, you all know mothers can be dramatic, right? My mother was a drama queen and as the saying goes; birds of the same feather flock together. So if my mum was a drama queen, what do you think her best friend and partner in crime would be? So, I was used to mother drama. It didn't faze me at all.
Mrs Numero continued to wail to her husband about how she should have stayed around to raise him right, to teach him to respect his elders and not embarrass her at every opportunity he got. I almost felt for Mr Numero, almost… but my dad was the same way. Oh well, they knew what they married into, they accepted it, they loved it. Mr Numero quickly excused himself to call his son and I caught my mum and her friend wink at each other. These women! Sheesh! I raised my head to sigh at the ornate mouldings of the ceiling, I just wanted some turkey but I didn't want to be the first to reach for it. It wasn't my house after all.
Just as if the heavens had decided to bless me, maybe because they had seen my predicament, they had seen the bleakness in my future and maybe they had heard the agents of darkness whispering 'she must suffer' in that shrewd almost chilling way, I heard Mrs Numero say the magic words, "have some turkey, darling,"
My mother stared me down but I pretended not to see her, I reached for the carving knife almost immediately. I was going to get an earful when I get home, but at least then I would have enough energy for her mama drama. I pulled the turkey tray closer, just as Mr Numero came back to the table, the smoky aroma mingling with the spices in the air, 'uh, come to mama!'
"Mr Richard Junior has arrived, ma'am. He is just pulling up into the garage," I heard the butler announce as he came into the room but who cares. I didn't notice the grateful smile Mrs Numero gave her husband or the combination of glare and scowl my mum kept trained on me nor the slight chuckle on my father's face knowing how well I appreciate food. I was polite, I carved out only a little portion of the turkey, (I'm not totally ill mannered) and carefully dropped it on my plate.
I could feel his presence the instant he stepped into the room, everyone turned to look at him. I know I said who cares earlier but I would be spending the rest of my life with this man I had never met. I didn't know if he was ugly, judging from his parents, there was a slight chance of that unless he was adopted. I didn't know if he was a good man, I knew literally nothing save his name; Richard Junior Numero. His name wasn't even exactly his, so out of sheer curiosity; I raised my head from my plate and looked up at him. And the only thing I could think was,
'WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!!!'