It is almost Christmas. The holiday season is mostly about family, fun and food. Everyone seems to be in a good mood. I want to have a wonderful Christmas, and more than that, I want my family to have a wonderful Christmas. Which was why it broke me as I gathered them that morning, that I would be the first person to ruin the festivities for them. Their faces were full of smiles as they looked on at me, waiting to hear what the star daughter of the family had to say.
That was the thing about being the star of the family. You were placed on an impossible pedestal. From being their intellectual scholar who won academic prizes, their star handball player who’d bagged scholarships through college, and now an attorney who was leading the city division by storm. When I'd introduced Dave to them, Mom had looked me in the eyes and said,
“You’ve always been my perfect baby girl. And now you bring the perfect man to us. I didn’t expect anything less.”
And they were right. Dave was indeed the perfect man. Maybe too perfect but I hadn’t seen that yet. He was a reflection of everything my parents I wanted. A tall, dark, dashing neurosurgeon. He had the height and the looks that Mom would usually call, "a dude." He was smart, as expected, and cracked endless jokes that made Mom blush and made Dad pat him fondly on the back.
Dad already started calling him, “my son,” as a way of approval. Above all, he had cash rolling in like he was the one creating them. When I called to inform them that he had proposed and I had accepted. They sounded happier than I was. My left ear still rang sometimes from their deafening screams of delight.
They included him in everything. It was like I couldn’t say a word without Dave’s name being mentioned at least fifty times. For goodness sake, Mom even called him so he could drive her to the grocery store. And we had three drivers! I admit that I was thrilled that my parents adored my fiancée. Their approval was something that had guided practically all my life choices. I did everything I could do they would always be happy.
But as common with all the perfect ones, they would soon enough begin to show their claws. It started when I came home late from a gruelling court session with my client. I’d called Dave in my customary way. At that time, I ignored the fact that since the day began, he hadn’t as much as called to ask how things were going.
When he picked up the call on the third ring, his first statement was, “It seems like you would have to stop this job of yours once we get married.” I’d been too stunned to speak and he continued, “I mean, I make more money anyway and I don’t like the fact that you’re not usually available if I need something. No pressure, but just know we need to do something about it.”
I wasn’t dumb. I knew in that moment that our relationship was more or less over. I had always gushed about how much I loved my career. He knew that it had been my dream from childhood and now, he carelessly brandished the who makes more card in front of me. The scenes began to play in my head. Everything I’d read and watched in books and movies. Of ladies who became furniture because they allowed a man dictate their dreams. Maybe it wasn’t a good enough reason for most, but over coffee the very next day, and to his shock and mocking amusement, I ended things with Dave. The peace I felt afterwards was enough confirmation that I’d made the right choice.
“Trace, baby. We’re waiting for you. What’s the matter?”
My Dad’s loving voice interrupted my reminisces. I blinked to see them still watching me with a smile. I took a deep breath. Time to rip the Band-Aid off.
“I ended things with David.” The shock on their faces made me rush on. “Before you chide me or anything, I’m sorry for ruining the festivities with this. I know we’re supposed to get married in February but watching you all get so excited and already plan wedding colours, it broke me every second I listened.” I knelt in front of my parents and held their hands. “You know me. I would never jeopardize something if it was truly the best for me. Please, trust me on this.”
They were quiet for a while and then Dad, holding my hands, spoke. “I know I raised my daughter right so I will ask just one question. Did he trample on the core values I taught you?” At my nod, he smiled. “Then it’s alright. We trust your decisions and we trust you. You did the right thing.”
I broke into tears then as my parents enveloped me in a hug. My siblings immediately joined and soon enough we were a laughing, sobbing mess. We soon dried our eyes. Or rather, the cool harmattan air beat us to it, and soon enough, Mom was barking orders and shuffling everyone to begin Christmas dinner preparations. Joy and laughter being the predominant atmosphere of the home.
I guess I was right after all. I will have a wonderful Christmas. And I had the best family anyone could ever think of to thank for that.
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My entry to The Neoxian City Monthly Writing Prompt.
