There was one part of my life that I knew wasn’t entirely up to me, but that had always seemed too far away to worry about, until recently. With my 26th birthday having passed already, I knew the time was drawing near.
The drive home wasn’t a long one, and I’d been in a good mood until I stepped through the front door of my house. I knew something was wrong when my mother nearly jumped a mile into the air when I walked into the kitchen, where she was at the stove preparing
dinner.
It was nice to come home to home-cooked meals, although I was quickly getting to the age where I wished to be on my own by now. I often dreamed of possibly having my own cute apartment to decorate, but I knew that was nowhere in my near future. Given my family’s line of work, my parents insisted that I stayed at home until I was married and had a husband to look out for and protect me.
“No proper young lady like yourself has any business living alone,” my father had said shortly after I’d started teaching. Just wanting to run the idea by him, I had asked how he would feel about me saving up some money to get my own place. But just as I had anticipated, the idea was almost instantly shot down. Needless to say, my parents harbored old-fashioned ideas. There was just no use fighting them over it, for their minds couldn’t be swayed.
Just like there was no point telling them that they were hypocrites.
My brothers all entertained women in their own places on a regular basis—women whose families apparently had no qualms about letting them grow up and be on their own.
But that was just how double-standards worked in my family.
“Goodness, you scared me, Ari,” my mother said, clutching her chest. My mother was a beautiful woman, who had likely been a knockout in her younger days. People often told me I was the spitting image of her when she was in college, but I’ve always thought she was prettier than me. There was a strong resemblance between us nonetheless though, considering we had the same face shape and hazel eyes. While my hair was dark brown like my father though, hers was a lighter shade.
“Sorry, Mama,” I said, eyeing her suspiciously.
She turned off a pot of something boiling on the stove that smelled delicious and gave me a rather forced smile. “How was work today, honey?”
I nodded. “It was pretty good. One of the students I tutor on a regular basis made a lot of progress. I’m so proud of him.”
Mama smiled. “Be proud of yourself, sweetie. You’re just an excellent teacher. I see all the hard work you put in for those kids. You’re going to make an excellent mother yourself someday.”
I smiled and shifted my gaze to the floor. “Thanks.” Everyone knew I wanted lots of babies of my own one day, but that just happened to be an area of my life that I didn’t quite have much control over. There were to be no children before marriage for me, and my marriage was out of my hands. Unlike most of my friends, I’d never dated, for I knew it was pointless given the family I belonged to.
“I actually want to talk to you about something,” Mama said, her expression growing serious. My heart skipped a few beats, terrified that it was something serious.
“Is everything okay? Is it Daddy?” My mind ran wild, conjuring images of the worst kind. With a family so deeply involved in the mafia, bad news could happen at any second. There was just too much money floating about, enemies waiting to strike, and cops readily on the lookout for corrupt business dealings.
Mama shook her head and reached out for my arm. “No, no, sweetie,” she said. “Your father is fine. And so are your brothers, for that matter. This isn’t about them. It’s about you.”
My eyes widened, wondering what could possibly involve me.
I thought about the school. Had they called my home? Had someone discovered my family’s connection to the mafia and no longer believed it safe for me to be around children on a regular basis?
I swallowed, although my mouth had gone completely dry.
Still holding my arm, my mother led me to the dining room table and pulled out a chair for me. She then pulled out a chair and sat beside me.
I watched her face carefully, seeing the tensed way she held her mouth and the small wrinkle at her brow—the only indicator of her age. Her shoulders rose and fell in response to a deep breath she took.
Then quite suddenly and unexpectedly, she gave a big smile. “Arianna, you’re a young woman now,” she prefaced. I blinked. Could she and Daddy have possibly changed their outdated views and now saw it all right for me to get a place of my own?
I listened with bated breath as she continued. “These are some exciting times that lie ahead for you. Your father and I have decided that it is finally time…It’s time for you to be married soon.”
My ears rang with her words.
So that’s what this was all about.
I swallowed again, nervous, but also feeling somewhat excited. My life danced before my eyes. I envisioned wearing a beautiful wedding gown and walking down the aisle to a handsome groom waiting for me. Thrilled nervousness went through my belly as I thought about the honeymoon and all that it would entail…
I tried to imagine what I would look like, pregnant. What it would feel like. How it was going to be, holding my child…
Living in my own home, with my own family.
Just like I knew my family was involved in the mafia, I’d always known that I would someday have an arranged marriage. That was just the way my family worked. In modern society, so many thought of arranged marriages as a bad thing—as something old, outdated, and out-of-favor. As something wrong. Sordid. Unfair.