Page 8 of Risking it All

“The dress fits beautifully, baby,” she whispered.

A soft smile of my own broke through as she stood behind me and swept my hair back from my shoulders.

“You’re going to be a lovely bride, Zenny. I think you should wear your hair pinned up and let your natural beauty shine,” she suggested.

“Me too.” I agreed with a single bob of my head.

“I know this is hard for you, but I promise it gets easier. Marriage is a complicated thing. It’s all business and contracts. Even when love is involved, it’s a business. You are strong enough to blaze your own path. You can make it work for you. I believe in you.”

“If you believe that I can blaze my own path, then why do I have to do this?” I asked, turning to face her.

She sighed. “You know just as well as I do that it’s not up to us. Zara running away forced you back into the forefront. We’re trying to buy her some time so The Force doesn’t kill her. Right now, the only thing we can do is make the best of a fucked-up situation.”

“Dad is not interested in buying her time. The only thing he cares about is getting his seat at the table back.”

“Be that as it may, we have to go through with this to prove that we’re not running a game. Your father has made promises.”

“But I didn’t!”

“I know, baby. It’s a hard pill to swallow. I wish I could tell you something different, but this is the nature of the beast. I fought tooth and nail not to have to marry your father. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have four gorgeous daughters that mean the world to me. Your father even grew on me, as bullheaded and selfish as he may seem sometimes. He didn’t want to marry me any more than I wanted to marry him, and you saw how fine I was on those pictures.”

My mom’s comment made me laugh. She was as pretty today as she was on their wedding day nearly thirty years ago.

“You still look good, Mama.”

“I know that,” she said, winking before she continued. “Your father and I came to an understanding. Prayerfully, you and the young man you’ve been matched with will do the same. The rules have changed. I was only eighteen when I married your father. Now they let you wait until twenty-one and even allow you to go to college and pursue the highest level of education before you have to enter the marriage pool. You’ve had a chance to live and figure out what you like and dislike. You’ve had the chance to learn who you are. Don’t be a doormat. Don’t let him run over you.”

“You already know I’m not doing that.”

“You’ll be fine. I promise.”

“You can’t make that kind of promise, Mama.”

“Maybe I can’t, but I can do something that’s even stronger than that. I can pray.”

A round of rapid knocks on my bedroom door caused both of us to look back. My mom looked down at her diamond encrusted watch before her eyes flashed back up to mine.

“The meeting starts in twenty minutes. I asked Rosa to help you out with your dress and get changed so you can be on time. It’s going to be fine, Zenia.”

“I’ll be there,” I said.

What else could I do other than be there? The meeting was right downstairs, and I was sure my father would have someone drag me down kicking and screaming if I didn’t come down willingly. It was better to keep what dignity I had left at this point.

“Let me give you something before I go,” my mom said, reaching into the pocket of her flowy summer dress.

She pulled her hand out and pressed a small silver cross into the palm of my hand.

“This was my mother’s. She gave it to me before my wedding, and I would like to think that it helped to keep me safe all these years. It did what it needed to do for me. Now it will do the same for you.”

Tears pricked my eyes as my mom leaned in to kiss my cheek.

“Thank you, Ma.”

Without another word, she turned and sauntered out of my room. Rosa walked in as she let herself out.

“Let’s get you out of this dress so you can meet your fiancé,” she said as if there were anything normal about meeting the man I was supposed to marry thirty days before the wedding. She and I both knew that I was just another pawn in the game these rich and powerful men played. That thought alone made me want to gag.

Once Rosa helped me out of my dress, I changed into the cream pencil skirt and matching blouse laid out on my bed. It was required that I wear a shade of white to the meetings to indicate my purity. After getting dressed, I gave myself a quick spritz of my favorite perfume. When I was as satisfied as I could be with my appearance, I took a deep breath and left my room, headed for the dining room.