Her House Settled

Minnie blinked with entertained eyes, setting her coffee, nearly wobbling, onto the very edge of a coaster. She spent a great deal of time correcting it before she looked back at me.

“And this, well, this Isabelle of yours will arrive in a few days?” Her hands never stopped moving. Busy, busy, busy. She was pulling open a beige jar on the table now, crinkling the candies inside before finding one suitable. She looked at the wrapper, checking and turning it.

I hummed a yes, sheepish. This was not the way I wanted her to find out. I was hoping she could meet Isabelle under different circumstances. She started rolling the hard candy around in her mouth.

Named Minnie “like Minnie Mouse!” she’d squeal at me as a child. “Your Grandma Minnie loves you so much!” I’d dance and watch old cartoons with her. I’d pull my CD player out to her living room and put Roger Miller on repeat. She would smile, sitting on the edge of her seat as I wobbled with my skinny, unsure legs. She would hold my hands to steady me.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Her eyes were so harsh, so steadfast. She was expecting me to give in at some point. Just say this whole thing was a joke and call it off.

She hoped it was all a joke.

I never understood how some people were together. Minnie was so bright and excitable, and Grandpa Jake was a real bastard. He rolled his own cigars and pulled the towels from the closet until the whole stack was ruined. I watched as his hands destroyed everything he touched.

He smiled a smile that told every guest they had to be careful, to back off. I never did enjoy his company. I’m not sure he was happy with his daughter having a girl in the first place.

He left his ashtrays on the kitchen table, until Minnie was rolling her eyes. “Oh, I’m sure Minnie Mouse will be fine!” He’d sneer at her. “A little ash never hurt anything.”

Minnie would stare at the table, a frown around her lips, but would fake a smile and excuse herself.

“You know what this means, right?” I was startled by her sudden surety.

I shook my head slowly.

“I can’t welcome you - or her - into my home. You know this is unnatural,” The words strung together like lights in my head, flashing and breaking. “God will never love you if you decide to marry her.”

I smile despite the painful words. “I’m sorry to hear that.” I didn’t say anything else, letting the quiet hang.

She made a face like she’d licked a lemon. “That’s it?” The candy was rolling in her mouth, clicking against her teeth, faster, faster.

I shrugged. I’d been dating Isabelle for seven years. It was time to announce it, if ever there was one. I was holding my breath.

“You’d throw me away? For a single relationship?” I wince at the words. I just can’t imagine that this is in any way fair. Relationships shouldn’t be for anyone else but yourself.

“No. I would love to keep you,” I try not to let the tears out. This can’t really be her. Somewhere we were still dancing in that living room together.

“No, and that’s final. What you’re doing is disgusting. I’d always hoped better for you.”

The silence hung around us. The cuckoo clock at the end of the hall chimed.

I never said it, but I’m sure all the memories around us whispered:

I’d always hoped better for you, too.