All of Me

“Well, my parents are dead, and the few friends I have are on there. I didn’t include the ones who live out of state since we’re trying to keep the number down,” he told her with a shrug.

She glanced at the list and smiled. “Looks like we’re only inviting about sixty people, and I know there’s a few on my list who won’t show.”

“Have you told the caterers?” he asked.

“I told them the projected number. Once everybody RSVP’s, I’ll give them the final plus five,” Diana told him as she placed the champagne flutes in the sink to wash later.

“Why plus five?” he asked, curious as he stood in the doorway.

“Just in case,” Diana winked at him. He blew her a kiss and left the kitchen, and after pouring herself a glass of iced tea, no sugar to preserve her curvy figure for the most gorgeous wedding dress ever, she wondered to her desk so she could address the invites.

Addressing them was quick work, and luckily she had nice handwriting whether writing quickly or slowly. She finished Marty’s list first since his was shorter. When she unfolded her list, she stared at it for a moment, frowning.  Her mother’s name was at the top of the list. With a sigh, she skipped her and moved down the list, though her mind drifted to the last time she’d seen her mother…

Diana dreaded going to her mother’s house. Marty had offered to go with her, but she needed to do this alone. Her mother, Patty, didn’t like Marty and went out of her way to be rude to him. When she found out about the engagement, Diana had no idea what the woman might say or do.

The house she’d grown up in was small, but it had been perfect for her and her mom. The man who had fathered her was not in the picture, and Patty had worked hard to make a good life for her and her daughter, and for that, Diana was grateful. However, her mother believed she could run her life, make her decisions for her. Which is why Diana’s stomach was in knots as she climbed out of the car and walked up the short sidewalk to the front door.

She didn’t knock, just used her key to get inside. “Mom?”

“In the kitchen,” she answered, and Diana meandered back, glancing around. Nothing had changed since she’d moved out to go to college. Even the framed picture of Diana and Ronaldo on the bookshelf.

“Mom, I thought I threw that picture of me and Ronaldo away,” Diana said as she walked into the kitchen.

Her mother held up a spoon, her hand underneath, and said, “Try this. I’m trying my hand at homemade alfredo sauce.”

Diana sipped the creamy liquid and grinned. “Very good, as usual. I certainly didn’t inherit that skill.”

“You never tried. I’m putting this over chicken and pasta, if you’d like to stay,” her mother responded as she stirred the sauce.

“That’d be good. It smells amazing,” Diana said with a smile. “Need some help?”

“You could toss the salad,” Patty said, pointing to the large bowl with mixed greens and tomatoes in it.

“Are you making all this food for yourself? You didn’t know I was coming,” Diana asked as she picked up the tongs and began shifting the vegetables around in the bowl.

“Yep. I’ll eat on this for a few days,” Patty told her, a small smile on her face. “And of course I still have that picture. I hope you two will one day get back together.”

“Mom,” Diana sighed. “You know that’s not going to happen. He’s a piece of sh*t.”

“Language, Diana,” her mother replied sternly, giving her the mother look that all mothers learn the minute they have a baby. “He made some mistakes, and he’s apolo—”

“Mom, I’m not having this discussion with you,” Diana interrupted her. “I’m with Marty now.”

Her mother tsked, her frown wrinkling the beautiful face so much like Diana’s. “Marty.”

“There’s nothing wrong with Marty. He treats me like a queen, has a great job, and loves me very much,” Diana defended quietly.

“He loves having a black woman to tell what to do.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Diana asked, dropping the tongs in the bowl. “He doesn’t tell me what to do.”

“Oh, okay. A white man is dating a black woman and he lets her wear the pants in the relationship,” her mother sarcastically replied.

“Mom, what the hell? He’s a good man,” Diana replied again. “He doesn’t act like that. Why would you say that?”

“He’s white,” was her only defense for her comments. She bent to retrieve the chicken from the over, and because it was done, she turned the oven off but left it in there to stay warm. “White men are like that.”

“They aren’t all like that and you know it,” Diana argued. She waved her hands as if dismissing all the negativity.

“Let’s talk about something else,” Patty announced. “Your cousin Katrina is getting married. To that boy who used to live down the road from them. He’s a preacher now.”

“That’s nice,” Diana mumbled. Her mind was spinning. After their mini argument, she wasn’t sure how to say she was engaged to the white man her mother hated.

“It’s in a couple weeks. You got the invitation, correct?”

“Um, I don’t remember.”

“Come over here and we’ll ride together,” Patty said as she broke some pasta over a boiling pot. She stirred the sauce and looked over her shoulder at Diana. “Diana? Did you hear me?”

“Yeah.” She stared at the floor, sucked in a deep breath, and looked at her mom. “Um, I have something to tell you.”

“Good news, I hope,” her mother answered as she wiped her hands on a kitchen towel.

“Guess that depends on your outlook.” Diana held her left hand up so her mother could see the ring, a large, princess cut diamond set into platinum.

Patty stared for several seconds, her facial expressions beginning at confused, moving to startled, and finally landing on fury. “What the hell is that?”

“Mom, it’s an engagement ring,” Diana said slowly as if she was speaking words that should be understood.

“Yes, I’m well aware what it is,” she returned furiously, slamming down the towel. “Is it from that white man?”

“Yes, Mom. His name is Marty,” Diana said, her tone even despite the anger simmering.

“Are you pregnant? Is that why you’re marrying him?”

“No, I’m not pregnant!” Diana yelled. “I’m marrying him because I love him and want to spend my life with him.”

Patty rolled her eyes. “You are too young. And to throw your life away on a white man…” She shook her head as if Diana had ruined her life.

“Why are you so racist?” Diana asked, venom in her words.

Shocked, Patty put her hand on her chest. “I’m not racist.”

“You are! You hate him for no other reason than he’s white. You think it’s black pride or something, but it’s just pure racism!” Diana slammed her hand on the counter.

“You’re a beautiful black woman! You should be with a black man,” Patty insisted. “White men treat black women like s*x slaves. I’ve seen it a million times!”

“Where? On TV? You grew up in an all black neighborhood. You went to an all black school. You work in the office of a magazine for black people. You have no idea what a white man will do because you don’t even know one! I bet you never even had a white friend!”

“You are being ridiculous!” Patty yelled. “If you’re going to marry that white man, you can rest assured he’ll leave you when he’s done with you. Have his half babies. Go ahead. And when he’s done, he’ll find a fancy lawyer, and you’ll be taking care of those babies alone.”

Diana stared at her, amazed by the bigotry spewing from her mother’s mouth. “I guess I shouldn’t bother sending you an invitation.”

“Damn right. I’m not celebrating the beginning of my daughter’s downfall.”

Diana rolled her eyes. “I’m leaving.”