“And when will we see you get married?” The old bitch doddered at me, veiny hands grasping at mine.
I resisted the urge to fling her, ass over head, and walk away cackling.
“Who knows?” I grit my teeth and smile.
There is no right answer at these times. There is no retort you can make that will satisfy or quieten them. You wade out of their whirlpool of malice, treading water till you can drift out of their orbit.
I force my lips into a dead man’s smile and start to walk away. Only to be accosted by two more, one of whom is my grandmother.
“And when are you getting married?” asks the one I’m not related to.
“I really don’t know, it’s not as if it’s in my hands,” I reply.
My grandmother snorts. “Of course it is! All you have to do is say yes. All these new fangled notions that you have should be shot. I don’t know how long you will stand in the way of your sisters. How long will they have to pay the price for your stupidity?”
Without saying a word, I turn on my heel and head for the entrance to the hall. Big, fat tears rush to my defense making me hurry even more. I swear then and there – I am marrying the next idiot that shows up.