The Mechanic

The Mechanic Part 17

When we got to the house, Joe was there with his mother.
“Joe, what are you doing here?”
He did not respond, instead his mother got up and walked to me. She took my hand in hers.
“Diana, he told me the good news. Come, sit with me.”
I looked at Carol, she winked at me. It was like I was a guest in my own house.
Joe’s mother sat from across me,
“Diana, we have to make swift arrangements before you are too long in.”
“What do you mean?”
She looked at Joe and Carol and asked them to make us some tea.
“The wedding, meeting your parents, we have a lot to plan.”
“Aren’t we moving too fast?”
She took a deep breath and took off her glasses. She wiped them with the pristine white clothe from their case.
“Diana, I have never seen Joe this committed to anything or anyone. He really loves you.”
“I know, but he hasn’t finished his therapy yet.”
“You didn’t know?”
She shook her head, but with a smile. She wore some sense of pride too.
“See, he is already changing because of you. I can’t thank you enough, my dear.”
Joe walked back with a pot of tea and Carol came with mugs and muffins.
We all sat in silence lost in our thoughts.
“I assume you are her best friend.”
“Yes I am, she is like a sister to me.”
“Good, then you and I are going to plan this wedding.”
Carol turned to look at me with a raised eyebrow.
By the end of the day, it had been decided that they were going to visit my family in 2 weeks time.
The weddings was going to take place a month later. They had tried to convince me to stop working and move into their palatial home but I refused.
I needed something to do, someone to be. I was not cut out to be a house wife. Not that my job was the most rewarding or paying much but it made me independent. This did not sit well with Joe but he really had no choice.
Two weeks later, we travelled up country to meet with my parents. My mom was particularly shocked that I had decided to get married so soon after meeting with Joe. I avoided meeting her questioning gaze.
She finally called me to her room and made me sit on her bed.
“What’s really going on with you?”
“I’m getting married, aren’t you happy for me?”
“He is not the one for you, I can feel it in my gut.”
“Mum, please.”
“I don’t know what’s going on with you and that man.”
“I am……”
“You are?”
“Pregnant for him.”
Her shoulders literally shuddered. She was now the one avoiding my gaze. I could sense her disappointment in me.
“Is that why those people are hurrying the wedding?”
“Diana, I think you are making a mistake.”
“You don’t have to marry him.”
“I uhm, the wedding invitations have already been sent out, mum.”
She came and sat next to me, I fought hard to hold back the tears but it was futile.
Part of me was scared stiff, part of me knew I was making a really bad mistake, part of me was elated, a little over the moon.
I was excited, I was marrying the man that I loved. We were having a baby, why then was there a sinking feeling sitted at the pit of my stomach?
My mum held my hands together and wiped my tears,
“I know you have your reasons, just know that I am always going to be here if you need me.”
I looked up and smiled at her.
“Now, there are too many people here today, celebrating this facade. Let’s go out there and put on a show.”
She nudged me with her elbow and smiled.
“I have a feeling this one will be a girl.”
“I am only a few weeks, how can you tell?”
“Because I am your mother. Look, I will make my own outfit, I don’t want handouts from your rich husband.”
“Mum, they are not handouts.”
“Normally, it’s the bride that plans the wedding, with her family. Not the other way round.”
“We were just helping, but she has done most of the planning.”
We both turned to look at Joe’s mother standing behind us.
“Oh Mrs….”
“Diana dear, you can mum too, you know, you are lucky you have 2 who care and love you.”
She was looking at my mum while talking to me. My mum folded her arms under her bosom.
“Mum, I will talk to you later.”
They had met for the first time and already they didn’t like each other. This was going to be harder than we thought.


Diana Mosoba

Tags: No tags

One Response

Add a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *