The Rise of Women

Deal Breakers

To say I was mad at Michael would be the understatement of the century. I am furious. Not only did he not give me a chance to explain, but he also practically called me a whore. Now, yes, what he said hurt me, but I am more furious by his stupidity. If someone heard him insult me like that, he would not only be imprisoned, but he would also be starved to death. Nobody cares about the prisons, and nobody cares about who's in them. I should've smacked him upside the head, like I would disciplining a child, for his behavior.

But, what's done is done. He was lucky this time, but he might not be next time. So there must be no next time.

It had been three days since I last talked to Michael, and not only must I talk to him tonight, but before that I had to go see my mother, who had requested me for lunch. I knew she was still saddened by the passing away of Dublant, so I did not fear what she has to say. Most likely all she'd be doing is reminiscing.

When lunch time comes around, and Marshall helps me look presentable, I make my way to the dining room. The doors opened, and I was greeted by the sight of a long dining table with forty chairs. My mother was placed at the head of the table, and, not surprisingly, my chair was on the complete opposite end. We were a very close family, you can see.

With thirty eight chairs separating us, I greeted her from across the room.

"Hello, Mother. How are you fairing?" Strangely, she smiled. I did not expect that.

"Why, my dear, dear Constance, I am wonderful! And how are you?" My eyes widened, before squinting.

"I... I am alright..." I answered.

"And how is your little pet.... Michaelangelo?" She asked with a bigger smile.

"I-I-he- he's...fine," I stuttered. I couldn't figure out her angle.

As the first course came out, we were forced into silence as we ate, my mother taking more delicate bites than I. We were nothing alike.

Once our plates were cleared away, our second course came out, and with it a glass of wine. I reached forward to my cup and seconds before it touched my lips, my mother called out.

"Oh, dear, you might want to start quitting now if you are going to conceive within the month."

I was happy I didn't take a sip of the wine, because if I had, it would've been all over the table.

"Excuse.... Excuse me?" I was too shocked to make an educated sentence.

"I am changing the deal we have. You can keep Michaelangelo if you conceive within the month. We are only a few days in so you will have lots of time.  If you don't conceive, Michaelangelo will return to me." She had the nerve to smile at me.

"WE HAD A DEAL!" I yelled as I stood up from my chair and banged my fists against the table.

My mother stood as well, and said, "Now I've changed it. Leave, before I get so angry that I take Michaelangelo anyway!"

As I was leaving the room, I barely heard her say, "Honestly, so dramatic."

I fumed all the way to my room.