The Price of Power

2

Diane got home a little past midnight. When she unlocked the door to her home, she spotted Persia seated at the dinner table, filling out an application for a job at the floral shop. 

"I'm home," Diane called out in a weary voice, a sour taste flooding her tastebuds. Her sweet innocent daughter was going to be married tomorrow, and there was nothing that could stop it.

She kicked off her stilettos and dropped her black handbag on the white shoe storage bench. 

After her prolonged workday ended and right as she was getting ready to head home, Jeff called her back into his office and explained exactly what the plan was. Diane was to tell Persia that she was going to get married for money, but her life was not going to change one bit. She was still going to live with her mother, but she would have to come running whenever Heath called. 

At least she wasn't going to have to live in squalor like Diane did growing up. 

"Hey, Mom. I made some cabbage soup for you. It's on the stove," Persia murmured and chewed on the inside of her cheek as she stopped scribbling at the page and chose to stare at it blankly. 

Persia looked like she just woke up. Her hair was arranged in a messy bun, but half of the aforementioned, dark coils cascaded out of the bun and down her back. A pair of chunky glasses sat on her nose, and they slid down every few seconds, to which she pushed them back up again. She wore a red jersey and a pair of cobalt blue basketball shorts. 

Diane forced her lips to curve up in a smile before sliding past the kitchen table. She steeled her weight by gripping the sides of the tan butcherblock counter, and she breathed in the scent of stewed tomatoes. 

The woman tied her blonde curls back and removed the cover from the pot. The soup spouted a cloud of steam into her face, and condensation from the lid ran into the soup. Diane grabbed a spoon and tasted the soup. It was too thin, and it tasted like seasoned water. Persia wasn't fit to become a wife... but she had to be one come tomorrow at noon.

She couldn't wait any longer to tell Persia. If she did, she would lose the courage to. 

"Persia? Can I talk to you for a minute?" Diane asked, her voice hesitant. Persia, in response, grunted. "Persia?" she called out again. The legs of a chair scraped against the vinyl floors as she pulled the one next to her daughter out from under the table. 

Diane waited until Persia looked up at her. Her fingertips traced over the digs and dents the sturdy oak table faced over years of use. Even though Diane made far more than the average white-collar worker, she was careful with her money. She made sure to set aside most of her paycheck in case she lost her job like both of her parents. Her greatest fear was that she would turn into an abusive monster to Persia if she lost her job.

"Yes?" Persia asked, finally lifting her head. Diane's hands snaked over Persia's and clenched them together. 

"I... Persia, I love you so much, and there's something you have to know."

She paused and slipped off her reading glasses. "Is everything okay?" she asked, her brown eyes flooding with concern. Her forehead creased in that way that it did whenever she was worried. 

Diane sucked in a breath before she began. 

"I know that you're only 19 and that you have your whole life ahead of you..." Diane looked away from her daughter as stinging saltwater assaulted her eyes and threatened to spill over. 

"Geez, Mom, you're making it sound like I'm dying tomorrow," she muttered and reached for her reading glasses, probably assuming this was just another one of her mother's emotional moments, but Diane grabbed her wrist with shaky hands. 

Persia's eyes flew open, and she gathered both of her mother's hands in her own. "Mom! Are you sick?" she asked. She extended the back of one hand to Diane's forehead and the other to her own. 

"You feel fine," she murmured, tilting her head. She finally glanced up at Persia, unabashed by the tears anymore. They broke free and stained her peach cheeks. 

"Persia... you're getting married."

Persia's jaw dropped as she examined Diane's face, studying her mother's expression closely for any signs of a joke. When she fell short of what she was looking for, she rose from her chair at lightning speed.

"You... you can't be serious, right?" she asked, her voice meek. Diane hung her head, ashamed by the choice now.

"I'm sorry, Persia, but-"

"You're trading me off to a man like a piece of cattle?" she demanded, slamming her fist onto the table and causing it to vibrate.

"No, it's not that, I just want the best future for you," she tried to explain, wrestling with a sob that threatened to rack her body and shut her down.

"My best future involves me being single, not married!" she roared. Her dark eyes grew moist, the same as Diane's, but before any tears dropped onto her tanned cheek, she turned her back. In a low and steady tone, she asked, "When is the wedding?"

Diane winced at this as she said, "Tomorrow."

Persia's anger renewed, and she turned back to Diane with a vicious glare and a pointed nose. "Tomorrow? Were you going to wait until I was at the altar to tell me?" she barked, crossing her arms over her chest. She had every right to be angry at me, Diane thought.

"I'm really sorry that it had to happen this way, but it was the only way to save you," Diane said, her voice cracking as she peered into her daughter's distraught face. 

"To save me from what?!" Persia screamed. 

"To save you from my childhood!" Diane finally shouted, and the house became deathly still, so quiet that a mouse's footsteps could be heard scurrying outside. And me. If the past was any indication of who the Cypress family was when money was tight, Persia would be better off with the mafia than her. 

Persia's eyes grew stormy, and her chin lifted. "I'll never trust you again," she spat out, whipping around and clomping to her room. Her eyes glistened as she spared one last look back before slamming her door shut.