Michael and Me

My Family is god-AWFUL

"But, Nicole won't you pick white roses for the reception?" Grandma yells.

I come back from the kitchen, carrying the tray of tea. "No, I want red."

"Well, that's alright, except white is the color of purity." She frowns.

I roll my eyes. "That's old fashioned. Red is beautiful--just like me."

"Nicole, what did I tell you about your conceit?" My mother wraps her long blonde hair in a bun.

I set two diamonds on the tea tray. "Which one, bigger or smaller?"

"We want these diamonds to serve as table pieces, Mary Ann," Mom says to my father's mother.

"The last time I went to a wedding with sparkly stuff all over the place, that was yours, Nancy. And we all know how that ended," Grandma Mary scoffs.

"You don't need to be harsh about it," Nancy says quietly. She and Dad have been divorced for eight years now.

"Look, I just want the diamonds to be on the side tables, not where the guests are sitting. And I want a pianist to play the Canon."

"When I got married, all we had was the ceremony AND reception taking place in the barn. Tennessee had beautiful weather that year," Grandma adds, rubbing her light brown skin.

"Fuck," I murmur, picking up a glass.

"How do you expect to be a good wife to Michael when you're talking like that!" Grandma furrows her eyebrows. "Men don't like a woman talking that way, especially their wives!"

"How do you want me to act when we're married?"

"Like a lady: cook dinner every night, make sure the house is clean, make babies, don't ever let your work interfere with your marriage." Mom nods.

"I don't think Michael cares about my career. Stop acting as though he's gonna divorce me, first minute."

"We don't think that--it's just... marriages don't work, Nicole."

"Amen to that!" Grandma downs her wine.

Mom continues. "And we don't know why you're doing this, but I'd rather you get a prenup too."

My jaw drops. "A prenup? Mom, I can't ask Michael for that!"

She gives me a dead-cold stare.

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

I get up. "I'm not doing this anymore! You're all a bunch of mean, vindictive women!"

Jennifer comes rushing in. "What's going on?"

"Mom wants Michael to give me a prenup?"

"Mom, i thought you said you liked Mike?" Jen looks over.

"Yes, sure I do. I like a lot of people. But I won't see my daughter stranded with little money after giving her heart and soul to her ex."

"She's just bitter," Grandmother whispers. I scoff.

"Nicole, this family is highly respected in this country. To get a divorce and get cheated over is a big embarrassment. I won't have it happen to you. I'm already bracing for Alessandra's." Mom purses her lips in disappointment.

I sit back down. "So what do you want to do now? I ask Mike for a prenup, then?"

"Talk to him about it--see what he says."

"They want you to do what???"

I take a deep breath. Michael's already pissed.

"I don't know, that's what my mom and my grandma said. I don't even know half of what a prenup is--"

"Do you know what it means, Nicole? It means you do not trust me."

"That's not me! That's them!"

"You still told me about it."

"I want to know what you think."

"That hurts... that really hurts, Nick, that you would think I would consider making you sign a prenup."

I get a scared look on my face so that's when Mike decides to calm down.

"Look--I just want you to be happy. If you think signing a prenup will make you feel more secure, fine, do it."

"I don't want to do it! That's the point, I'm telling you they want me to but I said no!" I'm so annoyed yet so confused.

"Do you even know what it means?"

"It just means you and I each get a certain percentage of our household income and one of us gets the property rights to our house."

"Good. Do you see why it's a bad idea?"

"I dunno..."

"Because you think that, in the event of divorce, I won't pay you however much you want. And people only do that when they know they might get a divorce. It's like your marrying me for my money."

I get up. "You know better than that, Michael. I have enough money to last me a lifetime. You're not my lifeline to anything."

"Nicole, stop being so dramatic."

"You don't care, do you?"

"About what?"

"About how I feel!"

"Yes, I do. Stop that! Look, come here," Michael says gently. He drags me by my hand until I'm on his lap.

"Nicole, this may not sound like good advice, but don't listen to your mom. She doesn't know anything about me and she barely has been with you over the years. She doesn't know what a gorgeous, gracious woman you've become. Understand that?"

"True. I love you baby. But don't get mad at me for something that my parents said, alright?"

"I know, I know. I just get nervous, you know? 'Cause they can put anything into your head and--bam--you're totally different."

It's true I let my family control me. But I love them and I love Michael-----arrghh, I just get sooo confused. Like I'm not doing anything right.

I know I'm a spoiled bitch. But Michael sees the good in me, something much bigger than my inner pampered-brat-self.

Michael kisses my head. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

I suddenly remember we're in his kitchen.

"Nah... I feel tired."

"Then come to my room." Mike picks me up bridal-style and carries me upstairs.