Cupid's Perfect Choice

1. Just a Dream

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"Mhmm... mhmm... hmm." I continue humming over the phone for another half an hour, paying more attention to painting my toes neon pink than to my mother's persistent attempts to lure me into meeting yet another candidate who she believes will be the perfect husband for me.

"Oh, enough already." I hear dad argue on the other side as he snatches the device from her and I smile. "Give her a break. She's still young."

"Oh, thank God." I mumble. "Hey, Dada."

"Hi, sweetie. Just ignore your mother. I don't want you picking up the first nobody who crosses paths with you and marrying him." I can imagine his jaw clenching as he shakes his head at mother.

"Don't worry, dad. I won't." I enthusiastically assure him, ignoring the hour long call that mom just spent trying to convince me that it is about time I get married. I guess I took the stubborn gene from her.

"Yes, don't. You're still young. No need to rush." His supportive tone warms my heart and I automatically beam.

"Thank you, Dada. I really wish I could talk some more, but I need to go and get some sleep. I have to wake up early for work tomorrow." I explain, setting the nail polish back in the first drawer of my nightstand.

"I don't even get that whole having a job thing." My mom's voice roars through the small device, making me roll my eyes. "I mean, you should be getting married to a handsome rich man, or at least you should be staying here with us till he comes along. You should not be wasting your time having a crappy job and staying in a rental apartment when you can be living a comfortable life with your loving parents."

"No, Mama." I sigh for the hundredth time this night. "I told you before that I don't need your money. I have a job and an apartment and it's all of my own, and I'm perfectly happy with the life I'm living now." I cringe as I lie out of my ass.

I mean, I'm not the happiest if I'm being honest. I'm actually quite broke, but they don't need to know that, now do they? Nope.

So what if I barely have any money? It's a new experience anyway. I'm sure I will get through this just fine.

"Yes! That's my daughter. See, Mary? I raised her well. I raised her to be independent and a hard worker just like me." My dad flaunts the truth with pride.

My father started his life with almost nothing. He didn't take anything from his rich parents and started working hard until he became a successful businessman who owns a well-known company. My parents are not stupidly rich but they are doing quite well. They live a comfortable life where money isn't an issue. My dad married my mom twenty five years ago, and when I came along he started teaching me how to be like him: Independent, wise and optimistic. Okay, maybe I'm not wise enough yet, but I try.

He always says, "Whatever you fight hard for always ends up yours." And that is the reason why I'm as stubborn as I could ever get. I just don't know when to quit, technically.

My mother, on the other hand, is the total opposite of my father, yet they fit so perfectly well that I get jealous sometimes. She wants me to get married as soon as possible and give her at least half a dozen of grandchildren. She didn't want me to move out two years ago, or try to get a job at all.