I try to study before breakfast, but I end up disassembling and reassembling my pen instead. “That one’s your mother,” Cassie says, out of hand but it leaves me with a strange rush. I nod. She carved it here when she was little. Lucia Marie. My zizi’s is there too, Angelina Marie. I feel a wish my mother wasn’t dead that pulls me out like the tide. I do notice when Larissa appears and puts her hand over mine. I also notice my engagement bracelets, a moment after, cool and thin.
I take my hand back and focus again on my page. The black and white is too mesmerizing, though, and instead of reading, I imagine my mother is here.
Still alive.
She kisses me.
She really is so beautiful.
I tell her I’m afraid to marry Andrew. That I don’t want to anymore. She asks what he’s done, and I tell her it’s my fault because I just don’t think I can be married. I’m not strong enough. Not womanly enough. Not selfless enough. She coos and hugs me because she’s my mother. And to her, I’m a child so I’m small and girlish and must be given everything, even as I’m hers, so I’m really strong and womanly and selfless. She tells me don’t marry him, don’t.
I’m cool and shaky. I decide to go up to the lab without Lium. I hold the bracelets in my fist while I’m at my station. Their clacking is messing with my analysis. I miss my mother for a bit, then yes, then no, then yes then no, then I’m fiercely glad she’s not here to see that I’m a failure. I sit still in my spinning chair and wait, because I miss her again, and my zizi says that time can insulate just like water.
The next week rushes by. I take my final boards and become a certified AIS at the Great Proficient level, New England Colony Base-Specific. They tell me I get the highest score on one of the tests, but I don’t listen anymore. I’m good. That’s what they wanted, so they don’t need to act so surprised.
The next Saturday morning is alright because I pretend Andrew isn’t coming today for me to marry him in seven days. I serve people breakfast, wash dishes, chop vegetables, it’s all very nice except for the knot in my stomach which I also ignore.
Then I knock over a tray of waiting crostini and my zizi tells me I need some fresh air. I spend all day in the graveyard, cleaning it.