2

Ginevra

“Are you drinking coffee at that time of the day? You’ll get rid of that immediately.” My grandmother speaks in such an outraged tone as if I had been something horribly scandalous and was dragging all the dirt into the house.

My Nana, as I have called her since I was a child, is an elegant woman and is always dressed up stylishly. She is usually not really loving and surely reigns her kingdom with an iron fist. It is a miracle I got to actually call her by the silly pet name I had for her until now. Normally, she would have had me trained to call her else already. Her designer clothes just emphasize her authority and there are just a few people in the world that would have the guts to contradict her.

And I’m not one of them.

I’m not allowed to get back at her as she doesn’t take it as well as my grandfather. So, I hand my cup to a maid that has appeared next to me, for her to pour my delicious mood-enhancer down the drain.

“Yes, Nana.”

My grandmother is followed by one of her minions and, honestly, I don’t even care to get to remember them. They look the same anyway and she changes them every other month.

“Will you get ready for lunch or are you planning to join us in your pajamas?!” She lands one last blow before she leaves to walk back into the room she came from.  

I’m not wearing any pajamas. I would never have the guts to walk around like this in the house, but my t-shirt and my jeggings surely have been a risky undertaking.

“I’ll get changed right away, Nana.”

I excuse myself and walk out quickly. Practically running back up the stairs and along the hallway, I pass my brother’s room as he is exiting wearing chino pants and an elegant polo-shirt. He passes his hand through his light-brown hair as he musters me.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m already on my way to dressing appropriately.”

Not that he would ever do anything wrong.

I hear him reprimanding me as I imitated my grandmother's voice mockingly, but I tune him out.

***

The dining table is packed, and my numerous family, all dressed fancily, are rather making it look like a banquet. I hate this. I would kill to be able to just eat a single toasted bagel and drink my coffee in peace and silence. But, as I want to live the luxury I came to love, I have to play along. So, if granny wants me to play doll, I’m the first to put on a puffy pink chiffon dress. As I’m eavesdropping on my father and brother discussing an upcoming deal with our biggest business rival, I try hard to blend out my sister soothing her child or my twin brothers bickering. My mother finally makes my plan fail completely as she starts a conversation with me.

Argh.

“Have you already looked through the profiles I gave you?”

“No, Ma, I didn’t.”

My eyes are still fixed on the men at the other side of the table as I add.

“I’m not going to marry someone out of a personally selected play-box for me.”

I stress out my last words mockingly, as I hate how they got me into this scheme anyway. My grandmother turns away from her great-grandson, gifting me with her much-appreciated attention.

“Ginevra, your tone.”

I groan stabbing my scrambled eggs around my plate.

I hate how I cannot even be myself at home.

“You will hand me over a name this afternoon, will you?”

My mother’s question is really just a demand and I nod like the good puppy I am.

“Sure, Ma.” I give in eventually, feeling disarmed and sighing exhaustedly.

Who knows, maybe there will be Mr. Right waiting for me in there. All this testing can’t hardly have been for nothing.

A few days ago, I got dragged to a romance test center by my mother and went through a ridiculous number of so-said scientific tests to find my perfect match. Even if I got in there committed to filling the forms out saying that I’m looking for a handsome and absurdly gigantic alpha-werewolf, I had just read a novel about, I stopped being silly the moment I saw the actual questionnaires and filled them out truthfully, like the hopelessly romantic gal I am.

My grandmother is already back shaking a baby rattle in front of her great-grandson’s face, making him giggle as she reprimands me again.

“And choose well, my dear. We don’t want to have others laugh at you, don’t we?”

I stare at the diamond pin sparkling in her dyed blonde hair as I respond.

“Sure, Nana.”

My mother taps my hand gently as I look into the dark brown eyes that, just like the long black hair, I got from her too. It looks like an intimate gesture of a mother to her daughter, but in reality it is nothing more than a puppet master that prepares its favorite doll to perform.

“Very good. I’m looking forward to your choice then.”

***

I let my head fall into my hands with a deep sigh.

“Can you possibly chew any louder, Nina?!”

My best friend giggles as she munches on another chip happily.

“I can try!”

I groan as I take another file from the marriage-proposal-file and open to find a rather chubby 40-year-old with scanty black hair smiling back at me.

“How can he even be compatible with me? What is wrong with me?”

Nina giggles again and cracks up as soon as I hold up the picture for her to see.

“Oooooh my goodness. What the hell did you write in those questionnaires?”

I push out another sigh, desperation rising in me.

“What do I do? Everyone I look at is worse than the one before.”

“I know what you need! A party!”

She closes the file in front of my eyes, forcing me to look up at her.

“What kind of party?”