I had been racing around the kitchen like a madwoman all day because today was important: Kira was finally inviting her fiancé and his parents around for supper.
Marcus had proposed. It was official. And that meant I was going to meet him and his family, whether she liked it or not.

The doorbell rang just as I was setting the meal on the table. My heart pounded. This was it.

Bradley opened the door. Kira stood shining with excitement, her fiancé Marcus alongside her, and his parents behind them. My smile froze.

They were Black.

I stepped aside and let them in.

I took them to the dinner table, but my hands trembled. My thoughts raced. I needed a moment.

“Excuse me,” I said. “I just need to bring out a few more dishes. Kira, come help me.” I turned to Bradley. “You too.”

Kira hesitated but followed me. Bradley lagged behind.
“Your fiancé is Black!” The words spilled out before I could stop them.

“Yes, Mom. I know.” Her speech remained calm, but her gaze hardened.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” I demanded.

“Because I knew how you’d react,” she said, crossing her arms. “Just give Marcus a chance. He’s a good man, and his family is wonderful.”

She stormed away without saying another thing.

Bradley and I carried the dishes to the table silently. During supper, no one spoke much, although Kira and Marcus tried to keep the conversation going. The air felt heavy.

Betty, Marcus’ mother, leaned in next to me. “What do you think of them as a couple?”

I hesitated. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not r.a.c.i.s.t.”

Betty nodded. “I completely agree. I don’t think they’re a good match either. Marcus would be better off with someone who understands our… culture.”

Betty straightened. “We can’t let this wedding happen.”
Betty and I formed an unspoken alliance after that.

We chose battles over everything. Betty criticized Kira’s dress choice, saying it violated their traditions.

I argued with Marcus about the menu, arguing that Kira would not be pleased with his family’s choices.

The harder we pushed, the stronger Kira and Marcus grew. Instead of acknowledging their differences, they clung closer together.

I planned a “harmless” lunch for Kira with my colleague’s son, a courteous young man with a steady job and solid family values.

Meanwhile, Betty scheduled a meeting between Marcus and a woman from their church who she thought would be a “better fit.”

That evening, we convened at Betty and Rod’s home. Bradley and I arrived early, and while Betty and I chatted about our plans, I observed something strange: Bradley and Rod were seated in front of the TV, laughing over beer.

I heard the front door swing open and slam closed. Heavy footsteps echoed around the home.

Kira and Marcus stood in front of us, their eyes filled with rage.
Kira turned to me, her face flushed. “Our wedding is in a week, and you’re setting me up on a date?”

When I opened my mouth, Betty spoke first. “We just wanted what’s best for you.”

I took a deep breath. “You could both find someone more… suitable,” I said, keeping my voice calm.

Kira’s whole body stiffened. “I don’t care what color his skin is! I love Marcus. I want to be with him.”

Marcus stepped forward. “And I love Kira. I don’t want to be with anyone else.”

Kira shook her head, and an empty laugh escaped her lips. “You keep saying how different we are, how we shouldn’t be together. But look at you two! You’re exactly the same. Stubborn, manipulative, always scheming.”

“If you can’t accept it, don’t come to the wedding,” Kira said.

They turned and walked out the door without saying another word.
That week, I phoned Kira. I sent a text. No response. The silence extended.

When I entered the bedroom on the night of the rehearsal dinner, Bradley was tying his tie.

He turned to face me. His voice was gentle, but his gaze was forceful. “My only daughter is getting married, and I’m not missing it.”

I finally gave in. I found myself outside the restaurant, looking through the window. Kira and Marcus strolled among the guests, beaming, smiling, and delighted. A familiar voice spoke next to me. “You couldn’t sit at home either, huh?”

I turned. Betty stood beside me, arms folded.

“Oh, we’re going to have a rough time together, mother-in-law,” I said, shaking my head.

Then she sighed as she watched Kira and Marcus. “But as long as they’re happy, that’s all that matters.”