Lovely Michele

MICHELE ANTUNES

Tec, tec, tec...

This is the most perfect sound my fingers can produce over the course of a full day by gushing the words through the keys of the computer. That's clear, getting right behind the pen noise scratching the paper, obvious right? Both are like a lovely pleasurable song for human mind and ears. Well, at least that's the way it is for me.

I am an eternal lover of words, an incurable romantic, the best publisher of The Mania of Reading, and future bestselling author of novels in the country who loves to play cupid in her spare time.

Okay, do what I was born with the gift for it?

Ana Julia, my best friend and alice's mother, my niece of the heart, wait for me! For very soon it will be living proof that for a good love story to be written, it is always necessary the help of a professional in the area. And who better and more indicated than me to give this little push? No one, of course! I have a whole plan, and I know exactly what to do. Now it's just to get your hands dirty and put the plan into practice.

Either Ana Julia marres up with that dark green-eyed temptation or I'm not Michele Antunes!

I apart from the plans and make-up thoughts that my mind is plotting all the time, when the sound indicating a call on my cell phone cuts the silence of the environment.

Thank God I have an individual room just for me and my privacy at work. Well, room is not the very correct term for the place I occupy, where there is only a simple wooden table, the chair I occupy this very minute, and a small armchair that sits in the corner of the wall next to the fern vase I got from Mom on my last birthday. Cubicle three by three is the most appropriate definition for the site.

But it's okay, this is only temporary. In addition, I'm better than many former employees of the company, because at least I have a room and very soon I will get the promotion of my dreams. I will fly high and no one will be able to stop me!

Hello, what's going on? Are you busy now? I can call you later if you're interrupting...

Hey, Mom. Don't turn it off! - I exclaim in a hurry. - I'm sorry it took me so long to serve you. I was just reviewing a text I have to deliver by the weekend, but I'm way ahead of schedule. You can talk now, I'm on my free time.

I look at the digital clock in front of me and confirm that I still have twenty minutes left in lunchtime.

How are you? Have you left the office yet? What did the doctor say? Did he give you the test results you did? -I question the answer and squeeze the pat of the pen, which I remove from the treco, frantically in a tic-nervous.

Concern has been my second name for a few months since Mom began manifesting certain episodes of malaise, which started with short breaks until they became quite frequent, to the point that in one of these crises, Ms. Lena had to be taken unconscious to the hospital.

This was the most terrifying day of my life and I only had the strength to face the situation, because Julia was by my side all the time supporting me. She didn't mind leaving her little girl at home with a neighbor, and running early into her pajamas in the carnival-colored orange to the hospital just to hug me when I called her for comfort.

So, what's up? - I insist when I see that the line is mute for a moment. Hello, what's going on? Mom, are you there?

I'm still here, my sweetie. But according to the doctor, not for long. -her voice strikes tired and destiture when she responds again.

What's going on? What do you mean, Mom? - I laugh nervously without understanding the joke.

She's got to be kidding, right? Dona Lena loves to make a cute whenever possible.

It's the natural law of life, sweetie. The older ones an hour have to make room for the younger ones in the food chair. -it emits a hoarse laugh that is interrupted by a dry cough.

Mom, stop saying those things. This is already losing its fun. - I'm scolding her without the remnants of humor from seconds ago.

But I'm not lying, much less playing with you, if that's what you're thinking, my daughter. -she sighs on the other side and I hold the apprehensive breath.

I get my eyes to notice that this really time she's serious, and then I realize the gravity of the matter.

My mom's sick.

What did the doctor say you have? -I'll keep asking you to swallow dry.

Lung cancer. - she answers in the can and it's like I'm lost on the floor.

No, no, no, no, no, no No, no, no, no, no, no, no, -I mumble feebly shaking my head in denial with the tearful views.

But it is and there's nothing that can change that fact, sweetie.

Mom says in a condescending tone that causes me to shed the tears I was holding.

- You know... she goes on in a melancholy way. - I've had the good and the best in this life. God has given me the gift of having a wonderful daughter like you, sweetie. But the only regret I will take with me to the grave in the time I have left is that I cannot fulfill the dream of seeing my little princess married to a good man. It really fills my heart with frustration and sadness.

I babble dwell without knowing how to react.

I understand, child. You can't have everything, I know that. Career always comes first, doesn't it? That's what matters most. -it cuts me off and the sadness in its words causes something to break inside me.

I must be a terrible daughter, I think to myself. What kind of person denies a simple request to a mother as loving and dedicated as mine?

I close my eyes and let my back fall defeated on the back of the chair. May God forgive me for the sin I am about to commit, but even if I have to sell an organ on the black market, I will fulfill my mother's last wish.

So it's with this crazy and very wrong idea fixed on my head, that I open my mouth and say the worst I've ever said in my life, sentencing myself completely:

- Mom, I guarantee you'il be well-known to see my wedding. Didn't I tell you I'm engaged?