“Aren’t you going to congratulate her?” my mother asked as my sister stood silent, almost as uncomfortable as I was, knowing she had gone against her promise to give me at least one month’s prior notice before getting engaged. She knew that I was caught off guard with no time to come up with a suitable and mature response. A response like, “Hey, Momma, I’m moving to Morocco,” or “Momma, did you know I was joining a convent?”

My mother’s eyes pierced through me like an infrared light. I was going to have to dig deep down for my obligatory overwhelmingly joyful response. So I dug. With all my might, I dug. Like an Egyptian excavation team searching for King Tut’s tomb. Like an Arab drilling for oil. Like a South African mining for diamonds, I dug. I dug and I dug. And as the seconds ticked by slower than a snail crossing the desert, neither striking diamonds, nor oil, nor jewels, I dug.

Still digging.

Still digging.

Still digging.

“Say something, Montana!” My mother snapped.

Managing to manufacture a smile, I faced my little sister, who stood with what appeared to be her own pre-packaged look of excitement.

“Congratulations, Sheree.”

“Well it’s about damn time. Damn is in the Bible. God knows I would have thought you would be next, Montana. I’ve been praying and praying but He answers prayer in His own time. Praise God. Well, it’s time to get Thanksgiving dinner started. Come on, Sheree. Some of Mitchell’s family is coming over and I want everything to be just right.” My mother quickly skipped toward the front door, whistling, giggling, and enjoying the moment. Almost immediately my sister attempted to follow.

“I’m right behind you, Momma,” she nervously shrilled.

“No, Sheree, why don’t you stay here so we can talk,” I said with teeth clenched. “Momma, we’ll be right behind you.”

“Are you sure, Sheree?”

With me pinching her arm, she responded in a high-pitched voice, “I’m sure.”

“Okay, but hurry up. And Montana…” she pulled me over for a private sidebar and whispered into my ear. “I know that misery loves company, but since it’s a holiday, leave misery at home. Are we clear?”

“Crystal.”

Releasing my arm, her mood instantly changed. “Well, I’ll be running along. See you both shortly.” She left the apartment.

“What the hell is going on, Sheree?” I said angrily, trembling in rage, as Sheree stood, barely able to look me in my eyes.

“Sheree, look at me.” I forced her to look me in the eye. Almost immediately she started to cry. “Don’t cry. Answer the question. What’s going on?”

“I had to do it, Montana. I can’t deal with the pressure, I’m not as strong as you,” she exclaimed as the tears ran swiftly down her face.