**The Proposal**
“One of the most common mistakes is to think of people as simply good, bad, stupid, or clever. A person is fluidfull of possibilities. Once foolish, now wise; once cruel, now kind, and vice versa. Thats the greatness of humanity. And thats why we should never judge. You condemn someone, and in the blink of an eye, theyve already changed,” Leo Tolstoy once scribbled in his diaries.
Arguing with genius is hardsometimes downright impossible. Life keeps proving him right, if only you look closely enough, sifting the wheat from the chaff. Then the truth becomes clear, almost something you could hold in your hands.
But today, deep thoughts feel like too much effort. Its scorching outsideproper July heat, the kind where the air bounces off sun-baked brick walls like a rubber ball, only to slump onto the pavement, hotter and more defeated than ever.
Yet inside Emily, its winter. A bitter, biting cold. So this summer? Its happening without her.
Schools just ended. Uni should be the next stepthats what any decent graduate would be thinking about. But Emilys pregnant. Unis off the table. And then theres Jaketurned out to be a proper rotter. When she told him about the baby, he just chewed his lip, stared out the window, and said:
“Sure, I was first But whos to say I was the only one?”
Emily didnt even cry. Just stood there, staring at his backcalm as you like, breathing steady. She wanted to say more, but what? She didnt know what to do herself. Then the doorbell rangher mum home from work. Jake went to answer it, exchanged a quick hello in the hallway, and left.
Mum marched straight into Emilys room. “Whats happened?” she demanded. Emily, flustered, blurted:
“Nothings happened. Im just pregnant.”
Mum stared. Then shriekedthough Emily didnt catch the words, because the sound was drowned out by the slap that followed.
And thats when winter settled inside Emily. Snow piled up, burying her under the weight of it. Cold. Empty. Outside and in.
Mum kept shouting, but snow muffles sound. So Emily perched on the edge of her bed and started cryingexcept the tears stayed inside, freezing into little crystal beads that rattled around in the hollow space where her heart used to be.
Mum stormed out. The front door slammed. Silence. And there Emily was, alone with her frozen tears in the middle of a sweltering July evening.
She curled into a ball and *then* the sobs cameproper, snotty, girl-crying. Not for herself, no. For the baby. Not even born yet, and already unwanted. By its father. By its gran. Even by her, its useless mum. Nobody was happy about it.
She fell asleep, though it was still light out. Dreamed somethingwho knows what. Woke to a hand stroking her hair.
Mum was back. “Em, love forgive me. Im a fool, and not even an old one yet. Should be celebratingmy girls all grown up. Gonna be a mum herself soon. And here I went and”
She was crying now, swiping at her cheeks. “Just one thing, thoughplease dont let it be a boy. Please dont. Men, the lot of em, theyre all well, you know. Your dad, my dadnot a single one of em ever really *got* a woman, ever knew how to be properly sorry”
And then Emily was bawling too, loud and messy. She sat up, threw her arms around her mumthe person who mattered most. And there they sat, weeping over their shared lot in life. But warm, at least. And it *was* summer, after all.
Thenthe doorbell again. Mum sniffed hard, wiped her face, stopped Emily from jumping up. “Stay there, love. Ill get it.” She smoothed her hair on the way. Tragedy or not, if theres a man at the door, you cant look a *complete* mess.
Opened the door. And there *was* a man. Two, actually. Jakeand his dad, who cleared his throat.
“Evening, Margaret. Sorry for the late hour. But this daft lad of mines told me everything, seems like.” He turned to Jake. “Or *almost* everything, eh, future grandad?”
Jake hung his head. His dad went on. “So here we are, the pair of us, to ask for your daughters hand. That is, if Emily can forgive him for that rubbish he spouted earlier.” He cuffed Jake round the ear. “Go on then, you little git. Apologise to the girl. And if she doesnt take you back, youre no son of mine!”
People *do* change. Make a mess of things, then fumble their way back. Thank goodness for mums and dads. Theyd never steer us wrong.
