"Have you thought about it?" she said. "I thought I'd give you 24 hours." She spoke casually but seriously, clearly believing that I had changed my mind.
"No," I said, "I did not think about it. We are done talking about the necklace."
"What do you mean, done talking about the necklace?"
"I don't want to talk about the necklace. We can talk about anything else but the necklace." Oh, not anything else, let's not talk about marriage-related things at all. "Let's talk about Sherlock Holmes. Anything else, not the necklace."
I could get the locket and put it in my wallet, but I always had to keep the wallet with me. Could I do that? I didn't have to wear it, but I said I'd keep it on me.
"No," I said.
"Why are you being so stubborn?" she said.
"Why are you being so stubborn?" I said, almost laughing. "We are not talking about the necklace or the locket or anything related to it."
It was just like taking medicine. If I was sick, I took medicine, and it was just like that. Could I at least go pick up the locket tomorrow? Go on Thursday.
Give an inch, take a mile. "No."
"Okay, then go right now."
"I'm not—" I couldn't even finish because it was getting too ridiculous.
Finally, I pulled the plug: "We are not talking about this necklace anymore, goodbye!" And I hung up.
Afterwards, I was shaking, and my heart was pounding. This is getting harder and easier at the same time.
(And it's mostly getting annoying because I ACTUALLY WANT TO TALK TO HER ABOUT THINGS OTHER THAN THE NECKLACE RIGHT NOW. And I can't ask her to regale me with stories of how I learned to read until it stops being awkward. I want to ask how a family friend who was in a car accident is doing. I want to ask her how to iron clothes properly. I want her to be my goddamn mother.)