She Should Know That No Is No Right

I will see you Thursday, she says, all settled, without my answer. Not needing it. She sells insurance. She is pushily confident. I cringe, want to bail, but do not want her to stay another hour or two. I have already wasted two hours saying no to more insurance. What will be different on Thursday? How can she not hear the word “no”? She is my cousin, she should know that no is no. Right? Of course we did lose touch for twenty-five years. She recently called me, and I answered, delighted. She said she wanted to come visit. I invited her, happy. Cleaned the house for nothing. She came in dressed as management. There was limited chatting. I kept watching the clock. My husband barricaded himself behind his office door, recognizing this type. Mouthfuls of persistent 'you-need-to-buy these' came out of her mouth. A sales presentation, under the pretense of getting re-acquainted. I doubt she knows a thing about me she did not know Twenty-five years ago. Cannot say I want to learn anything about her either. I will call and text her a cancel for Thursday when she is on her way home. She already said she cannot answer a text in the car. A clue that would have been helpful two hours sooner. I started devouring the fudge muffins I baked for no reason.