Husband Material

Warning: 3 short paragraphs of suggestive sexual content and 2 sentence about abortion.

I made sure I followed my hope-to-be future husband, Taylor Rift, in the cafeteria line so I could meet him. Handsome. Designer clothes. He’s even a senior with an accounting major. I’m a freshman with an accounting major. Maybe he can help me. Similar interests. We could start a business together. I smiled.

           He observed the other girl college students there, but they ignored him and spent time with their friends.

           Since he sat alone, I had my opportunity. After setting my tray on the table, I scooted my chair to sit across from him. At first, he acted like he didn’t see me, and kept looking around. I figured the reason was he didn’t know me yet.

           Determination led me to start a conversation. “Hi. I’m Brianna Dade. What’s your name?” As if I didn’t know.

           Taylor finally noticed me.

“I’m Taylor Rift,” he said before eating again.

Silent type, huh.

“My major is accounting.” Might as well impress him. “I’m getting all ‘A’s in my classes. What is your major?”

“Accounting,” Taylor said. “Are you a freshman?”

“Yes.”

“Then I guess you can’t help me with my history class.”

“I still have time to change my schedule. I loved high school history class.”

Taylor became alert. Bullseye! He asked me for a date, and we were off to a good start.

***** Tom and Taylor talk without Brianna *****

“Hi. Are you Taylor Rift?” Tom held out his hand for a handshake.

“Yes. Who are you?”

“I’m Tom Dade, Brianna’s brother.” Taylor’s handshake is soft as a worm, thought Tom. “I’m also engaged to her roommate. I thought I’d like to meet you. How long have you dated my sister?”

“About a month.”

“So, are you guys thinking about marriage?”

“Yeah. She talks about marriage all the time. And her wedding plans. My Dad’s after me to settle down. I like Brianna a lot. She’s got more curves than the blond I dated last."

“Do you live on campus?”

What “No, I live in the fraternity my Dad went to. Says I need to develop 'networks’.”

“That must be the party you’re taking her to. Are you in charge of buying the beer?”

“No. But there’ll be plenty…Sorry. You can’t come.”

“Didn’t want to. Where do you work?” asked Tom.

"I don’t. My Dad kept a college fund for me.”

“Then what keeps you busy besides studies?”

“Art. I take art classes as electives.”

“Sell any paintings?”

“No. But I designed my tattoo. Wanna see it?”

At Tom’s ‘yes’, Taylor rolled up a long sleeve to show off a dragon clutching a helpless maiden.

           Tom sucked in his breath. “Wow!”

           “That’s the reaction I want.”

           “Well,” said Tom, “I got to go study. Nice meeting you.”

***** Brianna and Cynthia talk before for the party *****

I examined my face in the mirror in the dorm room. I asked Cynthia Watson, my brother’s fiancé, “Will I please Taylor?”

“It won’t be your fault if you don’t. I don’t know why you even use makeup. Your complexion is pretty good as is. Toffee brown hair and brown eyes. I’m the one with red hair and a pale face. How will he not be happy with you?”

“Would you braid my hair? Taylor says it’ll make me look sophisticated.”

“Sure…Brianna, you’re always talking about pleasing him, but you’ve only dated him a month. And you’re already talking marriage? Didn’t your brother talk to you about Taylor? We both have a bad feeling about him.”

“Yesss. He talked to me. He’s my brother. What should I expect him to say?”

“Wait at least six months,” said Cynthia.

“Why? I know he’s the right one for me.”

“You’ve been to the church’s singles group a few times. You know the pastor emphasizes it’s more important to be the right person than to find the right person. Marriage requires patience. Give and take. Does he want children? How does he feel about borrowing money? Too much to find out if he is good husband material.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “You can learn all that after you’re married. He’s the right man for me because he loves me.”

“You don’t understand. A good husband is a gift from God. I want to make sure Tom is that good and perfect gift from above…You’re wearing that?

I wore black leggings, and a long blouse Taylor gave me. The red blouse shimmered in bright light. It had a deep ‘V’ cut neckline; I’d never worn one that low before.

“What’s wrong with it? Taylor will be impressed.”

“The blouse barely covers your butt. The ‘V’ cut—no comment.”

“I don’t care. I’m going anyway.”

***** At the frat party *****

           Four tall pillars supported the front porch of the fraternity house. The balcony on the third floor looked delicate against the rest of the house. The Greek letters proclaimed the organization name, but I couldn’t read it.

           When we entered, the size of the receiving area and main room took my breath away. Both men and women milled around conversing and changing people to talk to.

           “You must have a lot of friends here,” I said to Taylor

           “Some. I would prefer my own apartment. More privacy, you know. But my Dad used to go here and thought I should too. He’s taking care of all my expenses.”

           I looked at the other sorority women wearing slacks, expensive jewelry, and their boyfriend’s lettering jacket. I looked at myself, then at Taylor.

           “You didn’t tell me I would look out of place,” I spread my shirt, “in this.”

           “What does it matter what the others think? I’m your boyfriend. You’re dressing for me. And I think you’re beautiful.”

            I had little in common with the people Taylor introduced me to.

           When alone again, I said to him, “They’re looking at me like I’m from outer space.”

“They’re just jealous of my stunning woman.”

I was comforted by his words. Then I heard some good dance music in the next room. “Let’s dance.”

           Taylor took me to a large room emptied of furniture because of the wood floor for dancing. Several people danced to salsa music. Taylor held me close, then farther away, then close again. Taylor leaned me over backward and gave my butt a squeeze. I smiled at him. So what if Cynthia and Tom didn’t approve? I enjoyed being with my future husband.

Some of the people watching snickered at me stepping on Taylor’s toes.

“What we need is more privacy,” said Taylor. My room is on the third floor.” He put his arm around me. “Let’s go up there and I’ll show you around.”

I put my arm around his waist on the way to the elevator.

           I stepped onto the balcony and lifted my face to the breeze. “I would love to wake up to this.” I turned to face Taylor with a hand still on the railing. Do you come out here every morning?”

           “Sometimes. See those cars out there?” I saw Corvettes, BMWs, and one or two Cadillacs. “They belong to my frat brothers. That blue Lexus is mine.” He looked down at my face, then lifted it to his for a kiss.

           When he took my waist and started to kiss my neck, I snuggled into his arms. Then his hand slipped onto my skin through the neckline. I pushed back on him. “Are…are you sure we should do this?”

           Taylor came close to hold my face in his hands. “We’ll be married in a few months. Why not consummate the marriage a little early?”

           Sure, I thought. Why not? That would bind him closer to me. I reached for his belt. I won’t let him go until I get what I want: marriage. 

***** Two months later *****

           I sat between Cynthia and Tom on my parents’ couch. My eyes were red from crying and rubbing. The box of tissues was nearly gone. My brother and his fiancé—sitting on each side of me—held my hands and rubbed my back.

           Both agreed. “You have to tell Mom and Dad, Brianna. They can help you now.”

           “Taylor dumped me.” I blew my nose. “I can’t believe he dumped me because I’m pregnant. We were going to be married. He said we were just doing it a little early.

“Mom and Dad won’t love me anymore,” I blubbered.

“That’s not true. And you know it,” said Tom. “They may even want a grandchild.”

Cynthia rolled her eyes at the last statement.

“Have you told Taylor?” asked Cynthia.

“Yes.” I gave a tearful answer. “That’s when he said he never wants to see me again.”

“Then I take it, he isn’t going to provide child support and get visitation rights.”

           “No.” I blew my nose and took a moment to speak again. “Even Taylor’s father is against me. When I told him, he denied that it could be Taylor. He accused me of sleeping around and being a gold digger. He said if I pushed it, he would take me to court.”

           Mom and Dad came through the front door and stopped to stare.

           “It was Taylor, wasn’t it?” growled Dad.

           All I could do was nod.

           “You’re pregnant,” said Mom.

           Again, I nodded.

           “Tom. Cynthia,” said Dad. “We will take your places.” Cynthia and Tom stood to let Dad and Mom take their places on the couch. After Brianna gave a brief rundown of the situation, all three sat in silence.

           “Sin is like a snapping turtle,” said Dad. The closer you let yourself get to it, the more likely you will be bit. You got bit good.”

“Why didn’t you stop me?”

“You’re nineteen. You’re of age. Did you want us to meet out punishment? Cynthia said she brought up the verse ‘every good and every perfect gift is from above’. And that a good husband is a gift from God. We tried to tell you to take it slow. Tom and Cynthia are closer to your age, and you wouldn’t listen to them. Some people have to learn the hard way. And you are one of them.”

“Didn’t you see the signs?” asked her mother.

“What signs?” I asked.

“The blouse he bought for you. He did things just to please his father. He accepted your sacrifices for him and gave you none in return.”

“The deed is done,” said Dad. “We can spend a lot of money to make him do what he doesn’t want to do. Is that what you want?”

“I don’t know,” I muttered. “I don’t want to marry him anymore.”

“I’d rather spend the money on my grandchild,” said Mom.

“I’ve thought about abortion.”

“I’d go for killing the father, but not the baby,” said Dad. I looked at him. “But I won’t…We need to make plans.”

“You’ll stay with us until you can get on your feet. We’ll try to foot the expenses.”

“How will I finish college?”

Dad looked down before speaking to me. “I think you should quit college. It’s a big expense. Living at home will save a lot of money. A lot of degrees prepare the graduate to be a manager. I’m not sure you’re ready for that.”

           “Then what’ll I do? Be a waitress all my life?”

“You may start that way, but I was thinking ‘trade school’. You should be able to graduate after one or two years. Way less time and money than a college degree. Why don’t you research it?”

“Maybe…I don’t know what trade.”

“I have a friend who works on sewing machines. He’s three months behind. It’s good money. Maybe he’d take you on as an intern. Not especially heavy work. Not really a dirty job.”

“I’ll look into it,” I said.

***** Trade school *****

           I reached the sewing machine school door at the same time as a man about my age. I expressed my surprise when he opened it for me. He just smiled at me.

           “I brought a sewing machine to work on,” he said.

           “I brought my aunt’s old machine that doesn’t work. It’s in my trunk. I’ll get it when I need it.”

           “Could I carry it in for you? My name is Mark McGuire.”

           “I’m Brianna Dade. I’d appreciate that.”

           “I want to start a business. How about you?”

           “One step at a time. Get through the classes.”

           “Good reasoning. Would you like to go for coffee afterward, Brianna?”

           “I just broke up, and don’t want another boyfriend yet.” I’ll chase him away with the truth. “I have a baby and am living with my parents.

           “I understand. I admit I’m paying child support.” Mark looked away. “From an unplanned pregnancy.” He looked again with a smile. “But I wouldn’t trade my son for anything.”

           He wants children! What a change.

           “Can I at least give you my phone number?”

           “No thanks.”

           “I’ll wait for you to register, then I’ll walk you to your car for the sewing machine.”

           After the classes, we went out for coffee and became better acquainted about Mark and his boy. He offered his phone number again. This time I took it.

           When I was back in my room at home, the thought came, “Every good and perfect gift is from above”. Where did that thought come from? Could it be a sign from God that Mark is a made-in-heaven match?

           I dialed Mark’s number. “Hello, Mark. I’m ready to take you up on that date.”