SELFLESS OR SELL OUT?

CHAPTER 2

APRIL 12, 1980

            “No, I do not approve of you marrying a man in his sixties!” Marry Jean’s mother practically shouted.

            “Mom, keep it down,” Mary Jean said as she glanced toward her siblings’ bedrooms. “I just told you what John McQueen offered me. I didn’t say I was going to accept.”

            “Well, you must be considering it, or you wouldn’t have brought it up.”

            “I want you to have a good life, and John assured me you would never have to work again.”

            It occurred to Mary Jean that she just used her potential husband’s first name for the first time without his last name attached to it.

            Through gritted teeth, Ellen Patrick told her daughter, “Mary Jean, you marry for love, period! Not for somebody’s money.”

            “Who’s to say I won’t love him?”

            “Who’s to say you will? Rich people are different. They covet power and control. Do you want to spend the prime of your life living under someone’s thumb? I lived under your father’s thumb, and he wasn’t even rich, just the opposite. As a matter of fact, I’m still under his thumb as I try to keep my head above water with the debt he left me.”

            “And that’s exactly why I’m considering John’s offer!”

            Mary Jean was startled by her own words. Was she really considering his offer? She also called him John again. After all, he invited her to. Everyone else called him Mr. McQueen.

            “You are not gonna trade sex for his wealth. Period!”

            “John’s not like that,” Mary Jean said with a blush due to her mom saying sex with herself in the context. It occurred to her yet again that she wouldn’t even consider being courted by a man in his sixties if he was, say, the mail man. But she still attempted to sell herself on the idea. “He’s actually very kind, and thoughtful. He’s also nice looking, kind of like Clint Eastwood. He wants to make me his wife, not a mistress.”

            “Is he now? And how long have you known this kind and thoughtful man in his sixties, who wants to get into the skirt of a teenager?”

            “Mom!” Mary Jean felt herself blush even deeper than before, as she glanced at her siblings’ bedrooms again. “The plain truth is men of wealth, men of power, are in fact different. Solomon, one of the authors of the Bible, and a king, had seven hundred wives. I would be John’s only wife. I believe him to be a Godly man.”

            “Is he? Is he going to join our church then?” her mom asked with hands on hips. They both seemed to sense that they were beginning to speak as if Mary Jean was in fact going to become the bride of John McQueen. “I mean if you were to marry him, which you’re not.”

            “He said he would go to my church as much as I went to his church.”

            “Mary Jean, I know we haven’t talked about this much. But I grew up in the church, fell away, met your dad, became pregnant with you, and returned to church. The only time your dad set foot in our church was to get married. After that all did was mock my beliefs.”

            “John’s the opposite of Daddy,” Mary Jean said defiantly. But then she recalled that he did give his sister Abby grief when she first joined their church. Yet he appeared to have recanted of his initial disapproval.

            Mother and daughter stared at each other for a long moment. Mother had her hands on her hips, while her daughter stood with crossed arms. Then Mary Jean asked, “So, Mother, are you gonna forbid me to see him as I weigh the pros and cons of his proposal?”

            “You’re an adult.”

            “Not quite.”

            “Close enough to make your own decisions in the matter. But know this. I don’t approve and will not accept a dime of his money.”

            “If I’m his wife, it would be a dime of mine.”

            “No, it would still be his dime. He’s the one that earned it and controls it. You would acquire it by undressing for him, and…”

            “Mom! Don’t go there!”

            “Why? That’s the reality of our whole discussion, isn’t it? Yes, you may say vows before God and witnesses. But you want the security of his money, and he wants you to make babies. Not only that I’m sure he very much wants to engage in the process by which babies are made.”

            “Mom!”

            “I don’t know how well I taught you the birds and bees, but would you like to talk about what this sixty-one-year-old man is gonna want to do with his eighteen-year-old bride after the wedding?”

            The bedroom door Mary Jean shared with her sister rattled open, ending her conversation with her mother.

            “You better get ready for church,” her mother said softly, as she stroked the side of Mary Jean’s head. She took her mother’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze as she forced a smile.

            Mary Jean looked at herself in the mirror after she removed her nightgown. She did look good, she guessed. Her body was sleek, slender, and with nice curves. But what did Jo… Mr. McQueen really see in her? There were plenty of girls, women, prettier than her in town.

            Well, he hasn’t seen this yet, she thought, and then began to quickly dress. And most likely never would!

            ASSUREDLY I SAY TO YOU THAT IT IS HARD FOR A RICH MAN TO ENTER THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN.

            Matthew 19:23 was one of the many verses John McQueen had memorized. He knew the following verses as well. Verse 23 had always troubled him after he became a millionaire. But then Jesus’s disciples asked, “Who then can be saved?”

            Jesus’s reply in verse 26 gave him comfort. “With men this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”

            John closed his Bible and closed his eyes. Was his desire for Mary Jean wrong? He believed in his heart that his attraction to her went beyond her physical appearance. He was drawn to her character. He liked what a wholesome, nice young lady she was. She was so good with his sister. Thoughtful, diligent, caring. He knew in his heart she would make a great mother.

             If he had only wanted a pretty young thing, there were plenty of fish easier to reel in. And he wasn’t after any thrill of the chase either. He had simply become intrigued with Mary Jean after she started working for Abby, and that intrigue had grown, and grown, and grown. It was now to the point that he wondered if it was an unhealthy obsession.

            He opened his Bible again and read the scripture Mary Jean had brought up during their interview. It was Jeremiah 17:9. ‘The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked, who can know it?’ He read verse ten also. ‘I, the Lord, search the heart, I test the mind, even to give every man according to his ways, according to the fruit of his doings.’

            He closed the Good Book again, as well as his eyes. A minute later, he opened his eyes and glanced at the package on the corner of his desk. Right there was a test of his mind. It was the tenth time he had looked at the parcel since he received it yesterday from UPS. It was from his old army buddy Max Morrison, and his only close friend that wasn’t particularly religious.

            He knew what was in the box. Ever since he confided in his old friend a decade ago that his sex life was lacking, Max began sending him his recent Playboy magazines, mixed in with magazines of western stories. He did this four times a year, every quarter. He never knew how the periodicals were supposed to help with the intimacy factor of his marriage, but they did provide a carnal thrill.

            But the erotic magazines only seemed to exacerbate his lack of sex with his wife. This led to another bate that his church referred to as self-abuse. But he was determined not to actually cheat on his wife with a live person. It also caused a seemingly endless sin and repent cycle. Only three times in ten years had he burned the magazines in his fireplace before giving them a thorough examination.

            Why did they come the very day he made his proposal to Mary Jean? Was it a sign that God disapproved of him pursuing the young lady? Or was God testing him to see if he would throw them in the fire without looking at them? Would this prove he deserved the young girl? Correction, young woman.

            He grabbed the package and marched to the fireplace. He didn’t even want to fish out the westerns he enjoyed reading before bed. He tossed the box into the flames, then returned to his desk and placed his head in his hands. The jangling of the phone made him jump.

            “McQueen,” he unintentionally barked into the phone.

            “Johnny,” Max Morrison’s voice chuckled into his ear. “Rough day at the office?”

            “You might say that.”

            “Did you get my package?”

            “I did.”

            “What did you think of Miss February? Is she like the cutie pie you described?”

            John’s sinful nature caused him to feel a twinge of regret. Did Miss February resemble Mary Jean? He sighed. “I didn’t look at them, Max. I threw them in the fireplace.”

            “You what!”

            “I told you not to send them anymore.”

            There was a pause. “I didn’t think you were serious… Anyway, did you make cutie pie your offer yet?”

            It was Max who had convinced him to pursue Mary Jean instead of the thirty-two-year-old member of his own church. It was a sales pitch he was currently regretting buying into. “I did.”

            “Did she accept?”

            “She didn’t say no. As a matter of fact, I’m taking her horseback riding tomorrow.”

            “Hey, hey, hey! It sounds like you’re in! Just be a gentleman, let her take in the palatial estate where she will be living, and you can reel in the best catch of your life. You’ll get to share a bed with your own personal playmate.”

            He felt nauseous at Max referring to sweet Mary Jean in company with Playboy models. The scripture (James 1:8), a double minded man is unstable in all his ways, began echoing in his head. He couldn’t tell if his intentions with Mary Jean were noble or carnal.

            He truly wanted to give her a good life, and he intended to pay off her family’s debts no matter what. He also felt he was still young enough to father a family, and this required a woman of childbearing years. However, there was a side of his motives motivated by years of secretly looking at Playboy. Mary Jean, in his mind, was the ultimate girl next door. Correction, woman next door.

            No, she wasn’t next door. She lived in a trailer park, and as Max said, he had a palatial estate. Although John had aged well, he knew she wouldn’t even consider marrying him if he was, say, a mechanic. But Jennifer, the thirty-two-year-old from church, slightly overweight, but pretty enough, just might.

            “Actually Max, I’m having second thoughts about Mary Jean. I think I’m gonna pursue the first woman I told you about.”