SELFLESS OR SELL OUT?

CHAPTER 4

PURIFY YOUR HEARTS, YOU DOUBLE MINDED (JAMES 4:8)

            As Ellen began to drive down the long driveway, she noticed a female form walking. The young woman was wearing tight jeans and red cowboy boots. She would know those boots anywhere. It must be Sylvia, her daughter’s best friend.

            She felt relief that Sylvia would be joining her Mary Jean on the horseback riding excursion with John McQueen. But when she got close, the girl with a ponytail running through the back of a baseball cap wasn’t Sylvia. It was Mary Jean.

            “Hi Honey, what are you doing wearing Sylvia’s boots? And are those her pants?”

            “What were you doing at John McQueen’s house, and apparently driving his car?”

            “The Falcon wouldn’t start, and, um, Mr. McQueen very kindly insisted that I borrow his car.”

            “Where did you break down at?”

            “His driveway.”

            “And why were you in his driveway?”

            “I wanted to have a word with him.”

            “About what?”

            “About his intentions with my teenage daughter.”

            “Mom! How embarrassing!”

            “Now… You tell me why you are not only wearing Sylvia’s boots, but her extra tight jeans.”

            “Because I don’t have any jeans that fit, and we can’t afford any when we can barely keep the lights on. I don’t want to have to ride side saddle in a skirt.”

            They had a brief stare down before Mary Jean said mildly, “So explain to me, Mom, how is it you came to tell Mr. McQueen to stay away from your daughter, yet you come driving away in his car?”

            Ellen felt a twinge of relief that Mary Jean called him Mr. McQueen rather than John. “Oh, well, it’s one of those things… Be careful, honey. He’s very persuasive.”

            Mary Jean couldn’t help laughing. Her mom couldn’t help smiling, but she still felt concerned. “Honey, how seriously are you considering Mr. McQueen’s offer?”

            “I don’t know, Mom,” Mary Jean whined. A teenage whine from her mature beyond her years daughter was extremely rare, and Ellen’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Right now, I guess twenty-eighty.”

            “Twenty being?”

            “Twenty to accept his offer, eighty to decline. But look at this place, it would be my home. The odds of accepting may go up after today.”

            “You don’t marry money, honey. You marry for love!”

            “Who’s to say I won’t love him? I already like him better than I did. I thought he was a stern, rich old stogy. But after our interview, I discovered he’s actually really kind and pleasant.”

            “Interesting you call him ‘old,’ and your conversation about marriage an ‘interview.’”

            “Mom…”

            “Maybe he’ll take you to prom.”

            “You know I had no intention of going to prom, anyway.”

            Another brief stare down ensued with Mary Jean saying, “I better get going.”

            “Be careful, sweetie. And I don’t just mean while you’re riding a horse.”

            Mary Jean began to walk, and Ellen began to drive. After a few steps, Mary Jean turned and watched her mother drive away in John McQueen’s car. A smile played at her lips. Forty-five minutes ago she saw her mother drive past Abby’s house. Ten minutes later, John drove past in his pickup truck on his way home from church.

            So in only half an hour John had persuaded her mother to borrow his car. She was sure that if she married John, her mother would end up accepting his willingness to take care of her. As she watched the green LTD disappear, she said to herself, “Thirty-seventy.”

            Mary Jean heard a fancy chime as her finger retreated from the doorbell button. The main door was open, and she could smell something delicious through the screen door. She heard John’s voice from a distance say, “Just a minute, Mary Jean.”

            A moment later John walked briskly up to the door and opened it with a pleasant smile, inviting her in. Her own forced smile left with her surprise that he was shirtless and wearing only faded blue jeans with old cowboy boots.

            “Sorry Miss Patrick, your mother stopped by unexpectedly. My housekeeper has Sundays off, so I’m running a bit behind.”

            Mary Jean had diverted her eyes from the man naked from the waist up. “That’s okay. Sorry about my mom.”

            “No, no. I like that she’s protective.”

            John had started to put a blue flannel shirt on, but before he could, the phone rang. Mary Jean, realizing she was actually contemplating marriage with him, decided it was a prime opportunity to look him over. After all, once vows were exchanged before God and witnesses, she would have to begin the process of making a baby with this much older man.

            He surprisingly had well-toned muscles, and a soft looking blanket of salt and pepper hair covered his pectorals. He actually had six pack abs! She didn’t think that possible for someone over fifty, let alone sixty. But John wasn’t just religious about church. He religiously did a daily routine of at least fifty pushups and fifty sit-ups.

            She had recently seen Sylvia’s boyfriend in a mesh, see through t-shirt. The eighteen-year-old, two-hundred-and-fifty-pound football player’s waist was at least six inches bigger than this sixty-one-year old. And it was a keg of blubber, compared to a six pack of firm muscle.

            Since their initial interview, Mary Jean had been constantly pondering the pros and cons list on marrying John McQueen. The biggest marks against him had been their age difference and her mother’s disapproval. But after watching her mother drive away in his car, and now seeing him with his shirt off, these were huge shifts in his favor.

            Why did she think his favor? Why not their favor? The two shall become one, right? Was it still the age difference? The quick courtship? Her mother? What her friends would think of her marrying a sixty-one-year-old man when the ink wasn’t even dry on their high school diplomas? She also could have a baby a year from right now!

            John hung up the phone, and as he buttoned his shirt, he asked with an eager grin, “Are you hungry?”

            “I am, it smells good.”

            “Follow me,” John suggested, and Mary Jean was led into a dining room. There was a simple, small table, that seated four people. But the chandelier above it looked expensive. Also, the burgundy tablecloth, two candles John lit, and two wine glasses appeared to be hosting romance, not a quick lunch before a friendly horseback ride.

            “Do you like Mexican food?”

            Mary Jean almost blurted, ‘I love it.’ But with the romantic atmosphere giving her pause, she said pleasantly enough, “Sure.”

            John served up two plates of enchiladas with salad, and then asked, “Grape juice or apple juice?”

            Feeling somehow that the latter was less romantic, she replied, “Apple.”

            The food was mouth wateringly delicious. John asked, “Do you like it?”

            “Yes, it’s fantastic! Did you make it?”

            “No, my housekeeper, Rosarita, made it yesterday. She just told me how long to warm it up.”

            “She’s talented.”

            “Don’t I know it,” he grinned. “She’s been making me supper for almost ten years.”

            “Did your wife not cook?” Mary Jean asked hesitantly.

            “No, she hated cooking. Do you like to cook?”

            “I wouldn’t say I like cooking, but I don’t mind it. I’ve had to cook for my family quite a bit, what with my mom working two jobs and all.”

            “Just so you know, if you take me up on my offer, you’ll never have to cook if you don’t want to.”

            Mary Jean forced a smile and nod, and looked away, feeling uncomfortable.

            “Rosarita’s mother is Mexican, so she makes a lot of Mexican dishes,” John informed her, knowing that this ethnic cuisine was her favorite. John began to feel uneasy when she simply nodded. Then he tried, “But she does make other things.”

            “I see,” she replied mildly.

            Then they ate in awkward silence for most of their lunch. John kicked himself for trying to dazzle her with food and atmosphere. But it had been four decades since he had pursued a woman romantically. But what eighteen-year-old woman wants to be romanced by a sixty-one-year-old man? Albeit a wealthy one that’s in better shape than most.

            And what was he doing answering the door with his shirt off? Trying to show her how good of shape he was in for his age, yes, but it had creeped her out instead! He could tell by the way she looked away, embarrassed. He should have never pursued a teenager for a wife. He would get through this afternoon, and then tell her it wasn’t going to work out.

            As the two of them walked down to the corral after lunch, both were wishing the horseback ride was over already. John was already making plans to call the thirty-two-year-old woman from his church tomorrow, and Mary Jean had dropped her odds of marriage from thirty yes, and seventy no, back down to twenty-eighty. It might have gone as low as ten-ninety, but she could easily get used to Rosarita’s cooking.

            However, the animals shifted the mood. A pinto gelding came trotting up whinnying to John. He laughed and greeted his favorite horse. Seconds later, a palomino mare came wanting attention from John as well. Mary Jean admired John’s way with the horses.

            “This is Mandy,” John told Mary Jean, introducing her to the palomino. “She’s a gentle old girl. I’ll let you ride her, and I’ll take this pinto here. His name is Junior.”

            John saddled the two horses. Then he led them out to a trail that went through a timber. It was a gorgeous day, and they kept following the trail until it ended at a bluff overlooking a river, and beyond that, miles of farmland.

            “It’s so peaceful out here,” Mary Jean said with awe. “You can really feel God’s creative majesty.”

            “Yeah,” John agreed. “I come out here a lot.”

            John got down, and Mary Jean did likewise. John got a couple of apples out of a saddle bag and handed one to Mary Jean. She watched John give his to Junior, and she followed suit, giving hers to Mandy. Mary Jean’s laugh at Mandy eagerly snatching the apple and crunching away made him laugh.

            They stood admiring the view for a couple minutes when John said, “Listen Mary Jean, I’m sorry about the lunch situation. I could tell it made you uncomfortable.”

            She shrugged. “I was just expecting soup and sandwiches. I guess the candlelight and fancy wine glasses threw me a little bit is all. I really do thank you. Rosarita is a really good cook.”

            He nodded. “I know my offer of marriage is strange, especially because of our age difference. Believe it or not, it’s strange for me too. That’s why, I think, it would be best if…”

            He paused and stared off into the distance.

            “Best if what?” Mary Jean asked with a puzzled frown.

            “How about we call it off?”

            “Call what off?” Mary Jean asked, her heart beginning to beat faster. “You mean the possibility of marrying each other?”

            “Yes.”

            “Why? I thought you wanted children.”

            “I do, but there are other options for me. Options that are at least a little bit closer to my age. But here’s what I’m gonna do. Even though we are not going through with it, I’m going to pay off your mother’s debt, give her that car she borrowed, and then some. I’m also going to pay for your college so you can be a nurse, or even a doctor. As well as college for your siblings. How’s that sound?”

            Mary Jean looked confused as she processed this out of the blue declaration. “So, you’re ending things with me? But you’re still gonna take care of my family?”

            “That’s right. How’s that sound? Now your soul isn’t conflicted about marrying a man for his money just to take care of your family. Granted, you won’t be in my will, but you will be taken care of. I want your mom to be able to work one job, and I want your mom to own her own house, free of a mortgage.”

            Mary Jean just stared at him with a baffled expression.

            “Mary Jean, am I not making myself clear?” John asked with his own baffled expression.

            “You were perfectly clear,” she replied with a small voice. “That’s very generous, thank you.”

            “You’re welcome.”

            “But… Mr. McQueen, I’ve done nothing to earn what you’re doing for me, and for my family.”

            “We’ve done nothing to earn salvation, it’s a free gift from God!” He told her with a smile.

            She smiled back and wiped a tear from her eye. “Amen!”

            “Trust me, it’s no sacrifice for me, so don’t you go feeling guilty. Deal?”

            He extended his hand to shake. With a nervous laugh, she took hold of his hand and confirmed, “Deal.”