Here, Have a Husband

by Heather Gean

  Christoph’s face was redder than the wine in his glass. He took very little of what Sarah said into stride. “You’re worried about Ashley marrying a Congressman’s daughter when your own daughter is sitting at our table with a boy damned near homosexual? Your priorities are fucked, my dear.” Mrs. Schroeder lowered her head and grew quiet like a sulking cat with bristled fur. I hadn’t minded being outside of the mix, but my heart began to beat heavily in my throat at mention of me. I glanced over at Ashley who was also staring at his plate. Salmon had never looked so interesting.

  “Just because he doesn’t eat meat doesn’t make him gay!” Penelope exclaimed. Her voice grew shrill, and her face was flaming crimson. “I don’t see how Mom even puts up with you. After all you’ve done! After the scandal she’s covered up for you all these years and how you abandoned--”

  “That’s enough!” Mr. Schroeder’s voice thundered through the dining room. Dead silence settled around us.

  Ashley finally reached over and took a long drink from his previously untouched glass of wine and nearly emptied it before returning it to the table. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. If he had a drinking problem, I’m not sure I blamed him.

  “I’m done,” Penelope said. “I’m not part of this family anymore.” Walker rolled her eyes from across the table as her twin stood up defiantly. Mr. Schroeder’s face only grew a darker shade of burgundy. I had to admit, I had a growing amount of respect for Penelope Schroeder.

  “Your inheritance is gone, then! Your claim to any of this is gone!” he yelled. When he slammed his hand down on the table, the silverware clattered.

  “This is so goddamn stupid!” Walker said.

  Penelope grabbed Sebastian by the hand and was already storming out. “That’s okay. I’m sure you can have a few more illegitimate children to take my place,” she spat. “Oh wait, you don’t claim those either.” After a few slamming doors, things grew quiet once again. The tension was stifling; I scarcely breathed.

  “Ugh!” Walker said. “I’m going out.” She strutted out, everyone now ignoring the fact that she may as well not have had a skirt on at all. Her heels clicked until they could no longer be heard.

  Mrs. Schroeder’s face was downturned, and her fork remained poised in her hand over her plate. She showed no sign of moving. Mr. Schroeder took one last dramatic drink of his wine and threw the glass against the tile floor. The shattering sound raked over my already frazzled nerves. Ashley finished off his own wine directly after his father stalked out. I half-expected him to comfort his mother or at least say something, but instead he rose and began to exit. He didn’t motion for me until he reached the door, but even then he looked right through me. His emotions were gone. I felt sorry for him, for all of them.

  Ashley was almost out the front door by the time I caught up with him. I stopped myself from asking questions, but so many danced around in my head. We stepped outside, and Ashley collapsed into the driver’s seat of the car waiting by the front door thanks to the valet who had probably been tipped off by the yelling to preempt a few early departures from dinner. It was a black sports car and was shiny enough to belong in a showroom. The man in the blazer helped me into the passenger seat. My door was barely closed before Ashley started the engine and sped down the driveway. The smell of leather overtook me, and the two-seater made me feel claustrophobic. The ride promised to be quiet and uncomfortable but still a relief from the large dining room I hadn’t imagined could feel so small.

  Once I could do so without cringing, I thought back to dinner. Penelope had said a lot of things that sparked my curiosity. Illegitimate children? Long-term scandal? My imagination wandered as I stared out the window at the passing tree line. Perhaps Christoph Schroeder was a drug lord or a mafia man. Maybe he had a double life with a second family. It surprised me that the media hadn’t gotten hold of whatever it was. That meant it was well-guarded, and also indicated that I shouldn’t ask about it. But just because I couldn’t talk about it didn’t keep me from wondering.

  As I nervously brought my hand to my face, the large diamond on my finger slid coldly across my bottom lip. This may have been my one shot at legal marriage, but I was growing more terrified of it by the minute; children have this inevitable way of ending up like their parents. I felt like I was predicting my own death, and it was a series of yelling, alcohol-drowned arguments, empty stares, and fake smiles. But thanks to too many movies, I knew what supposedly happened to people who tried to cheat death, and it always caught up with them.

  ~*~

  We ended up in some classy bar with a bunch of Ashley’s college friends who’d been called and informed to meet us early. The mock jukebox was playing some fast jazz rhythm over the speakers. The guys wore their best suits, and the girls donned their highest heels. We all sat in a semi-circular booth positioned a bit higher than the rest. Ashley wore me on his arm like a second-place trophy with a new coat of polish. He could say all the pretty words he wanted, but I wasn’t what he wanted. He kept me out of most conversations and forgot to order me drinks whenever the waiter came around.

  His friends were generic, too, as were their drink orders and conversations: martinis all around topped with talk of money. Lucas was the heir to a gaming technology fortune, which in theory could make for a very interesting person, except that he knew nothing about gaming or business. He spent five minutes excitedly explaining how his family was going to outsmart those bastards in China. Then there was Sterling, who had not only a strange name but distractingly white teeth and a fake tan. Since college he had spent a lot of time lounging around his family’s resorts in exotic locations. His stories were the most interesting, as were the dates he brought along. Yes, I mean dates, as in he came with two. One was a Playboy bunny with her very expensive breasts nearly falling out of her top onto the table, and her only role was to whisper things seductively in his ear from time to time. The other was a Japanese fashion model he had picked up only last weekend who spoke absolutely no English, but since she was a model, I could probably conclude that she was about as interesting as a stick of gum. This did not discourage her from engaging in conversation with a jumble of Japanese and a dazzling smile. She was persistent even though she only received confused laughs in return. I marveled at her enthusiasm. If they sold that kind of enthusiasm, I would buy it in bulk and charge it to Ashley’s credit card.

  Then, of course, there was Van. He didn’t say a whole lot, except to toss in a smirky comment that no one took the effort to understand, or to order something for himself besides a martini to drink. From the tabletop up, he looked like he fit in. His hair was a bit wilder, his face a few days unshaved, his arms inked with artwork, but his button-down shirt and loosely knotted tie kept him from sticking out. If he hadn’t been sitting on the end of the booth with his gray Vans hanging out into the walkway, few would have noticed that he also wore a black studded belt and black pants. Most probably wrote him off as some rich artist, but I still couldn’t quite figure out how he fit into the mix.

  Ashley checked his watch at the first pause in the boring conversation. “Man, I wonder where Dee is?”

  Lucas’s eyes widened. “Dee is coming? Man, it’s been a while!” He chuckled and shook his head in devious reminiscence. Hopefully Dee was the life of this party.

  Ashley put his arm back around my shoulders. Lucas finally seemed to realize that I was sitting there. He leaned his elbows on the table. “So, Rainy, is it?” I gave him a nod. “Where did Uncle Sam snatch you up from?”

  I smiled at his already noticeably tipsy demeanor. “Memphis.”

  “Egypt? They’re going international now?”

  “Tennessee,” I said over the rim of my glass. Lucas slouched into the real-leather seat of our table.

  “I guess that explains the accent. Sort of like Gone with the Wind.” How many times would I have to hear that comparison? Lucas straightened up again with something new to say. “Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s sexy as hell.”
>
  I laughed, not because I was flattered but because he seemed too affected by two or three martinis, or maybe because he was just that brash. Ashley tugged me closer to him and lightly kissed my temple. “So do I,” he said. His attempt to mark me as his territory annoyed me, and I scooted away to put a few inches between us the second I could.

  “What do you think?” Lucas asked the Japanese model. Her eyes sparkled when she realized someone was talking to her. She eagerly spat out a lone line of Japanese that only sent Lucas into laughing hysterics. “Man, Sterling, why do you keep her around?”

  Sterling grinned and gave her a once over as if he might rape her right there. “Well, I can tell you it isn’t for the meaningful conversation.” Lucas and Ashley shared a laugh. I glanced over at Van who swirled the ice around in his drink. He didn’t look amused, but then again, that was Van for you.

  “Hey, it’s Dee!” Lucas yelled. He stood up on the seat to give a loud greeting. I ate the first olive off of the toothpick in my drink. Just when I thought I was out of college-life and through associating with guys who made drunken scenes in bars, there I was reliving the scenes all over again.

  Ashley’s arm instantly slid from around my shoulders. “Dee!” they all said in unison. I didn’t look over my shoulder to catch a glimpse of this new guy. He couldn’t have been any richer or more presumptuous than the rest of the lot. I noticed across the table that Van looked expectant, like he was watching a train rumble towards its crashing point. I had very little time to read into his expression.

  “Hello-hello, boys!” a girl said. She pranced up to our table in an extremely sexy little dress. She looked like a model, the kind of girl that made you fight to keep your self-confidence while in her presence. She dazzled everyone.

  Ashley leaned across me to trade cheek-kisses with her. Unexpected jealously bubbled up inside of me. I went to take an indignant drink of my martini but was met with an empty glass. Instead, I slid the last olive off of my toothpick. Without introductions, Dee crawled over Van with an awkward giggle and sat right across from Ashley. He, Lucas, and Sterling were obviously taken with her presence, but it was Ashley’s attention to her that somewhat unnerved me.

  “How the hell have you been?” he asked her.

  “Oh, you know me,” she responded. They all laughed. Oh, how clever.

  Sterling leaned across his Japanese model to take Dee’s hand and kiss it. “Dee, you look absolutely ravishing.” Even her giggle was melodious and pretty. “I would take you over these two any night,” then added to the Playboy bunny, “No offense, babe.”

  “What did I miss?” she asked.

  “Nothing but business talk,” Ashley said.

  Lucas asked, “How are your business ventures since college, Dee?”

  “Well, I just started a new perfume line. It got off to a rocky start, but I guess that has something to do with all those classes I slept through during college.” She caught Ashley laughing and pointed him out. “Those were all your fault! Too many late nights.”

  Ashley agreed and then reprimanded himself. “Speaking of drinks, what will you have? We’ve all been having martinis.”

  “Sounds great! Bring me two. I have catching up to do.”

  Ashley flagged down the waiter and ordered up another round for everyone. I was sick of the taste of martinis. After Van put in his order, I caught the waiter before he walked away. “I’ll have whatever he’s having.” Van, still curiously holding his empty glass, half-smiled at me across the table.

  “Oh, Ashley, who’s your friend?” Dee asked.

  Ashley looked at me as if he suddenly remembered I was there. “Oh! God, I’m so rude. This is my fiancée, Rainy. Rainy, this is Dee.” Dee reached a perfectly manicured hand across the table to shake my mine, noticing the ring instantly. She raised an eyebrow at Ashley.

  “Fiancée?” she gasped. “Wow! I never thought it would happen. Ashley Schroeder getting married!” I was uncomfortable with the way she marveled at that. “Legal?”

  Ashley nodded. “Yes, dear. This is my perfect match.” He finally snaked his arm around my shoulders again.

  Dee laughed. “No kidding?” I smiled at her as I thought of how much I hated every generic statement she made. “When is the wedding?”

  “December,” he said vaguely. “We haven’t officially set a date. You will receive an invitation, Dee.” He smirked at her.

  Dee finally spoke directly to me. “Have you decided on a dress? Oh, please let me make it. Or, my company, that is. We do dresses, and they’re fabulous.”

  “Thanks, but I already have one.” Dee’s expression drooped.

  “Who made it? That Vera Wang is putting up such competition.”

  “I’m not sure actually. I just thought it was pretty.”

  Dee raised an eyebrow. This was a habit of hers that was already annoying me. People shouldn’t have eyebrows if they’re going to use them in such aggravating ways. “Is that allowed?” she asked. Her eyes darted to Ashley.

  “Oh, Rainy, why don’t you let Dee make it? You have to be able to tell the press who made your dress. It should be an original,” he said in her defense.

  “No, really, it’s fine,” I insisted.

  The waiter appeared with the drinks. After he had cleared away all of the empty glasses, he added the new ones to the table. Everyone dove in and grabbed a martini, but I took the dark mystery concoction in the glass with ice. I was quick to take a drink, and I hoped it was strong. My tongue was instantly confused. I winced a little at the surprise, and noticed Van trying to hold in a laugh.

  “You can have anyone in the world make your dress,” Sterling said. “You’re in the Candyland now, babe. Act like it.”

  “I won’t even charge you,” Dee said. “It will be beautiful.”

  I finally determined that the liquor was spiced rum. I took another drink as the entire table minus Van and the Asian mute continued to coax me into agreeing to hand over my rights to the wedding dress. “But I have the perfect dress, really, otherwise I would love for you to make it,” I said with a feigned smile. “You’re so sweet to offer.”

  “Oh, hell, just call my secretary and we’ll set up an appointment for you two. I’m trusting you to make my bride look beautiful, Dee,” Ashley said. As they laughed and chattered over the finer details, and I realized I had just been overruled, I resented Ashley’s statement. As if I wasn’t beautiful already? Mr. Schroeder should have chosen his phrasing more carefully.

  I lifted the glass to my lips again. Root beer was the other ingredient. It was an unusual mix. I sent my gaze across the table to Van. He winked at me, and for a few seconds I forgot that I was in a New York bar with Ashley and his stale friends. I genuinely smiled behind the safety of my glass.

  “Oh my god, Ash, this is our song!” Dee squealed. Lucas and Sterling all got equally excited. It was some annoying hip hop song that was played out in clubs a few years ago, but apparently it was Dee and Ash’s song.

  “Let’s dance!” Lucas proposed.

  Ashley, who had enough drinks in him by this point to honestly forget his obligations to me, shooed me to standing so they could all slide out. “Just one quick dance,” he said to me. Obviously I wasn’t invited to dance, but that was preferable considering the circumstances.

  I sat back down with a sigh. I was left at the table with Van and the Japanese model. She was blinking like a goldfish. I looked at the ice left in my glass once I finished off the rest. Van eyed me from across the table. An annoying, repetitive bass rhythm vibrated through my bones.

  “What?” I asked him.

  “You aren’t having a good time.”

  “What’s it to you?” I was being spiteful, I knew, but sometimes I just needed to be so.

  He finally pulled himself out of his slouched position and leaned his forearms on the table. “I’ll tell you a secret,” he said. His brown eyes looked into mine deviously. I prompted him with an expectant blink. “I’m not either.” Van flagged down
the waiter and placed another drink order.

  “Why are you here?” I asked. “You haven’t said a word all night.”

  “Neither have you.”

  I shook my head at him. “These are supposed to be your friends.”

  Van shook his head at me. “Ashley is my friend, but that doesn’t make his friends my friends.”

  I mocked his position and leaned forward on the table. It was a staring game of sorts, and the object seemed to be to get closer and make a better point. “I don’t believe that you are friends with Ashley. I haven’t seen you two speak once.”

  “I’m a man of few words.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. I studied him for a few moments, his innocent brown eyes and the way a few strands of his dark hair fell across his brow line, his boyish grin and his five o’clock shadow, all the way down to the tattoos on his arms. Nothing gave a clue as to how I should interpret him, really. All the vague answers were there, but nothing tangible presented itself. I spent so much of my time with Van trying to figure out his mystery, but perhaps he didn’t have one. Maybe he was just as boring as the rest of them.

  “What?” he asked.

  “I think you’re a fraud.”

  Van smiled in surprise and nodded slowly. “Explain your theory.”

  “You’re a walking contradiction. You go to secretive rock concerts, but you also hang out in fancy New York bars. You don’t make sense.” It wasn’t the most well thought out statement I had ever made. I blamed it on the liquor finally fogging my head.

  “So are you. You went to a secretive rock concert, and you are hanging out in a fancy New York bar. We’re not as different as you seem to think.” He grinned at me. “People are contradictions.”

  “Stop playing mind games with me, Van.” But he only continued to smile. It was contagious. “And stop smiling like that.” He contorted his smile into a barely controlled, straight-lipped expression. It was hilarious, and all of my ridiculous annoyance with him melted into laughter. “I can’t stand that you do that.”