Possessive Doctor

I feel a shiver run down my spine but I shove my hand out after Dad glares at me. “Nice to meet you,” I say.

He shakes, a little too hard, and grins. “Sure, I bet. Well, come in. Let’s go talk.”

We follow him down a short hallway. The decorations are all Texas ranch classics. Deer antlers, bear skins, moose heads, horseshoes, pictures of horses, paintings of horses, and a couple cattle prods. It’s all very western and actually a little over the top.

We step into a large living room and kitchen open plan area. A young man is sitting at the island, reading the newspaper. He gets up and smiles. He’s not bad looking, a little plain, with choppy dark hair, glasses, and a simple denim shirt and black jeans combo. He’s maybe a few pounds heavy, definitely not all that in shape, but not too bad, either. He might even be handsome if he worked out a little bit.

“Hi,” he says. “I’m Michael.”

“Michael, I’m Samuel. This is my daughter, Amber. She’s real excited to meet you. Right, Amber?”

“Hey,” I say.

He smiles warmly. “Good to meet you.”

“Well, you two are hitting it off already,” Dave says. “My god, look at that.”

Michael just keeps smiling and I force myself to smile back.

“Well,” Dad says. “Should we get talking? We’ve got a lot to go over.”

“Of course, of course. Hey, why don’t you two kids go sit on the back porch and get to know each other? We’ll settle up in here, how’s that sound?”

“Sure, Dad,” Michael says. “Come on. I’ll show you the back.”

I glance at my dad but he’s already sitting down, ignoring me completely. I follow Michael, even though I don’t want to. He leads me through a back door and onto a nice screened-in porch with more porch leading beyond through a little screen door.

“So, this is weird,” Michael says.

I smile a little. “Yeah. It really is.”

He drifts over to a little chair and sits down heavily. I hesitate before sitting on a nearby wicker couch.

“Look, just so you know, none of this was my idea.”

“I didn’t think it was.”

“I mean, you’re a total stranger.” He smiles, a little bit shy. “What’s the deal with the cane, by the way?”

I shrug. “Got in an accident and broke my leg.”

“Damn. Sucks.”

“Yeah. But I should heal.”

“Good.” He laughs a little bit. “So uh, how much did your dad tell you about all this?”

“Only as much as he thinks I need to know.”

He snorts. “My dad tried that shit too.”

“But?”

“I told him I’d cut my dick off before I let him marry me off. That got his attention.”

I laugh a little. “I wish I had a dick to cut off.”

“I’m glad you don’t.” He smiles at me again. “Anyway, I know it’s weird. I’m just saying, I’m glad you’re… you know. I thought you might be, like… fat and ugly or something.”

I shiver a little bit. “Would that have mattered? I mean, we’re not doing this for love or whatever.”

“I guess not. But it’s a real fucking bonus that you’re so… hot.”

“Uh, thanks.”

He grins and stares at me. I look away and shiver again. I can see some of his father in his face, though he’s softer and rounder. He’ll be bald one day, with a huge mustache. I can almost see it, one day in the future, that man stalking around our house, talking about how he’s happy I’m not fat or ugly or something insane.

“So look. Like I said, I know this is weird, and I didn’t choose it… but people get married for worse reasons, right? I figure, we might not love or like each other now, but our kids will be set for life financially.”

“Kids?”

He hesitates. “Yeah. I mean. We’ll have kids. Which means we’ll have to… you know.”

“Have sex?”

He blushes. “Yeah. Right. I mean, eventually, maybe. One day.”

“Sure. That’s how kids happen.”

“So anyway, the money is totally worth it, and we can come to like each other, right? Lots of arranged marriages work out. I think they actually have a lower divorce rate? I don’t know, I did some quick googling last night.”

I smile at him but my mind’s whirling. I didn’t really think any of this was going to happen. I know my dad’s been talking about it, we’ve been fighting about it, but this is the first time I’m actually meeting the guy I’m supposed to marry.

And he’s fine. He’s a little awkward, a little uncomfortable, and maybe kind of a dick, but he’s not terrible.

I’m not attracted to him in the slightest and I don’t want to marry him at all.

But he seems down with the idea. And based on the way he keeps looking at me, I think he’s actually excited for it.

He starts talking more about arranged marriages. I take out my phone and pull up Brent’s number.