The Shotgun Marriage

I loved this woman with all my heart, but I wasn’t sure about marrying her. She had been talking about it for weeks, but I demurely dismissed it.

“Do you love me?” She would ask.

“I love you with all my heart,” I would respond.

“Shouldn’t two people who love each other get married?” She would then ask. “And spend their lives together?”

I would stumble upon my words and try to think of something coy or brilliant to say.

“Rachel, let’s just date and see how things go,” I would reply as I couldn’t think of anything more profound.

One evening we were lying on the floor of my apartment. I was putting together a birdhouse her parents had brought her from the famed Rock City tourist attraction. It resembled the red barns with black roofs that advertised Rock City on your way to Tennessee through certain states. I finished putting it together and Rachel was pleased. We started to roll and cajole on the floor playfully with each other. She climbed atop of me, straddling me, and looked down at me through her descending hair.

“Marry me!” She said with utmost sincerity. “Don’t you ever want to get married?”

“Of course I want to get married some day,” I replied.

I didn’t realize what course of action I had just set in motion. I should have been more precise with my wording.

A few weeks later, I had just arrived home from work as my girlfriend pulled up into my driveway in her car. She knocked on the door and I let her in. She was holding two small, black boxes.

“Hey, doll,” I said. “What are you up to?”

“Try this on and let’s see if it fits,” She replied.

She pulled out a ring and put it on one of my fingers. She was just giddy with excitement. At first, I thought it was just a simple gift, but the realization of the situation soon set in. It was a wedding band.

“Look at mine,” She said as she showed me her wedding ring as she placed it on her finger.

Rachel had gone out and bought both rings without me knowing or my approval.

“I love you so much and can’t wait for us to spend the rest of our lives together,” She said.

I was at a loss for words. I stood there dumbfounded.

“Rachel, isn’t this moving too fast?” I asked.

“You said you loved me and wanted to get married, didn’t you?” She stated and asked.

I walked back inside and sat down upon my lounge chair trying to collect my thoughts.

“I arranged the flowers, church, and the pastor,” She said after she walked in after me. “Miranda is going to do the catering and the cakes and I have already paid. I also got my wedding dress and the bride’s maid dresses.”

“How much did you spend?” I asked in shock.

The amount was staggering.

“Dear God,” I thought.

I was trapped and there was no way out. Things were moving far to fast. It was like a snowball rolling down hill and picking up mass and girth.

We did get married a few months later. I can’t say I wasn’t intrigued by this marriage thing; something I had never experienced. I wondered what it would be like living full time with a woman. My father fully endorsed this endeavor. He paid for us to go to Washington D.C. by train for our honeymoon. All our expenses were paid. He said later that he had hoped a woman would tame my unconventional ways. To my credit, the marriage did last two years.