Husband Material

A Wedding Gift

 I was sitting at our kitchen table, drumming my pen on the edge of my laptop. I had been staring at the blinking line on my blank screen for an hour now. I leaned on the chair, balancing on the two back legs and throwing my head back to stare at the ceiling. I was still struggling to get the flow going to write my psychology term paper. I didn't even have a thesis yet. I dropped back onto all-fours reflexively when I heard a loud bang behind me, and then a string of curse words. My roommate, Vanessa, had tripped on her stilettos and run into the corner of the kitchen counter. She was wearing a strapless black body con dress and her red hair had been effortlessly swept back from her face which was heavily made up. She cursed again as she struggled to jam her foot back into the 6 inch heels.

"Wow," I drawled, raising my eyebrows, "if you're already unsteady at this hour, imagine

what you're going to be like by the end of a night of drinking."

"Yeah, my friend gave these babies to me," she recounted, flipping out her heel to show off the glossy black shoes. "I have no idea how she manages. After about 2 drinks I can hardly stand up on flat feet, let alone heels."

She grabbed her silver clutch from the countertop, and began making her way to the door. Just as she was about to leave, she hesitated. She spun around, almost toppling over again. "You should come out tonight, keep me responsible." she suggested, once she was steady again.

I shook my head, "You know the drinking scene isn't my scene."

"Only because you've never drunk a drop. If you weren't an alcoholic virgin, you'd be coming with me in a heartbeat," she insisted.

I shrugged my shoulders, "Does the wine of communion count?"

She rolled her eyes. Vanessa and I had met in First Year psychology class. We had actually become friends after we had faced each other in a class debate on whether or theistic faith is a naturally rooted need in human beings. We appreciated each other's determination to prove the other wrong so much so that we decided to lease an apartment together in second year. Somehow we made it work, and our friendship didn't even seem to suffer, despite the fact that we had the exact same conversation every weekend. She tried to make me into a party girl, and I tried to convert her to theistic views. It sometimes got exhausting, but we were both determined to get our way. I hoped that my superior stubbornness would eventually wear her down.

"Here," I offered, "if you come to church with me, I'll go out with you on a friday night."

She huffed, "and you know that's not my scene."

"It could be, if you wanted."

She considered my words for a moment before shaking her head, "We've been living together for nearly three years, Jo. You should know by now that I just don't believe in all that stuff. Stop asking. The answer is always the same: I'm not interested."

"And I'm not interested in going to a pub, Ness. And yet, you keep asking."

We were silent for a few minutes, and I suddenly became very afraid that things would become awkward. But then, Vanessa smirked mischievously. "There will be a ton of hot guys there," she taunted.

I chuckled, "I think I'll pass on the swarm of drunk frat boys tonight, thanks."

"Your loss." she stated, reaching for the door handle again. She then hesitated one last time. "Hey, do you just want to go out? I mean, I can cancel. We could go out and do something. No alcohol involved, of course."

"Thanks, but I'm fine, Ness." I assured her.

"But I feel bad that you're stuck cooped up here on a friday evening."

"Once again, thanks for offering," I replied, "but I seriously have a ton of stuff to get done. This paper is due on Monday. Also, my friend Mia- you know, the one who's getting married- well, I'm helping to organize her wedding shower with her control freak of a grandmother-in-law to be. And, I still have to browse for wedding gifts online."

"Well then, I don't envy you," declared Vanessa. "Good luck with all that."

She finally opened the door and left. I turned back to my laptop, but then urgently stood up to chase Vanessa down. When I caught up to her she was waiting for our building's decrepit elevator to creep up to our floor.

"Hey," I caught her attention. She turned surprised. I caught my breath, "Don't forget to call me when your taxi arrives. And don't hesitate to call for a DD if you don't end up finding a ride."

"I won't forget, because you remind me every time," she scoffed.

"I know," I replied, "I just want to make sure you get home safe. Have fun!"

The elevator doors slowly slid open with a ding. She stepped on to the platform and waved goodbye. As I made my way back to our room, I prayed that she would be safe tonight. I collapsed in front of my laptop again. I still had writer's block, or at least thinking block. I clicked on my other open tab to try browsing through online stores again for wedding gifts. The trick was to find something practical, something they wouldn't receive 15 of, and something that would last throughout their entire marriage. An hour later, I slumped into my bedroom and fell into my bed, exhausted and defeated. I still didn't have a thesis or a wedding gift. Also, I had five unopened voicemails from Nick's grandmother about Shower plans waiting on my phone.

Above that, I was worrying about Ness. I really wish she would give her current lifestyle up. I had already been to the hospital twice as her emergency contact so that she could get her stomach pumped. My nagging her barely had anything to do with actually getting her to come to church, but had more to do with hoping she might feel a compulsion to turn from the partying. It had much more to do with protecting someone I love from getting hurt, and then as an extension, me myself.