Gilbert Morris - Heaven Sent Husband

She examined the dress critically, for she had bought it especially for her date with Charlie Petrie. Petrie was not handsome, but he was six feet three inches tall. True enough, he was thin, almost to the point of disappearing if he stood sideways. His colleagues at the accounting firm where he worked called him Ichabod behind his back, for his stooped, thin frame reminded one of the character in the classic by Washington Irving.

“This stupid dress makes me look awful!” Staring at herself, Ketura turned around and studied it. She had paid more for it than she had ever thought she would spend for a dress. Indeed, her trip to Neiman Marcus in Dallas had been her first. She had felt like a poor relation and was certain she had seen disdain in the eyes of the cool-voiced saleswoman who had waited on her.

As she recalled how embarrassing the trip to Neiman Marcus had been, Ketura flushed. She did have one outstanding trait, and that was her beautiful complexion. It was as smooth and clear as a woman’s skin could be, but she never saw that quality and remained distracted by the few faint freckles across the bridge of her nose that she considered unsightly. Now she looked again at the dress and tried to find something good about it. She had not liked it much at the store, but the saleswoman had talked her into buying it. “With your height, you have to wear a style like this, dear,” the woman had said.

“Like what?” Ketura wondered aloud now. “Like somebody’s spinster aunt?”

That’s who the dress seemed suited for, she thought, despairing as she studied her reflection. The short-sleeved button-front chemise, made from a smooth, pale yellow fabric, fell just below her knees. The demure oval neckline was outlined with satin appliqué, and the tiny buttons covered in satin, as well.

Maybe it wasn’t that bad, she decided, but so out of sync with her usual, sporty style that she felt as though she were dressed in a costume.

Ketura finally turned and sat down at the edge of her bed to put on her shoes. The shoes were also new and rather attractive, and Ketura had surprisingly small feet for her height. The shoes were overpriced though, and now she wished she’d put her hard-earned money toward something more practical, like a good pair of jogging shoes. Or better yet, used the money for a donation to people who had no shoes at all.

While slipping them on, she glanced at the clock on her bedside table. “Time for Cinderella to go to the ball,” she muttered darkly.

She went downstairs and found her parents in the family room. Her father greeted her with a smile. “Well, now,” he said with appreciation, “don’t you look nice, Ket.”

He came over to stand beside her, and no one seeing them together could mistake their relationship. Roger Lindsey was six foot three with blue eyes and blond hair that had gone mostly gray. For a man of fifty, few lines marked his face or marred his strong features. Ketura always felt she was looking at a masculine version of herself when she looked into her father’s face.

“I hate this dress,” she murmured between clenched teeth.

“Hate it? Why, how can you say that?” Her mother looked genuinely surprised. “You look lovely. I’m sure Charlie will think so, too.”

“I paid too much for the dress and the shoes. Just think what the mission in Bombay could have done with that money.”

“Well, that’s very true,” her mother replied placidly. “But young women need new clothes once in a while, too, and you told me yourself that you didn’t have anything to wear for tonight.”

Roger looked at his wife and shook his head. “I have to agree with Ketura. I remember it was Thoreau who said, ‘Beware of all enterprises that require new clothes.’” He smiled and his eyes crinkled up at the corners. “Besides, Charlie probably won’t know the difference. I don’t think he appreciates anything but numbers.”

The skinny, dull accountant wasn’t the man for his Ket, Roger thought. Still, it was good to see her going out tonight and having some fun. He studied his daughter, who now sat on the couch next to his wife, and couldn’t help but wonder why she had not been as popular and sought-after as her older sisters. They had gone through dozens of boyfriends during high school and college, and Roger remembered finding the house crowded with them—gawky young men—everywhere you turned. This had not been the case with Ket, and it hurt him somehow, for he knew that this younger daughter of his who looked so much like him felt insecure. He had wanted to say, Don’t compare yourself to your sisters, Ket. They are who they are and you’re what God made you. A tall, strong, beautiful woman in your own right.

However, he had never been able to find an opportunity to say this. So now he said, “I think you look beautiful, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, Daddy.” Ketura smiled, despite herself. It was just her dad and she knew he felt obliged to say such things, but the compliment made her feel good nonetheless.

“It’s about time for Charlie to get here, isn’t it? Where are you going?” he asked.

“We’re going to the movies. Some film about space travel. Scientists are stranded on another planet. Or maybe they get stranded on the way to another planet…. I’m not quite sure.”

Her mother glanced at her with a puzzled expression. “I thought you hated movies like that.”

“Well…it wasn’t my first choice. But Charlie thought it would be fun.”

Ketura shrugged and forced a smile. She actually dreaded a two-hour simulated ride through outer space, which would either put her to sleep, or give her a whopper of a headache with the earsplitting special effects. But, while pretending to give her some say in the matter, Charlie had pushed his preference. She’d sensed that if she didn’t give in and agree, he’d most likely sit pouting through any film that was her choice.

Her father returned to the book he’d been reading and Ket watched a news show with her mother. Seven-thirty came and still no Charlie Petrie. Ket felt partly relieved, partly annoyed and partly anxious, anticipating she might be stood up. Finally, at seven-forty-five the phone rang.

“I’ll get it,” Lucille said. She went over, picked up the phone and said, “Hello? Oh, yes, she’s right here. Tell her what?” She hung up the phone and turned slowly to face Ket, a worried frown on her face.

Suddenly Ket knew what had brought the frown to her mother’s face. She stood and said quietly, “He’s not coming, is he?”

Lucille Lindsey shot an agonized glance at her husband and then turned back to face Ket. “No, he said something had come up—an emergency of some kind.”

Ket met her mother’s sympathetic gaze for a moment and felt her eyes fill with tears. She took a deep breath and willed herself not to cry.

“Right. An accounting emergency. Someone forgot to file their taxes. They just realized it,” she joked. Her parents both smiled but neither laughed, she noticed.

Ket avoided looking at them. She sat very still and stared straight ahead. She felt something happening deep within, in some silent, invincible place.

She suddenly became aware that a resolution was forming inside, while not in words, in some way she was saying, I won’t be put through this kind of humiliation again! With an effort she kept her face straight and shrugged. “Well, all dressed up and no place to go.”

“Let the three of us go see a movie. I wouldn’t mind getting out tonight,” Roger said quickly. He saw the pain that had flickered across his daughter’s face and wanted to do something to take it away. He knew that her pride had been hurt badly, and anger washed through him. I’d like to tell that Charlie Petrie what I think of him! To treat a young woman like this…! However, he could say none of this, for a look from his wife, who knew him very well, stilled him on that subject.