My Mail Order Wife (The Value of a Man Book 1) Read Free Page B

learned early on in his childhood that his father was not a man of many words.  He made statements.  Those statements became laws.  Those laws he strictly enforced. It had never dawned on him to question nor challenge his father’s edicts until that Saturday afternoon when his mother called and insisted he come and join them for lunch. Always a conservative dresser, he put on warm clothing for the cooler upper New York weather and made his way to the family home.  He always found it ironic that the house sat on 40 acres and there was always a mule in the barn.  The land had been in the family for nearly five centuries, and they still had a mule.  His grandfather often joked that the sharecropper idea came from “our ancestors.”
    It wasn’t the past so much that worried Thurston.  As he sat in the formal drawing room watching his mother sip on her tea and his father pretending to be disinterested as his future walked through the front door.  It was a sad moment in his life when he realized that a strange woman with a weird name who did not know him had summed up his life.  Someone hadn’t died yet, and now to become truly relevant, he would have to marry some woman he didn’t know to create a fake family he would probably hardly see in order to run for an office he wasn’t even sure he wanted.
    “Son, the 11 th District is 56% black. In order to win the votes of ‘those’ people, we have to present an image they can relate to… you know, the brother that will speak up for them in Washington,” his father said.
    How, when I can barely speak up for myself ?
    His father, God bless his soul, was a man who believed in choice; therefore he presented his son with several.  Six to be exact, one paraded in right after the other.  Six African American women, all the right height, the ideal size and vetted for his choosing. To ensure all was well, the butler was asked to snap photos of him standing next to the women.
    The first one was a woman with full pouty lips, librarian glasses, a tightly styled conservative hairdo and eyes full of fear. When Thurston rose to shake her hand, she shrank like a child being scolded. She also refused to make eye contact with him.  This one, he didn’t bother to ask her name.
    Lady number two was Marrietta Billings Collinsworth was from an old Virginia political family with strong ties in Washington. She took a seat and began to drill him on his policy stance on women’s rights. “I am a Republican; however, I am diametrically opposed to the party’s stance on women’s reproductive health and choice.  I would like to make sure going forth that you will champion this cause as well.”
    “What?” Thurston asked as his father ushered the woman out of the room.  The third lady was a replica of his mother in personality.  She was also so dark she looked like a negative in a Polaroid.  They did not look good together on camera.  Even the butler, who was always stoic, looked at the photo on the screen, back at the woman, the photo on screen, and then made an unapprovingly, inappropriate face.
    The fourth one was interesting.  A caramel-hued woman who dripped of sex appeal.  When she crossed her legs, his mind went into overdrive. The other parts of him did as well when she stood unbearably close while they took pictures.  He was so distracted by her that he found himself agreeing to whatever she said. Evidently, she too had attended law school and she was negotiating her terms.  Thurston’s eyes were focused on her mouth.  That sexy mouth.  Those beautiful breasts. Until his dad grabbed her by the arm and shepherded her out the door as well.
    “Son, that one is too much woman for you.  She will have you in debt while she is sleeping with half of the Hill,” he said.  And with that, the sexy pouty lips, I could-have-loved-you-so-good woman, was no more.
    He wanted her to come back so he could look at her again. Maybe take a few more pictures with him. His mind kept