Fatal Flaws

by Clyde Lawrence

  As he approached, we all stood and shook hands. I was the last, and as I gripped his hand and introduced myself, I gazed directly into his dark brown eyes. He looked back with a cocky glare and I knew right then that this asshole thought he was better than everyone in the room and that he’d never respect me. I was, however, more concerned with his attitude toward Ryan and whether or not he gave her the appropriate respect.

  “Sounds like there was some confusion about when we should have expected you,” I challenged. “Did you have trouble finding us?”

  “No trouble finding you and not really any confusion about arrival time. I had to stay a little longer at church. They are considering me for a deacon position, so I had to interview with our minister and several members of church leadership. Ryan knew I might be running a bit late, so I didn’t feel like I needed to call and remind her. I hope that she didn’t fail to pass that on. I do like to create a good first impression.”

  “Well, since you’ve been so humble about it, I guess we’ll accept your apology for being late. Oh wait, were you offering one?”

  “Oh, yeah right. Uh, please accept my apology. You too, Mrs. Bishop. By the way, it smells wonderful in here. Ryan told me that you were going to cook enchiladas for dinner. If that’s what I’m smelling, I’m sure they are going to be delicious!” As he said this, he had approached Mandy and poured on as much charm as he could muster. “I was hoping to be able to change out of my church clothes before we eat. Do you mind if Ryan shows me where I can change and get cleaned up?”

  Mandy replied that she was glad he could make it, but that everything was ready to take out of the oven. She encouraged Ryan to show him to the guest suite upstairs and quickly explained that everything should be ready to serve when they returned, so they needed to please hurry in order to keep things from getting cold.

  “Come on, sweetie. Let’s hurry and get you changed,” Ryan said, as she led him to the staircase. “We’ll just be a minute, Mommy.”

  As he followed her up the stairs, I heard him ask, “Do you always call your mother Mommy? Don’t you think you should have outgrown that by now?”

  Once again, Ryan did the opposite of what I would have expected her to do. If her maturity had been challenged by one of her siblings, or even one of the previous dickhead boyfriends that she had dated, she would have told them to mind their own fucking business and she’d call her mother whatever she wanted. Today, however, she chose not to shut this asshole down with a verbal counterattack. She simply replied, “Not always. Sometimes I call her ‘Momma’ or ‘Mother,’ but today she is feeding me and my new boyfriend one of her best dishes, so I thought I’d go for extra sweet. I’ll try to use big girl words for you the rest of the day.”

  As we heard the door at the top of the stairs close, I looked at Mandy and said, “Okay then, he seems like a total douchebag. Let’s get this dinner done quickly and get him out of this house before I have to brain him with that casserole dish.”

  “Mark, just give him a chance. I agree that he hasn’t gotten off to a good start, but let’s not rush to judgement on him. I’m not crazy about the fact that he seems to be a holy roller, and I don’t like that he seems like he thinks he is superior to Ryan, but she has told me that he treats her really well and that they have had a lot of fun together. Maybe he’s just a bit nervous to meet us and has just started off on the wrong foot.” This was also strange. Mandy could typically be accurately compared to a lioness or mother bear, who would gladly disembowel and rip the head off of any animal or person presented a potential threat to any of her ‘cubs.’ She was typically the one who rushed to judgment on any suitor who failed to treat one of her daughters with the utmost respect and deference. Was she responding to Brandon’s strong masculine vibe and his exceptional good looks as a woman instead of forming an impression based solely on his initially observed behavior and attitude toward her oldest daughter? Her final statement on the matter was, “You don’t have to lock horns with him or start flexing your muscles just yet. You’ll have plenty of time to assert your dominance, Doctor Bishop.” This last statement was obviously meant to indicate that she thought I was the one with the overdeveloped ego, and that I was acting like an asshole.

  “Well, at least someone here knows how to properly address me, but if you think that this kid is going to grow on me, you’ve got another think coming. Just because I don’t like the idea of some dipshit disrespecting my little girl doesn’t mean I’m too jacked up on testosterone to see his good side. My biggest concern is that, so far, Ryan seems like she is lacking in self-confidence around him and is allowing him to dominate the relationship. You know that I’m good at sizing guys up and noticing whether or not they are going to be compatible with our girls.” Prior to this, I had a perfect record of predicting how long Ryan and Lizzie, who had also brought several boys around to meet the family, were going to put up with their previous boyfriend. Emma, who was only eleven at this point, had not started dating yet, of course. She was, however, starting to notice and talk about members of the opposite gender and I was pretty sure she was shaping up as a real man eater as well. I had a good understanding of my daughters’ personalities and I could readily assess their compatibility with their male counterparts.

  “I know,” Mandy said. “No mere mortal man will ever be good enough to be with one of your daughters. Let’s just take a chill pill, though, and see how Brandon does at the dinner table. There is no hurry to judge him and it’s not like we’re going to tell him that he has already failed the interview and that there is no reason to stick around for dinner. Speaking of chilling out, do you want this Captain and Diet Coke that I made you?”

  Now we were talking. I could definitely use a drink. Maybe I was overreacting to Brandon’s self-confidence and his obvious masculinity. I’m not sure how I developed this trait, because I’ve never been a brawler, but I tended to be a little aggressive with guys who didn’t immediately defer to my own masculinity. I’m pretty sure that if I were ever sent to prison, I would have trouble surviving the first day as I would not be able to lower my eyes and show the proper ‘respect’ to my fellow inmates. I think that I’d probably put an instant target on my back as I asked the first gangsta’ I walked past something akin to ‘what the fuck and you lookin’ at, bitch?’ Oh well, I would have plenty of opportunity over dinner to form my lasting opinion of Brandon and come up with my prediction of just how long he would last as a contestant on the ‘Who Wants to Marry Ryan?’ game show.

  *****

  After Ryan had shown Brandon to the guest room upstairs and got him situated, she came back downstairs to help get dinner on the table. Mandy and I held our tongues and pretended that we had not already formed an unfavorable opinion of him. We all took our seats around the table and prepared for the inquisition—I mean, meal. Good old Captain Morgan had, once again, chilled me out with his deliciously potent alcoholic nectar and I was feeling like all was good with the world, even if I was having to share my dinner table with a total tool who was looking to score with my little girl. Our 9-year-old son Corey was trying to engage the girls in their typical banter, but it was clear that Lizzie and Emma were trying to put on their best airs in order to impress this good-looking wolf in sheep’s clothing who was seated next to Ryan. Mandy had reigned Corey in by telling him he was looking at two days without his Xbox if he kept messing with his sisters.

  “So, Brandon,” I began, “tell us a little about yourself,” I said, as I started to dish up the enchiladas.

  “Well, I know that Ryan has told you that I go to UNT. I’m finishing up my Masters’ Degree in Business with an emphasis on computer security. I’d like to work for one of the large techno security firms in Dallas when I finish up. Actually, I’ve already interviewed with several of them and I’ve received some encouraging feedback from two or three of them, so I’m feeling pretty good about my employment prospects at this point.”

  “Your family is from Canton, right?” I probed, although
I already knew the answer to most of the questions I typically ask during my initial interrogation—I mean, conversation with a potential suitor for one of my girls. “Do you make it back home much?”

  “Yeah, I grew up in Canton. My dad owns a commercial glass company.”

  By this point I was already noticing his distinct failure to use the term ‘sir’ when speaking to me, as is typical of a well-mannered youth in our part of the country. Being originally from the Pacific Northwest, where virtually no one used terms of respect like ‘sir’ and ‘ma’am,’ I’m not super uptight about this issue. However, based on the fact that this guy grew up in a region where one was expected to address one’s elders using this verbiage, the fact that he had not shown us this respect indicated that he probably had a bit of a superiority complex and didn’t mind letting people know that he wasn’t going to acknowledge any traditional social hierarchical conventions.

  “Do your parents work there together?”

  “No. My mom is pretty much a lady of leisure. She spends a lot of time getting her hair and nails done. My dad makes the money and she spends it.”

  Now, I have always believed that you can tell a lot about a person by listening to how they describe their parents. Brandon clearly did not have a lot of respect for his mother. I wondered at that moment if that was an indication of how he felt about women in general. Did he basically feel like women were intended to be non-productive individuals who ‘lived off’ the labor of their husband? If so, this was another indicator that Ryan was wasting her time with him.

  We all ate our dinner. Each of us took turns showing interest in Brandon by asking about him, his family, and his pursuits. Rarely did he show any interest in anything that one of us said and he certainly didn’t demonstrate the politeness of inquiring about our family. Ryan has always been a talker, so she kept up the conversation during its lulls. Overall, it was a relatively painful meal to endure and, in my opinion, a waste of the three enchiladas that he was served. On the other hand, it’s really not a waste of time or resources to gain insight into the boy or man that is working on gaining access to your daughter’s bedroom, which is the eventual goal of all of these little fuckers that come knocking at the door.

  When dinner was finished, I said something fairly obvious to Brandon like, “Well, I guess you’d better be getting on the road.” I hoped like hell that my lack of enthusiasm at the prospect of spending more time with him was totally obvious. He and Ryan hung around for another few minutes, then she showed him to the door. Mandy and I were in the kitchen cleaning up the dishes. Due to the aforementioned layout of the entryway of our house, their voices carried down the hallway to where we were working. I could hear Ryan fawning over Brandon and telling him what a good impression he had made, as well as how happy he had made her by coming over for dinner. I was very touched when he replied to her that he has definitely had worse meals and said that ‘at least your family is better than my last girlfriend’s family—they were total dorks.” How proud I was to know that he had formed such a high opinion of me and my family. I do have to say I was disappointed that, rather than taking him on and letting him know that she was offended by the way he was describing his dinner experience with our family, she was keeping her comments to a minimum, presumably to avoid offending him or risking an argument.

  “Hey Ryan,” I yelled down the hallway toward the foyer. “Why don’t you two step outside onto the patio to say goodbye? We can hear everything you’re saying and my opinion of your taste in guys is getting lower every second.”

  “Daddy!” She called back.

  “Yes?” I replied.

  “Never mind,” she said. “Brandon, let’s just go outside.”

  I heard the door opening and then not quite slamming shut, but being closed emphatically behind them.

  “Jesus!” I exclaimed to Mandy, who was standing next to the sink with dish detergent bubbles all over her hands and forearms. “I just couldn’t take another minute of that dickhead being in my house.”

  “I was ready for him to leave as well,” she replied, “but you are going to have an unhappy daughter on your hands in a minute. You didn’t have to embarrass her like that, you know.”

  “I know, but I thought they should both know what kind of impression he was continuing to make with every word that came out of his mouth,” I said. “She’ll get over it, and it’s not like that jackass is going to be in her life very long anyway, so I’m not really worried about offending him.”

  Just then, we heard Ryan come back inside, and this time she did slam the door. I subsequently heard her feet stomping down the hallway toward us.

  “Daddy, that was so rude!” she yelled at me as she came into sight. “Why do you have to be such a jerk?”

  “First off, young lady,” I said, “you’d better watch your mouth! You are in my house and I am not going to let anyone else talk to me offensively tonight after what we just had to endure.”

  “What do you mean endure? “Brandon was a perfect gentleman the entire time he was here. I don’t know what more you could expect from a boy I’m dating.”

  “Well, first off, he could show up on time. If he was running late, he could have checked in with you. He could have apologized about his lack of consideration. He could have lost the condescending attitude, which he kept up through the entire visit. He could have chosen to talk sweetly to my daughter when she showed concern for him instead of suggesting that you were trying to mother him. He could have described his own mother as if he had any amount of respect for her. He could have inquired about anyone in our family or shown the slightest bit of interest in finding out more about us. He could have thanked your mother for a wonderful dinner and described it as something more than ‘not the worst meal he has ever had.’ He could have said something to you that indicated he enjoyed his time getting to know us rather than barely mustering up a comment about how we weren’t as dorky as his last girlfriend’s family. How am I doing? That’s the short list. I’m sure I could come up with more if I applied myself.”

  “I’m sorry he’s not perfect,” she replied, with an uppity look on her face, “but neither are any of us. I really like him, and I plan on seeing a lot more of him, so you’d better get used to him.”

  “I certainly hope that is not the case, Ryan,” I said. “You can do a lot better than him. I think you are infatuated with his good looks and you’re not seeing him for who he really is.”

  “I agree, honey,” Mandy said. “He is definitely a very handsome guy, but he does not seem like someone who is going to make you happy in the long run.”

  “Well, I am happy when I’m around him. If the family doesn’t like him, then maybe the family just won’t see as much of me, because I have no intention of letting him go.”

  She turned and marched across the living room and then ran up the stairs to her room on the second floor.

  “You see now?” I asked Mandy, who was still busy rinsing off the dishes she’d washed. “That didn’t go so bad. She’ll get over it, and like I said, there is no way that that dickwad is going to be in her life for long. It’s only a matter of time before she figures out what lies under his attractive exterior.”

  Now, I’ve certainly made some bad calls in my day, but I’d never gotten a prediction as wrong as I did that one.

  Section Six:

  Brandon, the Asshole

  Chapter 17

  “Okay, girls,” Mandy said. “This is when we wrap this up and really show these boys that the chicks rule this pool.” It was game point, 14-12, and Mandy, Ryan, Lizzie, and Emma were threatening to bring home the pool volleyball championship victory against me, Brandon, Lizzie’s boyfriend Jonathan, and Corey, who was eleven at the time. We were in the middle of a brief time out. Ryan’s bladder had been about to explode, so she had run inside the house to use the bathroom.

  “Just keep focusing on talking trash, Old Girl, and we’ll stay focused on our rally,” I shot back. We had closed the gap to with
in two points on our last turn serving. Along with my sexist teammates who couldn’t imagine losing to a bunch of girls, I had started out the game way too cocky. It was the classic mistake of underestimating our opponents. It wasn’t just pride on the line, either. I had opened my big mouth and suggested that the losers should have to serve dessert and clean up from dinner. Mandy had grilled ribs and burgers, so there were messy plates, trays, and other assorted dishes piled up next to the kitchen sink. Smears of barbecue sauce seemed to cover the table and the serving bar. It was a total mess and it was looking like the boys and I might just have to do the dirty work. We were having a great time, though, except for Brandon, who seemed to be really getting upset when a volley didn’t go our way. He was starting to seem like a prototypical poor sport. He and Ryan had been a couple for about four months at this point, and I had yet to find that Brandon had any positive character attributes, so it was not surprising to me that he was a killjoy during competitive group activities.

  “I can’t believe you guys are letting the girls beat us,” he said. “Oh, and by the way, thanks a lot for volunteering me to clean up if we lose, Mark. What an embarrassment.”

  “Listen, Brandon, we’re just here to have a good time. You need to chill. I don’t think Sports Illustrated is covering this match, so you don’t have to worry about word getting out that you lost to your girlfriend’s team in backyard pool volleyball. I didn’t realize you had such a reputation to uphold, anyway. Wait, are you an Olympic hopeful or something? Is a loss today going to affect your rating and cause the scouts to lose interest in you or something?”