My wife, Katherine, and I got engaged young. We were nineteen, with a view to getting married after we finished our university degrees when we would be twenty-one. This was cause for joy among my own friends and family, but consternation for her parents. They were not at all happy. That much was made clear to me, but what I didn't know was that my future mother-in-law, Teresa, was trying to poison her daughter's mind against me.
Teresa was a physically attractive woman, and I had always thought so. While my fiancée was a ballerina, with a slender, elegant body, small breasts, beautiful long legs, a soft pretty face, and a mane of silky dark brown hair, her mother was slightly fuller of figure and perhaps not as nice a face, but kept fit, and both dressed and maintained herself very nicely. As someone who always appreciated a woman's legs, especially in expensive sheer tights, the fact that she often dressed for work in nice skirts and blouses, or wore dresses on nights out, was an additional attraction.
Less attractive was the fact that she could be manipulative. Although she had always been this way, she began directing her manipulation toward Katherine in earnest immediately after we announced our engagement. This was something I only found out after a number of months and a great deal of grief, but it is also something that brought about changes in all of us and our relationships with one another. In light of this, I will begin by recounting what happened before I was any the wiser.
***
Our engagement had taken place on a Friday night, and with me working and Katherine doing ballet training on Saturday, it was Sunday before Teresa first confronted her.
'Katherine, you know your dad and I are not happy about this,' she said to her daughter over coffee in their family kitchen that morning. 'We just don't think you have enough experience. How do you know that you even love Thomas enough to make a marriage? You have only had one boyfriend before, and don't know what's out there.'
Katherine, always slightly naïve as to her parents' intentions, was devastated.
'Mum,' she responded with tears forming in her eyes, 'how can you say that? Tom and I have been going out for three years already, and we just know that we want to get married. You and dad only dated each other before you got married, didn't you?'
'Yes, but that was a different time,' Teresa said, coldly. 'And besides, we have had lots of opportunity to learn about what we like since.'
'What's that supposed to mean?' Katherine said, taken aback.
'Katherine, I'll be blunt. Your dad and I have been with other people since we got married. Ours has never been an open marriage, but we have experimented together, and learnt a lot about what we like. That's one of the reasons we have lasted so long together. He knows what I need, and lets me have it.'
'What? You mean you and dad have slept with other people?'
'Not your dad, Katherine. Me. Surely you realised that at some point? Do you remember when Monica would come over...?'
'You and Monica? Mum! I thought you were just friends,' Katherine cried.
Teresa put her hand on her daughter's. 'Katherine, I can't believe you are just learning this now. I assumed you would have figured it out. But that's why I don't want you marrying Thomas. How do you even know what you like?'
'Mum, I just know,' said Katherine.
'Well I don't think you do, whatever you say. So I want to propose something to you. You want your dad's and my support for your engagement? You can have it. If...'
'If what?'
'If you allow me to set you up on at least four different dates with at least four different people. If you do that, and actually commit to them as if you weren't with Tom, but still want to marry Tom afterward, we will support you.'
''What?!? You want me to cheat on Tom four times? And what if I don't want to?'
'Then your dad and I will make life very difficult for you, Kat. Think about it.'
And with that, my fiancée got up, went to her room, and slammed the door.
***
They sat down together for dinner as a family at seven that evening: Teresa and Katherine's dad Jon, Katherine, and her seventeen year-old brother, Chris. Katherine looked sullen.
'Kat, I understand that you and your mum have had a talk?' Jon said as he poured the wine.
'Yes,' Katherine said, shortly.
'Well, you are obviously not happy about it, but have you given it some thought?' Jon said.
'Yes,' she said.
'Oh!' Jon said, with surprise. 'What's it going to be then?'
'I'll do it. I'm not happy about it, but I don't want to fight with you, so if this is what it takes to earn your support and to prove that I really do want to marry Tom, then I'll do it.'
'Okay. Great. Then these are the rules: 1. You cannot tell Thomas anything about this. No matter what. If you tell him, then the deal's off. 2. You have to go on the arranged dates like you mean it. No faking it, and brushing off the person afterward. You may decide that you don't want to go out with them again, but you have to honestly try to enjoy the time you spend with them. 3. You have to report back to your mum on each date. Do you understand?'
'Of course I understand.'
'Good. Do you agree to the terms?'
'I don't have choice, do I? Yes, I agree to the terms,' Katherine concluded unhappily.
Teresa added sharply, 'And while this is going on, I absolutely forbid you from having sex with Thomas. Is that clear?'
Even Jon expressed surprise at his wife's closing remark. 'Teresa, hun, we didn't talk about that as a condition,' he said.
'Well it's a condition now,' Teresa responded. 'And that's that.'
My fiancée left the room, crying.
***
Katherine and I spent quite a bit of time together at university over the next week, and I surprised her on Thursday with tickets to the ballet for Saturday night. I always looked forward to our dates like this, because as a romantic, I loved seeing her all dressed up, taking her to dinner, noticing all the men looking at her in the foyer of the theatre, and knowing that I would be the only one to touch her later. Indeed, whenever I planned a date like this one, I would dream for days ahead of time about what she might wear, how elegant and gorgeous she would look, and what we might do together afterward.
When Saturday arrived, then, I went to my regular weekend job in a huge warehouse, and thought about her at ballet, daydreaming all the while about her in her light pink or white leotard and white tights, in the studio with all the other beautiful young women stretching and moving swan-like around the floor. And I thought, too, about the fact that I knew her mum was taking her out shopping for some new dresses, and wondered what sorts of things she would pick. My head was so in the clouds that it was difficult to concentrate on my work, and my colleagues harassed me about it. 'Hey Tom,' they said. 'You planning on getting some action tonight with that hot fiancée of yours? You've been out of it all day!' I smiled to myself, knowing that the boys at work knew exactly what was up.
After ballet, meanwhile, Katherine took her customary shower, put on her clothes and make up, pulled her hair back into a ponytail, and left the studio to meet up with her mum.
As was customary when she was going out, Teresa was dressed in a nicely-cut black skirt that hung to just above her knees, expensive, nude-coloured, sheer tights, black medium-heeled shoes, a light blue silk blouse, and a tailored jacket over top. Her naturally dark hair was cut to medium-length, and her gold necklace, watch, and rings sparkled. Katherine was dressed more like the older teenager she was, in a short denim skirt, black semi-opaque tights (still of the best quality, as her parents would never purchase anything that wasn't from the top of the range), Doc Marten boots, and a hoodie. Even like that, she would catch the attention of men, as the slightly punky style could not conceal the fact that all her clothes were expensive, while her pretty, feminine looks and the elegant way in which she moved attested to the cultivation under which she had grown up.
Together, they headed to a number of shops, where Teresa was more hands-on than usual in helping Katherine pick out and try on various dresses and other clothing. Then she did something that surprised her daughter. She took her by the hand and led her to a very exclusive, independent women's shop a couple of streets away from the mall in which they had already spent a couple of hours. It was obviously a place in which she spent a great deal of time, for as soon as they walked through the door, a woman--whom Katherine guessed to be the owner--greeted Teresa with enthusiasm.
'Teresa, good to see you. Did you like the things you got last week?' she said.
'I certainly did, Charlotte,' Katherine's mum replied. 'In fact, I'm wearing some of it now.'
