Shootgun wedding

Our parents took it about as well as we expected. Dad was furious, and mom cried. Once dad had calmed down a little he expectedly said "That boy is gonna do right by you and get married even if I have to get my shotgun and make him." "The shotgun won't be necessary dad, he already proposed," I said. "I don't see no ring!?", he shot back. "Well, he had known for about a minute when he did it so that didn't leave him a lot of time to go shopping now, did it!" I was screaming at him. I never heard Trixy scream at dad before, that was more my thing. But now that we had traded places I guess it was Trixy's thing. It caught him a little of guard. "Well, I... I Guess Well, at least he got something right then..."

Jackson's parents were about equally understanding. He wanted to tell them alone first. Once the worst of it had died down he texted me to come over. His mother greeted me at the door. "Trixy!" She was crying. "I'm so sorry for what my boy has done to you." It felt like a weird thing to say, but I guess she blamed Jackson more than me. "Don't be sorry missed Jones. It's not Jackson's fault. I'm just as much to blame." Jackson was in the living room with his dad. I saw his younger brother and sister peeking at me from upstairs as I passed through the hall.

"Hello, Trixy. Jackson here tells me he has put you in a bad way." Yeah... they said that. If someone ever thought my parents were old-fashioned and conservative, they hadn't met Mister and Misses Jones. I didn't know what to say, so I just nodded. "And he also says he intends to do right by you and make you his wife." I swallowed and said "Yes sir. He already asked me and I said yes." Mister Jones nodded approvingly, then turned to Jackson. "You will have to go ask her father too," he told him. "I... I don't think that will be necessary Mister Jones." I said. "He already stated quite clearly that no other option was acceptable." Mister Jones looked at us thoughtfully, for a while. "Well, I have to say I agree", he said. "Margaret!" he called out for his wife, who had been listening in the hallway. "Yes dear," she answered as she came in. "We will head over to the Singers. These two lovebirds will be married within the month. We should discuss it with them. You to can stay here and watch the children while we are gone." Mister Jones was used to getting his way. I didn't ask, he told. "Are you sure we should leave them here alone?", asked misses Jones, casting a worried look at me and Jackson. Mister Jones was already getting his jacket and car keys. "They'll be fine!" he called to her. "Besides it's not like he can make her more pregnant!" And with that, they were gone.

It happened just as they said. Within the month I was walking up the aisle and the local church and became Misses Trixy Jones. And thankfully no shotguns were present at the ceremony. We gathered at Jackson's parents afterward. There was dinner and cake, and speeches, and all the other things you'd expect from a wedding. In the interim, both me, Tyler and Jackson had started college. Jackson was lucky enough to get a football scholarship. It was the only way he could go since his family had paid for most of the wedding.

My parent's wedding gift was a set of keys. We lived on a farm, and about 200 yards from our house there was an old outbuilding. Dad, with Tyler and some help from his buddies, had made one of the rooms into a living space. It wasn't much more than a 300 square feet of room that had a basic sink, a couch, and a bed tucked into a corner. "It's not much yet, but by the time baby comes I reckon we will have had time to add in the basic amenities. But it's yours for now." I was so happy. Jackson carried me across that doorstep of what was essentially our first apartment.