Chapter 1

I was more than a little irritated when the TV show that I wanted to watch turned up with parental controls blocking it. What the fuck was going on, right? Sure, there was violence and nudity on the series in question, but that was part of the fun! I was a fully grown man, trying to watch a TV series intended for grown men, and I wasn’t about to have my choices censored. I didn’t know how it got blocked, so I did what was the next logical step. I called the cable company and waited the mandatory call time, thankful that it was a Saturday morning and I had time for the call queue until I got an actual, human voice on the other end.

“Hello, Time Warp Cable, this is Pippa. How may I be of service?” a very British, though more working-class rather than posh, voice answered on the other end.

“Yes, I seem to have trouble watching a certain series. There seem to be parental controls in place and I know that I did not order them. How do I ... get them removed?” I inquired, not being an expert on these matters.

“You are Armin Stern, yes?” Pippa asked me.

“Certainly,” I answered.

“Please give me your social security number, mother’s maiden name, and the password for the cable parental controls,” Pippa inquired.

I gave her all three, at which point she told me, “The last one appears to be incorrect. Maybe it was changed. Do you remember the answer to the security question, regarding your high school sweetheart?”

I told her that, and she sounded much more relaxed, telling me, “That is correct, at least. Very well, then. I will remove the controls just now. Tell me, sir, are you married or do you have a girlfriend?”

Shit, I thought. That was it. Felicia must have changed the TV cable service to put in some controls. To think that I was just on the verge of letting her move in with me. Well, there will be hell to pay for this, I told myself. She won’t get away with it. I was very displeased with her. She had done a few things here or there that seemed odd or maybe a bit aggressive, such as the hints about marriage and things like that, but this was way over the line! She didn’t have the authority to decide my TV watching habits and the fact that she had probably pretended to be my wife or live-in girlfriend to change the parental controls was a red flag for sure. She didn’t even have a child to justify it for that reason! This was clearly either a prank or an attempt to exert some kind of power over me.

“Well, I had a girlfriend, but after this incident, I suspect that this status won’t last for long,” I grimaced.

“Very well, sir. The controls have been removed. May I be of any assistance regarding anything else, sir?” Pippa responded to my statement, but with a somewhat lighter, more playful tone of voice now, less professional, even a little breathless for a second.

“Let’s change the password for access to the account now,” I reminded her, making her giggle just a bit.

“Sorry, of course, love ... I mean, sir! Sorry for that, sir! That was a bit inappropriate here in the States, wasn’t it? I forget sometimes on the job that you Yanks don’t use that word so freely. So, what password for access?” Pippa probed.

“I’m going with ‘byefelicia2017.’ How does that grab you?” I chuckled.

“I’m afraid I don’t get the reference,” Pippa was curious, definitely crossing a line, but I didn’t mind ... in fact, I WANTED her to cross it with me.

“My girlfriend’s name is Felicia, or at least it is for now. I don’t make any promises for our future. In fact, it’s looking very bleak, hence the ‘bye’ part. Also, ‘Bye, Felicia’ is a very dismissive kind of farewell. Also, please put in a note for your colleagues that, in the event that someone calls claiming to be my girlfriend, fiancee, or wife, she is not to be given any access or information whatsoever, and her requests are to be denied,” I explained to her.

“Oh, I see. Well, this is done. You are completely free of any access by your girlfriend to your cable account. That’s just as well. She isn’t paying for your cable, so it’s none of her business what you watch on it. So, anything else that you need, good sir?” Pippa reacted to the news with poorly concealed interest.

“Well, if you weren’t on the job, I’d ask for your phone number, just to ask you out, and I don’t generally do dates anymore, so that should tell you something,” I intimated to Pippa, who made an audible, popping sound, and whispered at me.

“658-4579. Same area code. Don’t worry, I shan’t be disciplined for something that simple. It’s probably best that you call me, since I’m not supposed to use customer information for personal purposes, and this definitely qualifies as that. Anyway, it has certainly been a pleasure, sir,” Pippa put a heavy emphasis on the “sir” part for some unexplained reason.

“Oh, no, Pippa. The pleasure was all mine, I assure you,” I told her, hearing a very real sigh and gasp, as if she took me at my most lascivious meaning.

Hanging up on Pippa, I proceeded to test the access, and sure enough, I was able to watch my show unimpeded. I paused it long enough to grab some grub from the kitchen for breakfast, which turned out to be leftover pizza, complete with pineapples, black olives, and Canadian bacon. I made some coffee, black just as I prefer it, and settled in to watch my series of choice. I was in a much better, more relaxed mood, especially as I had lined up a prospect for a date, and this from a guy completely jaded about dating. Something about Pippa actually made me want to take her out, wine and dine, spoil her, etc. Maybe I still had a slight romantic streak buried somewhere beneath the outer cynic that the Felicias of the world brought out in me.

I still didn’t like Felicia’s push to be exclusive or get married, but so far, I had been able to evade those issues and keep the relationship open by default as I saw it. Now, however, my mood was one that basically said, “fuck it.” If she wanted to force the issue, I would stand my ground and absolutely refuse to commit to a monogamous arrangement or anything else that required me to deny my nature. I was done with half-measures, postponed conflicts, and any attempt at soften the blow with Felicia. She was a big girl. She was going to have to wear her big girl panties and suck it up or else move on to a softer target, a more uxorious sort of man. At this point, I wasn’t sure that I wanted to date her at all, to be honest, not after this latest stunt.

I was about mid-day through the second episode that I intended to watch that morning, when I got a phone call on my cell, and it was Mom, of all people. I wasn’t sure what that was about, other than her pushing me to “settle down” again and give her grandkids. It was likely to be the usual spiel about how I was thirty now and needed to find a “nice girl” to marry and father children. Bear in mind that I was hardly hurting for money, and in fact, my home was all paid off. It was in my name and everything.

That, in Mom’s view, removed one of my “excuses,” as she put it. She wanted me to do something with that money, namely use it to get married and start a family. Well, that was all well and good, as long as it didn’t involve monogamy, but that’s hardly something that Mom would understand. I wasn’t sure quite how she would take that information, but she’d have some kind of answer, even for that. Given that she cheated on Dad so much that he started a revenge affair and did sundry other things that none dared to discuss before finally taking her back, I wasn’t even sure what she could say about that whole issue.

Well, there was nothing to do but face the monster that found it necessary to intrude upon my life yet again. I picked up the phone on nearly the last ring, when it was close to going to voicemail, and cleared my throat before answering it. I wanted Mom to be at least a little nervous about whatever business caused her to nag me again ... Knowing Mom, it was never just a social call. Never.

“Hi, Mom, what’s new?” I calmly spoke, but with just the slight undertone of impatience.

“So ... Felicia tells me that you’re against a joint checking account. Is that true? You won’t let her move in with you, either. Do you mind explaining what this is about? Are you two breaking up? You cancelled two dates with her this week, or so I’ve been told, and you’re not going to her church anymore at all. Is that true, too? She’s a really nice girl, for a goy, that is. I don’t mind you refusing to attend her church. I never approved of your openness to going outside the Faith. That being said, she is a nice girl and if she converted, well, she’d make a good Jewish wife and mother,” Mom started already with the guilt, enough to make me groan.

“Mom, will you, for once, not take Felicia’s side in everything? Remember me, your son? Sometimes, I think that you love her and my past girlfriends more as the daughters that you never had. Never mind that you do have an actual daughter. Remember Karen? Yeah, that girl. My half-sister. I know that she’s ... a sore subject, but you can’t keep blaming her for your affair that produced her. She’s a sweet girl, in fact.

“Anyway, I digress. You might not think that Felicia’s shit stinks, but I got news for you, it’s a lot of shit, and it smells suspiciously like the bovine sort. I don’t want to be pushed into a marriage or something of that sort, certainly not on her terms or yours. I don’t trust her enough yet with money to take that plunge about joint checking, and quite frankly, I don’t like her push to be put on the deed to my house, either. Did you know about that?

“In the event of a marriage and divorce, I am not going to lose a home in which I have invested my own damn wealth! I’ve heard too many horror stories about men who lose their shirts in divorces, mostly after their wives file for divorce or cheat on them or whatever. Sometimes, they get stuck paying child support for another man’s brat, too. Dad got lucky that you couldn’t pass Karen off as his, though it was a tough break for her, poor kid. So, yes, I’m gun shy about commingling funds and assets. Can you honestly blame me?” I ranted, causing some truly awkward silence for a bit.

“So ... it boils down to trust, or lack thereof. Look, Armie ... look, I know that I screwed up with my marriage. Trust me, I know that. Your father in turn did some shady and disgusting things to pay me and my boyfriends in kind, and I understand that. Then he forgave me ... and I ... I let go of that. Perhaps our marriage kinda scared you away from the institution, but it really is a beautiful thing, whatever the risks and pitfalls.

“I’m sorry that I wasn’t the best example in terms of married and family life. I think that your father would feel the same way, too, if he heard you talk that way. Our issues were largely due to a few mistakes on my part, which triggered some overreactions on his. We both fucked it up, if you can forgive my cussing on the Sabbath as I forgive you doing so as well.

“Don’t make another mistake out of your desire to avoid ours. Lock this girl in, because she’s desperate to do the same with you. That’s a keeper, a girl who’s terrified to lose you and is doing everything that she can to claim you for good. She might, I suppose, be a bit overzealous and that’s scary, it might even seem a little crazy, but that’s love. She’s not an ice queen. She’s not a cheater. She’s a good girl and if she converts, she’ll make a fine wife for you,” Mom tried to reassure me.

“Her obsession with money is a bit troubling, Mom. Also, since when do we try to convert goyim, anyway? That’s not our style. We turn people away three times before letting them convert in the first place. Also, it’s a matter of her wanting to control things. She’s coming across very ... aggressive, domineering even. It’s a bit disturbing to me, and quite honestly, I’m more than a little turned-off by it. I’m this close to just cutting her loose, to be candid. Those aren’t the only differences, but they’re the only ones that I feel like discussing with my mother, at least,” I stipulated, causing Mom to cough a bit now.

If I was a bit strident, it was partly because I was annoyed at having to pause my show, but I also resented the interference, period. Mom, as ever, always felt the need to tell me how to live, which I thought was rich, given her own track record. Maybe she wanted me to avoid her bad luck in marriage, and she figured that someone that eager to be with me must be desperate for the right reasons. If so, I had my doubts as to her judgment of character, of course. There was such a thing as a golddigger, after all, among other types of users.

“Well, just try to give the girl a chance, will you? I want you to listen to me for once and set up a new date with Felicia, and really talk this out. If you last, if you break up, at least you’ll have discussed it all. You need to fish or cut bait. I agree that some of what you said, not all of which she disclosed in her tirade, is a bit alarming out of context, but I hope to see you at least try to work it out, if you can ... If you can’t, at least it will be for the right reasons, namely that you’re just not good for each other,” Mom changed tacks, showing an adaptability that I frankly didn’t expect from her ... maybe she was getting smart in her old age.

“Love you, Mom,” I admitted, mostly to get her off my back, “Shabbat shalom.”

“Shabbat shalom to you as well, my son. Love you, too. Try and remember a mother’s advice. I mean only the best for you. And Felicia really is a sweet girl ... for a goy,” Mom urged me.