Chapter 185

“And I certainly refuse to change the story to suit their whims.”
—Isaac Asimov, The Best of Isaac Asimov

I HEARD A BABY CRYING. We were just kicking off our shoes at the door when I heard it and I quickly pushed my way inside to see what was going on. It was a short outburst and the child was a little more than a baby. A toddler had fallen and bumped his head on the kitchen table. He was quickly quieted by his mother.

“Francie! What are you doing here?” I called as I rushed to her.

“Hello, Jacob,” she said, shifting the toddler to her hip so she could reach around me for a hug and kiss. “Started any revolutions today?”

“Please,” I said. “There’s a limit to how much I can do. Hello, William Jay. How are you? You’ve grown so big!” Francie’s son hid his head against his mother’s side.

“Francine’s service just ended,” Em said. “Isn’t that wonderful?”

“I just came by for a little visit as I’ve two weeks off.”

“Two weeks off what?” I asked. “I thought Em said your service just ended. Do you have a job already?”

“Oh, yes. I’ve re-upped for six more years,” she said. I stared at her. She volunteered for six more years of service? That’s insane.

“Will you tell us about it?” Em asked. We sat at the table. Brittany was off in the sunroom, telling the other pod members that she had permission to marry us. I saw Cindy had gone home. I needed to talk to her parents, too.

“They made me an offer I couldn’t refuse,” Francie started. “It’s so silly how wrong we had the whole concept of National Service. We were so afraid when we graduated. And it turned out to be nothing at all like what we feared. I was employed in a creche where I could bring my son. I took care of babies and toddlers, got regular vacations and holidays, and was given the opportunity to get specialized classes in child development and education. Not only am I doing work I love, I’m providing a highly needed service to our country and to our children. In return for reupping, I’ll be working toward my teaching degree and will start working with nursery school and kindergarten children. And I still get to keep William with me. It’s wonderful!”

It was mind-boggling. Francie loved her service career. Em had tolerated hers. Leslie was barely surviving hers. I thought of the others I knew who were in service. It ran the spectrum from good experience to horrid. I wondered if the service reform we’d been pushing would be equally beneficial to all occupations or if we’d be making it worse for some. I needed to get off my high horse and look around.

14 January 2022

Today’s the day and I’m nervous as hell. More than going to Brittany’s Sunday. I’m having dinner with the Marvels and asking them to give Cindy permission to join the pod in a formal partnership. I haven’t actually seen Betty and Mark since we got back other than a quick hug at the airport when they picked up Cindy. But today, Cindy is going home right after school to make dinner for the family and I’m invited.

Two years ago, I promised the Marvels that I would do everything I could to support and advance Cindy’s music career. I thought that meant I’d be her accompanist. I’m not sure how they feel about the direction our career has taken. We’re popular musicians. Both our names are recognized widely, especially after the New Year’s Eve broadcast. But I’m not sure the Marvels expected Cindy to become a political activist or to become a classical version of a pop goddess. And I’m sure they didn’t expect her to ask to get married before her seventeenth birthday.

It will be hard on them because they’ll lose two children from the household in short order. Keith will start his service this summer and now Cindy will leave to become part of our household. Poor Luke will become the single focus of both his parents.

If ... If they grant their consent to the partnership. And after tonight, they’ll know beyond a doubt that Cindy and I are lovers.

Lord, help us all survive.

“Are you sure this is okay?” I asked. “Shouldn’t we have some group ceremony to do this?”

“It’s wonderful,” Em said. “You won’t be putting these on every member. Beca has already taken off for the weekend in Chicago. You’ll have to plan a long weekend in DC just to capture our girlfriends there.” Em broke off what she was saying to hold her hand out and look at the ring on her finger.

“It’s so different from what I imagined it would be,” Donna said, admiring her own ring.

“May I?” Sophie asked. She took my hand and slipped the ring on my finger. The rings weren’t all the same. We’d gone on a buying expedition earlier in the week after everyone had expressed their style preference. By and large, the rings were simple and not huge rocks in settings that stuck out from the finger like a beacon. We planned to have just one ring that symbolized to us our union as a partnership. We wouldn’t be getting separate ‘wedding’ rings. I held the box with Cindy’s ring in my hand and hoped I’d be able to put it on her after dinner.

“You’d better get going,” Em said. “Don’t worry. It will all be fine.”

I don’t know if Betty and Mark were intentionally being obtuse or if they were really clueless about why I was sitting at their dinner table on a Friday night with their daughter pushing food around on her plate and barely speaking.

“So, what is your plan for the next concert?” Mark asked. “Going to lead a march on the capital?”

“Uh ... No sir. We don’t have the specifics yet, but we’re told it will be an intimate gathering, more like the one we did at the chapel a few months ago. Small audience and live stream to our patrons. Strictly classical works,” I said.

“Hmm. It will be nice to see you do something classical,” Betty said. “Not that I object to the movie music, but Cindy is a flautist, not a rock star.”

“A little of both now,” I said. “According to comments on our channel, our patrons are in love with her.” I looked at Cindy and took her hand. “So am I.”

“It’s wonderful that you’ve grown close through your music,” Betty said. I swear she was goading me just to embarrass me. I took a deep breath.

“Mr. and Mrs. Marvel—Betty and Mark—on behalf of our pod, I have come here tonight to ask for your daughter’s hand in partnership. I know your dreams for Cindy included marriage, but we are part of something bigger than just the two of us. We want to create a legal plural domestic partnership. Soon. I speak for everyone in our pod—Beca, Rachel, Emily, Joan, Desiree, Brittany, Nanette, Sophie, Donna, Olivia, and Remas—when I ask for Cindy’s hand. We love Cindy and we want to unify our pod as soon as possible to tell the world that we are together and intend to stay together. Please. I know what a treasure I hold in my hands,” I said as I placed our joined hands on the table so everyone could clearly see. “I know it is impossibly difficult for you to let go of that treasure at such a young age. But we are committed.”

The speech wasn’t what I planned, exactly. I was sure I’d practiced better words. Cindy held my hand tightly in both of hers as we watched her parents.

“Is this truly what you want, Cynthia?” Betty asked. “Don’t you want to be young and free for a while longer?” Cindy actually snorted.

“Momma, I’ve never been young and free. The closest I’ve ever come to that is when I am with my pod. All my life, I’ve been sheltered here in our home where I could practice. I’ve gone to school and come home to practice. I’ve left home to play concerts and returned home to practice. I have known becoming part of our pod was what I wanted since the first time I played a rehearsal with Jacob. The first time our eyes met as we played Libertango. Every time we have joined together to create Mozart on Fire. But Jacob—as much as I love him—is only one piece of the whole. I am in love with every member of our pod. I want to spend my life loving them, creating with them, and living with them. From this day forth.” Cindy completed one of the longest speeches I’d ever heard from her. I wondered if she’d practiced it in her speech class. Betty sighed. I noted she had her husband’s hand clasped in hers.

“All the usual things a father should say are non-starters,” Mark said. “I can’t ask how you intend to support a wife and children when the two of you are pulling in as much each month as I do in a year. I assume you plan to live at the farm with your other pod mates and Donna is okay with that.” I nodded. “And if you have reached this point, it is too late for me to try to guard my daughter’s chastity.” Cindy blushed. That was answer enough. “There is one thing, though. You are still young. I agree you are in a unique circumstance with your performance partnership. You are in a unique relationship with your other mates. But you are young. Betty and I—your parents as well, Jacob, and Rachel’s, Livy’s, Desi’s, all—have learned things through our years as parents that no one in your pod has had the opportunity to experience. Our knowledge isn’t perfect, but it was raising you that gave it to us. Don’t cut us out of your lives. Come to us for advice, for counsel, for comfort. And let us come to you when we are burdened as well. Creating your own new family unit does not mean you are no longer a part of ours. Let it expand and strengthen both.”

I sat there nodding struggling not to cry at his beautiful words. But he hadn’t actually said he’d give his consent. I looked at him with a raised eyebrow as Betty slumped against him and he put his arm around her.

“Sir? Does that mean... ?”

“Yes, Jacob. Cindy, that means we will give our consent to you joining the legal plural domestic partnership.” I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Cindy,” I said turning to her, “will you do me the honor—do our pod the honor—of joining us in true partnership?” I held out the ring box and opened it so she could see the ring. It wasn’t that big a surprise as she’d been consulted on the choice.