Chapter 3

Whitney

The pitter patter of little feet in the guest room woke me up. Realizing that we were soon to be invaded by an overly excited munchkin, I slipped on a tank top and a pair of shorts. Just in time, too, as a moment later Madison stormed in, as excited as, well, a kid on Christmas Day.

“He came, Mommy! Santa found us here and he came!”

A barely awake Jenn half sat up, covered by a sheet, and sleepily replied. “I told you he would. Now go and make sure Skipper doesn’t get into any of the packages. Whitney and I will be down in a few minutes, okay? Can you do that for Mommy? Please?”

Madison nodded her head and practically floated out of the room.

Those slate-blue eyes made contact with mine, then they were chased by a simple good morning kiss.

“She’s so cute. Almost as cute as her mommy.”

“It’s okay, you can say it, she’s cuter than me.” She gave me a peck on the cheek and headed for the bathroom.

The morning was filled with giggles and squeals of a little girl opening presents. What she got from Jenn was practical stuff, new (to her) clothes for a growing girl. There were a couple coloring books and some new crayons from Jenn’s mom, a few books and a stuffie from her other grandparents and, surprising to me, a box from Hawaii. The return address was from Petty Officer D. Olinski so I figured it was from Madi’s father. Inside was a plush doll in traditional Hawaiian dress.

“Mommy, there’s an envelope here with your name on it from Daddy.” Madi grasped the envelope, holding it with the hands of her new doll, and brought it to her mom. Inside was a simple Christmas card with a note and a copy of some official-looking paperwork.

“Oh my,” Jenn muttered as she read the card. “Looks like Dallas is getting transferred to Coast Guard Air Station Port Angeles. He is wondering if it would be possible to get visitation privileges then. Just a few hours, one day a month to start with.”

“Is that a good thing?” I asked.

“Not sure. I think so, but I’ll need to think about that.”

I noticed a card sitting next to an empty box, picked it up, and scanned it. “Oh, Madi, there’s a note in here to you from your daddy. It says that your doll’s name is Nani, which means ‘beautiful or pretty’ and she was handmade near his station by a local artisan.”

Madison hugged Nani and repeated her name multiple times.

Madi opened her last present. “To Miss Madison from Miss Whitney,” she read, with a little assistance from Jenn. As soon as she glimpsed the colors within the wrapping, she got even more excited than she had been all morning.

“Mommy, an Elsa dress!”

I helped her open the package and put on her new costume over her pajamas, then she put on the matching tiara, picked up the wand, and began to prance around the house with Nani in her other hand.

“Well, that’s a hit.” Jenn mumbled. She had a mix of emotions on her face.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Nothing ... nothing. I’m happy to see her happy.” But she didn’t look at me, nor was she watching her daughter when she said it. I think I knew what it was, but kept my mouth shut.

Jenn began to pick up all the wrapping paper and boxes to put them in the recycling and garbage. I grabbed a few more and followed her. She held the lids open when I put the last few items in the cans.

“It’s not fair, Whitney.”

I put my arms around her as she buried her face in my embrace.

“I’m a terrible mother. I can’t afford to get anything fun for my daughter. All I could do was get her some clothes she needed, and that took me months to save up for.”

I thought about trying to tell her how awesome she was to provide for Madison, but I didn’t think she would have listened to me right then. Instead, I just held her.

We returned upstairs to the middle floor of the townhouse to watch Madison play with her new doll. I got out a few teacups, and we all had “tea.”

Eventually it was time for us to head over to my parents’ house for Christmas dinner. As we got ready, I could tell that Jenn was getting nervous. It was the little things, how she fidgeted putting on her ankle boots or picking at her finger.

As we climbed into my Jeep, I heard a big exhale. “Why did I wear this skirt? I hate skirts.”

“You look great in a skirt, babe,” I said, trying to boost her self-confidence. It was obvious to me anyway: she looked good. Black skirt and tights, and a dark gray sweater. Then she did her killer move, tucking her hair behind her ear. If there was something sexier on the planet, you’d be hard pressed to prove it to me. The sight of her little hoop earrings at the bottom of her lobe and the couple of studs above always made me swoon. Looking for more support, I turned to Madison, still in her Elsa dress, over her little jeans now. “Isn’t your Mommy pretty?”

“Yeah, Mommy, you look pretty!”

“Thanks, sweetie.” Jenn reached her hand behind her and gave Madison a pat on the leg. But I could tell by her voice she wasn’t swayed by my attempt to give her a vote of confidence.

We drove across the city, barely making it across the Ballard Bridge before it went up to allow a sailboat to pass through its opening span. As we drove through the residential neighborhood, Jenn was rather silent. As we approached the gate, I clicked the opener and the wrought-iron gates opened to allow us in.

“You didn’t tell me your parents live in a mansion. This yard alone is almost as big as the park Madison plays in.” Jenn’s eyes were wide, and the look on her face ... It hadn’t crossed my mind how intimidating the place might be. To me, it was simply home.

Jennifer

Whitney parked her Jeep in the large circular drive by the front door. I could see a large Christmas tree in a two-story bay window from the driveway. Madison already had her seatbelt off and climbed into my arms, clutching her new doll.

Whitney unlocked the front door and ushered us in.

“Merry Christmas, Sweet Pea!”

I could see Whit blush a little at the term of endearment directed her way. A pleasant looking older gentleman, Mr. Mitchell I assumed, came around the corner, his arms outstretched to greet his daughter. White hair, slightly thinning on top, dark trousers and blue dress shirt. The accountant look was completed with a pair of round wire-rimmed glasses.

“You must be Jennifer, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Whitney can barely stop talking about you. And this must be Miss Madison.” He reached out and patted Madi’s back, who had suddenly gone very shy in my arms.

“That is a pretty dress you have on, Madison.” I heard an older woman’s voice coming down the hall.

“Merry Christmas, Mother.” Whit gave her a hug. Mrs. Mitchell turned to Madison and me. “It’s nice to meet you, Jennifer. Please come in, make yourself at home.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell.” Mr. Mitchell led us to the living room where the Christmas tree I’d seen from outside filled the alcove in front of the bay window.

“That’s a big tree, mommy!” Madi exclaimed, her head moving up and down to take it all in.

“It’s a little smaller this year than in years past, a tad over fourteen feet tall. In some years past we had a tree that went up the whole twenty feet to the ceiling,” Mr. Mitchell proudly told us.

I looked at the tree and wondered how much it cost. He reached out a hand to Madison. “You know, Miss Madison, Santa came to our house last night and left something for you here. Would you like to check it out?” He gave me a wink.

“Go on, honey. See what Santa left you.” I set her down. She looked at me a little scared and clutched her doll tightly.

Mr. Mitchell got down on his knee and looked at Madison. A gentle smile was on his face. “I see you have a friend with you. What’s her name?”

“Nani.”

“That is a pretty name. Did Santa bring her to you?”

“No, she’s from my Daddy. He sent it from...” She wrinkled her nose trying to remember. She looked at me, “Where is Daddy, Mommy?”

“Hawaii,” I said, distractedly.

Madison turned and looked back at the white-haired gentleman. “He is in Ha-wai-e,” she answered, carefully saying each syllable. “He jumps out of helicopters to save people who can’t swim.”

“Wow, your daddy must be very brave. It takes a special person to do a job like that.” It was clear to me from the gravity in his voice and the expression on his face that he understood the risky nature of Dallas’ job, yet at the same time was not trying to scare Madison with all the what if’s which might be going through his mind. Over the years I’d driven myself crazy thinking about all the things that might happen to my daughter’s father and what that would mean to her. But like all the other times, I pushed those thoughts into the recess of my mind and focused on the present and what I could control.

Mr. Mitchell smiled at Madison and offered his hand to her. She took it, and they walked over to the tree. There was a lone present, carefully wrapped in green paper with snowmen on it.

All her fear vanished when it came to ripping wrapping paper off. “E-e-e-e-e-e-!” Little arms waved back and forth with glee. “Mommy, it’s Anna.” She hugged the doll of Elsa’s sister and immediately introduced Anna to Nani, then promptly began to ignore the adults in the room as she played with her new dolls.

“Thank you, Mr. Mitchell. It was very kind of you to think of her.”

“Well, thanks for coming. And please call me Ben. When Whitney said you two were coming over, I stopped by the store on my way home from work. Been many years since I was lucky enough to buy a doll for someone.” He put his arms around Whit.

His affection for his daughter was the total opposite of every interaction I’d had with my own father. I barely remember him being around. He left when I was about Madison’s age. In fact, I’d only seen him twice since, and both of those times were awkward visits that were mercifully short. Mrs. Mitchell pulled Whitney towards the kitchen to help with dinner, leaving me alone with her husband.

“Nice place you have here.” The living room was massive, I could only imagine what the rest of the mansion was like.

“Thanks. It was built by Whitney’s great-grandfather. Someday, it will be hers. This place needs children running around in it. Not a couple of old people.”

I replied with a weak laugh.

“Try not to be overwhelmed by the place. I know I was when I first came calling on Edith years ago,” Ben said as he gestured over to the sofa for me to sit. He sat across from me in a stately wingback chair. “So, Jennifer, Whitney says she met you at our company holiday party. I don’t recall seeing you there.”

I sheepishly grinned. “Well, um, I was part of the catering staff. I was picking up some extra work that night. Hopefully, I won’t need to do that much anymore. I started a new job right after that. I think you might have heard of the company I now work for.”

“Indeed, Whitney told us. So how do you like working there?”

I was about to answer when Whitney called us to the table. There was quite a spread laid out. There were two large platters, one with a stuffed lamb crown roast and the other with a large fillet of Chinook Salmon. Additionally, there were three types of salad and four other side dishes. More food than Madison and I could eat in a couple of weeks.

My little girl leaned over to me as I sat down. “Do I have to eat the broccoli salad, Mommy?” She was trying to be polite and whisper, but like most four-year-old little girls she hadn’t really mastered the skill yet.

“Yes, we talked about this the other day, you need to try a bite of everything. It’s the polite thing to do.”

“But Mommy, it’s broccoli. All green and icky.” The little pout on her face was so cute.

“You need to have just a little.”

“No!” she squinted her eyes, crossed her arms, and scowled at me.

“Madison Grace!” As I gave her the look, I was cringing inside. This is not how I wanted to appear before Whit’s parents. But being a mom was job number one, and I will not be sassed like this.

Little arms fell to her lap and her head bowed. “Okay Mommy,” she mumbled.

I used my finger to lift her head back up. Making eye contact and smiling, I softly said, “Thank you sweet girl. I love you.” And gave her a peck on the forehead.

Ben leaned over to Madi, smiling, “You don’t like broccoli either?”

“Broccoli is yucky.” Her little frown was so cute.

“I agree,” he said, and he gave me another wink and sat next to Madison.

The food was fabulous. I had never had lamb before, and if I ever get a chance to have it again, I will. Unfortunately, I was the topic of conversation over dinner. Mrs. Mitchell asked me a lot of questions about how I liked working at Maritime so far. I think she already knew how I was doing, and she was well versed in how I had gotten the job. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had pulled a copy of my resume and the interview notes from my employee file. She was always polite, but there was a formality to her that I never quite grasped. Almost a sternness to her speaking.

Near the end of the meal, she asked, “Whitney said you were in a homeless shelter for a while when you came here from Montana?”

“MOTHER!” Whit slammed her glass on the table.

I reached over and put my hand on hers. “Yes, Mrs. Mitchell, we were in a shelter for a while. I’m from Idaho, not Montana, though there’s not much difference once you cross the state line. Just a small town in the middle of nowhere.”

“How did you end up in the shelter, if I might ask?”

Maybe it was my nerves, but I felt rather put on the spot. It took me a moment to think of how I wanted to phrase my response.

“I came out for a job that turned out to be a scam. And shortly after that the friend Madison and I were staying with decided to move to greener pastures in California. So we were out on the street with little money and no job. Not at all what I had thought I was getting myself into when we came. Shortly after that my old car broke. No way did I have $2,500 for a new transmission. That made getting a job even harder. Plus trying to find one that I could also balance with having Madison in daycare. It’s not easy.”

“I can only imagine. What are your goals now?”

I gulped, looking over at Whitney for support. I got a smile and felt her comforting hand on my thigh under the table, an unspoken signal trying to tell me I was doing fine. I think.

“I’m not sure at the moment. I guess you could say I’ve met the ones I had. Get out of the shelter, get a job in something other than food service, and complete my associate’s degree.” I ticked each of my goals off on my fingers. “Now ... give my daughter a better shot at life than I got.” The look I got back from Mrs. Mitchell told me she wasn’t impressed.

“Well, I think you’re doing that fine, Jennifer.” Mr. Mitchell’s voice was the opposite of his wife’s. So gentle and caring. It made me smile.

“Thanks. I think my other goal is to continue my education. Get my bachelor’s.” There, maybe that would satisfy her.

“Good for you. What field of study?” Mrs. Mitchell actually perked up at this.

“That I’m not sure about yet. Marketing, maybe, or maybe HR. But,” I looked at Whit, “definitely not accounting. I took one course, and that was enough for me.” Both Whit and Mr. Mitchell laughed at that one.

“Well, I guess that is better than no plan.” She dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin. Ugh, I don’t think anything I could say would impress this lady. “Whitney, dear, can you please help me clear the table?”

“Yes, mother.” She looked at me and gave me a small eye roll.

“Here, let me help.” I started to pick up several of the dishes. One thing I know how to do from working in restaurants and in catering is how to carry many plates and serving items in my arms and not drop them. I followed Whit into the kitchen and set them all on the counter with nary a clink, and couldn’t help but notice I brought in more items than Whit and her mom combined.

“Thank you, Jennifer. Whitney, you should take Madison and Jennifer upstairs and show Madison your doll house. I am sure she would like that.”

Whit led the way upstairs to what she called the playroom. Like so much of this place, the room was huge. My whole apartment could fit in here. There were signs this had been where Whit played as a little girl, bookshelves with children’s books on them, a bench with many well-loved stuffies and, in the corner, a large dollhouse. It was clearly made to look like their home, complete with a large bay window, like the one the Christmas tree was in. Next to it was a bin full of Barbies and accessories. Whitney showed Madi, and it didn’t take long for her to be totally immersed in a world of make believe.

While Whit and Madi played with dolls, I looked around the room. There was a glass cabinet filled with mementos of Whitney’s childhood. A second-place figure skating trophy, a trophy with a skier on top, a picture of people rowing with their arms raised in victory, and a number of other trophies and ribbons. There were also a few playbills from school plays. One even had her name on the cover, she must have been a lead in that one.

“Looks like you were a busy girl growing up.”

“Yeah, Mom would have put me in even more activities if she could have. She always wanted me to be involved in a lot of things.”

“Hmmpf, not surprised. I don’t think she likes me. Not ambitious enough for her tastes, or something. And here I was proud to make sure my baby was housed, clothed, and fed.”

“Don’t let her get to you. You’re an amazing woman. She just doesn’t see it yet, but she will. It often takes her time to warm up to someone. You should be proud of what you’ve done. I am, my dad is, and she will be, eventually. I think he’s talking to her right now about it.”

Whit wrapped her arm around me, and her embrace began to put me at ease. She held me while we watched Madison play. We were probably there for ten minutes when Mr. Mitchell came into the room, waved at us, then proceeded to ignore us and sit down next to Madison. Next thing I knew he was right there with her, playing with the dolls.

After a bit, he looked up and winked at us. “Been a long time since we did this, huh Sweet Pea. Kinda miss it.”

We both came over to join in. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve played with a dollhouse,” I mused. For sure, it was at a friend’s house, since I never had one of my own. The four of us played for probably an hour before calling it quits.

When we reconvened in the living room, Mrs. Mitchell must have taken a happy pill or something. She even smiled at me. Whit put her arm around me as we sat down on a sofa. I couldn’t tell if the conversation was more pleasant, or maybe that I just felt less under attack.

Madison told Mrs. Mitchell how she sang Gloria in the Christmas pageant and that yes, Miss Whitney was there to see it. Now it was Whit’s turn to get a little from her Mom about not being a stranger in church. I don’t think it had much effect, though.

The conversation continued for quite a while longer until Madison let out a big yawn and crawled into Whit’s lap.

“What? No mommy snuggles?” I made a fake pout.

“Nope, I want a Miss Whitney snuggle.”

Whit looked at me and stuck her tongue out at me, followed by a wry smile.

“See honey, you look good with a little one in your lap. You know, there are ways to get one of your own.” Mrs. Mitchell was now snickering at her daughter.

“Mother! Ugh, you’re incorrigible.” Whit looked over at me and smiled. “Although, I think I will keep these two cuties around me, if that’s okay with them.”

Madi, still in her lap clutching to both Nani and Anna, nodded her head in agreement.

“Well,” I said, “I think we’d best get going. Otherwise, this one is going to have a meltdown soon.” With that, we started to make our way towards the door. As we were putting our coats on, Mrs. Mitchell touched my arm.

“Thanks for coming tonight, Jennifer, and for bringing Madison. She’s a great young lady. I had forgotten what Christmas is like here with children around. This place is meant to have children running all over the place this time of year. It brings back so many memories from when I was a little girl. And Madison, take good care of those dolls ok?” Her smile this time was friendlier. “Whitney, the Island house is still available to you and your friends on New Year’s. We’re not going up.”

“Thanks, I’ll let you know if we want to use it.” Giving her a bit of a side eye, I got a little head nod back, and she mouthed “okay” to me.

“So, what’s the deal with the islands?” I said, as we pulled out of the driveway.

“Mom and Dad have a place up on Friday Harbor and we can use it if we like. I had planned on going up with Molly, but that was before I met you. We can go up if you like. Maybe get the boat out and take a little cruise.”

“I don’t want to impinge on your time with your friend, Whit.”

“Well, I think things are going well with her and Dylan, so I think she’d be fine not coming. Then again, maybe both of them would like to come up. The place is big enough.”

“Sounds like a fun idea.”

We got back to Whit’s place, and as I expected, Madison didn’t last long. We actually had to work to keep her awake until her normal bedtime. When that time came, she was out quick.

“And now the Mommy can relax!” exclaimed Whit as I came downstairs from tucking her in. A glass of wine was waiting for me, as was a comfy spot on the couch next to my sexy brunette.

Curling up next to her, I got a big whiff of lavender, which was quickly becoming a passport to my happy place. I closed my eyes as a finger began to trace over my body. The light touch through my shirt, that contrast of pressure in a tight defined space and then nothingness, was simply amazing. If she kept this up, I was going to drag her to the bedroom.

I set my wine glass on the coffee table and looked at her with the most expectant eyes I could. Those big brown eyes locked on mine, holding me motionless. I was about to take charge when she caved in first.

“Fuck, Jenn, I have to get you upstairs, now!”

“‘Fuck Jenn’, I like the sounds of that.” I snickered as I followed her sashaying hips up the stairs.

Shucking our clothes as fast as we could, we slid under the covers and snuggled up to each other. Now there was nothing between her hands and my skin, and the sensations were amazing. Soon it was not just her hands roaming my body, but lips as well.

I closed my eyes and let Whitney have her way with me. My legs were parted, and hands began to caress my inner thighs. Periodically, a finger would graze the hair on my pussy. My arousal began to become more noticeable, and this seemed to spur her on.

Now her hand was gently pressing against my mound, and the pleasure radiated from it.

“Whitney, this feels so good.”

“Relax, enjoy, and let it wash over you, babe,” she whispered in my ear. A finger slipped inside me and began to explore. I could tell she was looking for my mythical, sensitive spot. I shook my head from side to side.

“No, you want me to stop?”

“No, keep going. I’m sorry but you’re not hitting anything special ... But don’t take that the wrong way, as I’ve never found it either. Maybe your and my fingers are not quite long enough?”

Whit gave me a demon possessed look and slid herself fully between my legs. The feel of her hair brushing my thighs as her lips danced on my nub heightened the sensations she was giving me. I felt wonderful, loved, and cherished. But it was just a long tease, nothing more was coming. She kept trying, to no avail. Dejected, she stopped after a while, frustration plastered on her face.

“Well, this is disappointing, I’ve never not been able to give a woman an orgasm before.”

I didn’t mean to, but I started to giggle. She sounded like a man. I thought about how she was brought up, her competitiveness and her being so goal oriented, her reaction wasn’t surprising.

“It’s okay, I appreciate your effort. But I do enjoy what you do to me. I feel so relaxed? No, that is not the right word, connected maybe? Close? Whatever it is, I like it. It’s special, ‘cos I’m with you. And I know that you care for me.”

I pulled Whit close, kissed her, holding her in my arms. The feel of her bare skin against mine sent tingles throughout my body. I felt so close to her. However, at the same time, doubts began to creep into my mind. Doubts about my orientation. Was that what the problem was? Was it me? Was I not like her and needed a dick?

I also recalled reading somewhere that after giving birth, some women are not able to, or at least were severely limited in their ability to, have an orgasm. Realizing I could obsess about this all night, I pushed it into the corner of my brain and returned my focus to Whitney.

It was now my turn to run my hands over her body. They found their way to her ample hips and ass. Subconsciously, my hands began to control her hips, and she began to grind on me. Realizing I could help her more, I raised my knee and bent my leg to provide her with better contact. Soon she was bucking against my thigh, and I could hear a change in her breathing.

“Yes!” Whit sure was vocal, and it made me feel good as I continued to help her reach her bliss. When she was done, quite a bit later, Whit rolled off and began to catch her breath. “That was m-m-m m-m-m good.”

I stroked her hair and took her in. It felt good to make her happy. Her hand reached up to my face and tucked some of my hair behind my ear.

“We’ll get you there Jenn, and when we do, you’re going to love it.”

I debated saying that it would be okay if I never did, but I held my tongue. Instead, the last thing I remember before falling asleep was her warm breasts pressed into my back while she spooned me, and the feelings of love washing away any doubts about us, about me.

Whitney

I texted Jenn that I was on my way to pick her and Madi up. It was Friday, New Year’s Eve, and we were headed to the islands. Molly and Dylan had agreed to join us and would meet us at the ferry terminal. We loaded Jenn and Madi’s bags in the back of the Jeep, including one filled with books and stuff to keep Madi occupied.

All three of us bipped and bopped to some tunes on the two-hour drive north to Anacortes. We were listening to a playlist I had found on Spotify of a cover band from Virginia. They were tight, and I especially liked it when a couple of the female vocalists sang I’m Feeling You to each other. Jenn and I looked at each other and the both of us could feel the connection between us. I reached over and grabbed her hand and held it all the way to the ferry dock.

Molly texted that they had parked their car in a lot and were in the terminal. They would walk on, and meet us by the ferry snack bar. Since getting one of the limited car slots on the ferry is difficult, we had previously agreed that we would all pack into my Jeep for the couple mile drive from the ferry terminal on the island to my parents’ place. My parents had built a nice place, almost 5,000 square feet, overlooking Haro Strait and across the border into Victoria British Columbia.

Finally, we maneuvered ourselves onto the ferry and parked my Jeep. Molls and Dylan were waiting for us, and we found a window booth to enjoy the ride. Madison was excited about her first trip on a boat. She was plastered to the window, watching the ferry navigate through the small islands on their way to Friday Harbor.

“Mommy, look!” She pointed out the window as the ferry passed a pod of orcas. We could see a handful of fins breaking the surface as the whales came up for air.

I held Jenn’s hand and realized that I was growing rather attached to this woman and her little girl. I hadn’t said it yet, but the thought of telling her that I loved her was moving out from the periphery and looking to take center stage.

Feeling as complete as I did in this moment, I dreaded that if something were to happen between us now to break us apart, I’d be twice the wreck I’d been after my big breakup. For as long as I’d been with Heather, I don’t think I’d ever felt as connected to her as I did with Jennifer now. Maybe it was my biological clock ticking, or the fact that I was going to turn thirty this year, but my mind kept wandering over to the idea of making Jenn and Madi my family.

Of course, I had no idea if that was something Jenn was interested in. So far, it was an unspoken desire on my part. I noticed that Dylan was crouched next to Madi, pointing out something to her, when I heard a voice snapping my attention back.

“Earth to Whit, come in Whit. Hello, is space cadet Whitney Mitchell there?” I glanced over to Molls, who was smiling at me.

“Oh hi, sorry, kinda got lost in thought there.”

“He he, I can see that. Did those thoughts have something to do with that blonde in your arms?”

Jenn picked up on Molls’ playful tone and stuck her tongue out at her. “She’d better be thinking about me, if she knows what’s good for her.”