Chapter 17: O. M. G., Dad!

Just as everything calmed down from Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s, I got a call from Cindy and Jean, my two daughters. They announced that they had farmed out their young children to the other grandparents, and were coming to visit for a combined post-holiday break. Their husbands Josh and Blake would accompany them.

My daughters and their husbands lived about five miles from one another in a Chicago suburb. Cindy ran a florist shop, and her husband Josh was an insurance agent. She was thirty, and he was thirty-three. Jean was a junior partner with another woman that ran an art gallery. Her husband Blake was a software engineer. She was twenty-eight, and he was thirty.

There was no argument over whether they’d come or not. It was their announcement, and I accepted it with a chuckle. They were feeling guilty. I still didn’t say anything about my living situation and hadn’t in all the other calls that I had with them since Lynn appeared almost a year earlier. That was a mistake, as I was soon to learn.

I could tell from Cindy’s tone of voice that this was a ‘daughterly duty’ to cheer up good old but lonely dad. They had last been in Florida about a year earlier just before Lynn had come into my life. I had asked that they cut me some slack, stop coddling me as though I were some doddering and befuddled ninety-year-old widower, and be content with biweekly phone calls. By then, I had pretty well finished two books and was into a lot of stuff with my publisher in Ohio.

I think that I’d pissed them off slightly by telling them to back off, but they seemed to have gotten over my slight and the telephone calls were always friendly. In the worst of my depression, I’d even managed to be sober on the phone so they didn’t know how I was coping with my wife’s death.

Thus, I found myself alone driving to the Sarasota airport to pick up the four of them one Sunday in mid-January. The weather was idea and perfect for welcoming visitors from outside of Chicago where they’d already had sub-zero temperatures and a foot of snow with gale force winds.

My daughters and their husbands happily greeted me just outside of airport security. Our reunion was very family like. We collected their checked luggage and then filled my SUV with people and suitcases.

I had planned to tell the group about Lynn and Karen, but as a group they babbled about their trip, their families, their children, their jobs, and more all the way to the house. They felt compelled to tell me what they wanted rather than ask anything about my life. I just nodded as I drove, trying to show that I was paying attention. Several times, I did say to the group, “I have something to tell you.” My words were disregarded, and I knew they’d find out soon enough when we got to the house.

Lynn, Karen, and I had the house looking like it belonged in a Better Homes and Gardens magazine holiday edition. Not only was it spotless, but Lynn had insisted that we have several bouquets of fresh flowers in vases in each of the guest bedrooms, the living room, and even the kitchen. Moreover, it remained decorated to the nines for the Christmas holiday, complete with tree and festive garlands with lights. The house had never been so decorated, and it was the work of Lynn and Karen, assisted by Mel and Robbie. I liked the additional décor, so had insisted that it remain until the end of the month.

My two lovers were also mentally prepared to be seen in some negative way by my offspring. I realized that their presence would probably elicit shock in my daughters, and after that I couldn’t predict their reactions.

I pulled the car up in front of the house so that we’d come in by the front door instead of through the garage. There were two wreaths on the double doors. As I stopped, the door opened and Karen and Lynn appeared looking loving and adorable. They were dressed sharply in some expensive casual clothes that I insisted they have. As though to make a statement, each of them wore a blouse that had belonged to Nancy. We had agreed on that mode of dress, not to rub my new lovers in my daughter’s face, but to make a statement that we had all moved on.

I chuckled to myself. There was a truly awkward moment when Karen and Lynn stood a dozen feet from the front door about that distance from Cindy and Jean, and everyone looked at each other.

I stepped up and spoke. “Cindy. Jean. This is Lynn and Karen, my girlfriends. Please, let’s get your luggage out of the back.”

There were some polite greetings and then everyone took at least one bag into the house. Lynn and Karen babbled about how glad we were to have them as visitors and how we were ready for them with some great and extra-warm weather, and so on.

Lynn directed Cindy and Jean and spouses to each one of the guest bedrooms. Cindy and Josh took the bedroom on the left of the hallway, and Jean and Blake the bedroom on the right. I hadn’t had to breakup my office in the fourth bedroom at the end of the hallway for this number of guests. The master bedroom, of course, was our domain.

Given the time of day, I announced that drinks and hors d’oeuvres would be waiting for them on the patio. I also informed them that the pool was open and heated, and ready for swimmers from the north. The temperature that day had just topped eighty, but at night it was apt to go down into the forties. A pool heater was mandatory if one wanted a swimmable pool that time of year.

Josh and Blake lit up at the idea of swimming in January. Karen said that she’d also swim and pranced off to change into her bathing suit.

I took drink orders and while the travelers organized their suitcases, I went to the kitchen and prepared things.

I had cans of beer for the two men. They were out the door and into the pool in seconds. I was sure some of their actions were to avoid the social awkwardness and interactions that still hung over their arrival at the house. I had always gotten along with my sons-in-law.

Cindy and Jean came out and I presented them their glasses of wine. Lynn was setting out cheese, crackers, and a few other snack-like things. She also had a smile about as wide as Kansas.

Cindy asked me, “Where did Karen go?”

I responded with a smile, “To our bedroom to change into her swimsuit. She should be out in a second. She swims every day, and multiple times on the weekend days. It’s a very Florida thing to do.”

“Oh.” I could tell that was a thoughtful word. I’d quite intentionally used the possessive compound noun ‘our bedroom’ to respond to her question. I also hoped that my casual reply revealed a little about our level of intimacy.

Cindy turned to Lynn and asked, “Do you live nearby?”

Lynn’s head cocked to one side with a puzzled look. She slowly said, “Yes. I live here. Jim, Karen, and I live together.” She gestured to the master bedroom wing of the house.

Just then Karen appeared in a phosphorescent day-glow green bikini that would stop traffic anywhere around the world. She smiled at everybody, took a sip of her wine, brushed by Lynn in a sexy way – even making contact by dragging a hand across her butt, and then went and dove into the deep end of the pool. She surfaced near Josh and Blake, and they commented to each other about the pool and such.

Jean stated, “Karen seems like such a good friend to Lynn.”

I said, “To all of us. Both Karen and Lynn have been instrumental in helping me turn my life around after Nancy died. They work for the same company, Emptive Aerospace, that has a big operation up by the airport. Karen runs HR for them, and Lynn is the manager of their technical and logistics group.”

I went further to fill the conversational void as my daughters studied the two women in my life. I spoke with pride, “Lynn has a daughter at Ohio State who was here for Christmas with her fiancé; she’s a freshman business major. Karen’s mother was also here for Thanksgiving and Christmas. She’s a buyer for Macy’s department stories, and went off to Europe to see about next fall’s fashions.”

Jean said with emphasis, “And ... Lynn lives with you?”

“Yes, and so does Karen.”

Cindy observed, “But we just took over the two guest rooms?”

I stepped up to the edge of the precipice and leapt over the edge. “Oh, they don’t use the guest rooms. We live in the master bedroom, and, of course, the rest of the house. I tried to explain in the car. We’ve been living together for over nine months. We’re a rather serious threesome.”

A long silence ensued as we watched the three swimmers doing lazy laps in the pool. Karen’s brilliant swimsuit was hard to miss. I also expected that it was having an impact on Josh and Blake. Karen no doubt planned that.

Cindy finally summed up my revelation in a loud, attention-getting voice, “O. M. G., Dad! You mean you’re living with TWO WOMEN!” There was shock, and disappointment in her few words.

I smiled, “Why, yes. We love each other, and that’s what people that love each other do. We’re quite compatible.” I tried to keep my response simple and based on unarguable facts.

Jean had started to sputter like a misfiring motorboat engine. “But ... but ... but...” seemed the order of the moment. Her frown showed that she wasn’t happy with me.

Lynn had backed away from the group slightly, and then went inside. She came out with a large bowl of peanuts and pretzels for everyone. She had a forced smile trying to override the shock my daughters were exhibiting.

Cindy whirled to Lynn, “Is that true?” Her tone was caustic.

Lynn nodded, and came to my side. She took my arm and squeezed me tight. “If you mean, do I love him, the answer is yes. I love your father with every fiber of my being. He saved my life and I guess in some ways I saved his. Karen helped immeasurably, too. Our threesome is very strong and loving.”

Jean said in an accusing tone, “Are you a gold digger?”

“JEAN!” I whirled around and yelled at my younger daughter. “You stop this right now; Cindy, you, too. I love Lynn and Karen. Your attitude sucks, and if you persist, I am quickly going to asking you to leave the house. I had as much in the formation of this threesome as they did. If you are angry or peeved at one of us, you are angry and peeved with all of us.”

Before I’d finished, Karen had rushed out of the pool and joined my other side with a towel around her. We faced off with Cindy and Jean. I reached out and pulled both of them to my side, even the dripping Karen.

Cindy moved in front of Jean and said, “Let’s give them a chance.” I knew she was referring to the two women in my life.

After a long silence, Jean turned to Lynn and said, “I’m sorry. I just feel protective of dad. I’m still unsettled about the three of you. Do you, you know, sleep together?”

I stepped in and firmly said, “Our love life is really none of your business, Jean.” I then softened a little, “Perhaps if you knew how the three of us came to be, you’d feel a little better.”

My offer of more information was tacitly accepted and we all sat down at the patio table. I’d never known the two husbands to be so silent. They’d watched and listened for a couple of moments and then went back to swimming laps.

Lynn gave a vivid description of her crumbling marriage to Doug, and then her last physical encounter that ended with her bruised and leaving for Sarasota and an uncertain but new future. She told about calling her friend Claire and asking for help in her chosen destination.

I picked up the story about wanting to help somebody, and calling around to announce that to some friends. I told how a connection had been made through one of my friends and that I’d invited Lynn to come by the house. I emphasized how the two of us clicked and that she’d never left. I told how the idea for her to stay was strictly my idea. I also told that she’d used one of the guest rooms.