Chapter 1: Relationships

"Rachael, Can we talk?" Beth asked, a couple of days after she'd given Ben her virginity in the hot tub in front of the whole family.

"Sure, Beth. What's on your mind?"

"Can you tell me about birth control? They don't really teach us anything useful in school and my mom would have a cow if I asked her. You seem to understand ... I want Ben's babies more than anything. But I think maybe it would be a good idea to wait a few years until we can get married."

"You had sex with Ben unprotected?" Rachael asked, dumbfounded.

"Well, I didn't really plan to. But everybody else was. And I wanted to so bad! And ... well ... you know..."

With a wry smile, "Yeah. I guess I do. Rule number one about being a woman: Your body is not your ally. Its goal is to be pregnant and carry babies. I had my tubes tied right after I had Leah. But we need to do something for you right now! Stay here." Rachael went to the bathroom the twins used. As she expected, there were a couple of containers of contraceptive foam in the cabinet.

Grabbing one, Rachael went back to our room where she proceeded to show Beth how to use the applicator and then talked with her about contraception and feminine issues generally.

"Would it be correct Beth, to assume that, now that you've started, you intend to continue having sex?" Rachael asked.

"Oh, yes..." Beth said, a dreamy expression crossing her face.

"Nothing I could say would stop you?" Rachael demanded.

"I—we—respect you a lot. We'd hate to go against you. But I won't give Ben up. And I'd already given him my heart—my love. Giving him my body was nothing after that."

"Good! We understand each other," Rachael said. "If I help, will you do your share?"

"Yes." Beth replied. Never one to use extra words, her 'yes' meant just that. She gave Rachael a big hug and a huge sigh of relief. She had found help and acceptance of her situation as a woman, in spite of her tender years.

Within a half-hour, Beth had an appointment for the next day with Rachael's gynecologist and before that day was over Beth had received a '3-month' shot, that being, in the doctor's opinion, a better option for Beth than daily pills or foam. (Beth also had a thorough exam. She was a fully functional female, in excellent health.)

The story of my life with Rachael—our life as a family—includes a number of events that I didn't personally witness. I'll tell the story the best I can, piecing together what Rachael and the kids told me later about what they saw, did and felt. Sometimes I was there, sometimes not. If it gets confusing, it is because life isn't always a linear event, either.

To the world, Rachael and I were old and close friends living together after our particularly nasty divorces, in the big old house I'd inherited. No one, ever, had any problem with that. Occasionally someone asked Rachael on a date. She always turned them down politely—thanking the man for the compliment, but leaving the impression that she just wasn't available. I operated dad's business and was respected in the community as a provider of good jobs, in a good place to work.

Some months after Ed's death, we had a quiet wedding in our parlor. Our children and Beth were the witnesses. Rachael became Rachael Jenkins. We didn't make a big deal of it. It seemed like we just put the church's and society's stamp of approval on a condition that had existed forever.

The twins were models of discretion, never exchanging 'significant looks' or holding hands in public. Inside our house, of course, it was different. But we all put on our 'public faces' when we had visitors.

Since Beth was one of us—she certainly knew all of our secrets—Rachael and I felt it was important that we get to know her family. So Rachael went over one afternoon and introduced herself to Beth's mother. They'd spoken often on the phone, but hadn't met. Rachael invited them over for dinner, so we could all get acquainted.

"Al, I'd like you to meet Margie Sommerset, Beth's mother. And this must be Beth's dad. Hi, I'm Rachael, Ben's mom—Leah's too."

Margie quickly said, "It's nice of you to have us. This is my husband, Frank. Frank, this is Rachael McCarthy and her friend, Al Jenkins."

While Frank and I were shaking hands, Rachael let Margie know that she was now 'Jenkins', too, and proud to be my wife.

I was pleased with this couple. They were about my age. Both were handsome people, carrying a few extra pounds, but not overweight. Margie was, in fact, a striking woman who, for some reason, dressed to minimize rather than accent how attractive she was.

During our dinner conversation, we reassured the Sommersets that we were very happy with Beth. No, she wasn't making a pest of herself. Yes, she was a good friend of us all, not just Ben. We made a point of asking that she be permitted to study with the kids as much as they felt they could allow. Her presence seemed to help our younger two settle down and get their work done.

And would they mind if we included Beth in some of our family events? The younger kids hadn't made many friends here and they really liked Beth. The threats from Ed and all that, while titillating to their schoolmates, had put many of them off and they were still avoiding Ben and Leah.

"I don't know just what you folks have done. But I like it. Beth was such a quiet introvert, we were getting really worried." With a fond smile at her, Margie continued, "Since she's been coming over here, she's opened up a lot more. It's like you gave her a 'self-confidence shot' or something."

Rachael grinned. "Don't you think having a boy as handsome as Ben and a year older, for a boyfriend would give a girl that age a boost in self-confidence?"

Frank agreed that it probably would. And I agreed with Frank that having a girlfriend as lovely as Beth—who now was blushing furiously—would have given me a tremendous boost in my self-assurance when I was Ben's age.

After dinner, the twins excused themselves to study. Soon, the other three did too, leaving only the adults in the parlor. I told Frank, "I'm really happy about Ben and Beth. I know it's way too early to be thinking such thoughts, but they seem to 'fit' so well, I wouldn't be upset if they became a permanent thing."

"I don't know about that, Al," he replied, "but the change in Beth is as amazing as it is great! Just a few weeks ago, if you'd said, 'Boo!' she'd have looked like she was going to burst into tears. Today she's well on the way to being a calm, confident, young lady with her head up and her eyes open."

"Remember, Frank," Rachael said, "Beth was one of a very few who stood with our kids during our trouble. The way I got it, she actually went up to Ben and told him how she felt about it. Ben says that was terribly hard for her. But she did it. That tells me a lot about her character. I like your girl, Frank. I like her a lot!"

Margie blushed at this and said, "I can see why she likes it here so much. You two, for all your troubles, function like a family should. You've made this a haven. There's peace here and lots of love. Your kids must feel really special."

"We hope they do. We work hard to make them feel loved and valued. We work hard to make this a secure place for them. And to make them feel they have a secure place in our affections, too. It's a good thing that Al and I were always close and good friends. We couldn't pull this off otherwise. But we see most things the same way, so it works for us."

The evening ended on that pleasant note. The Sommersets would be inviting all of us over, soon. In the meantime, Ben could come to their house whenever he wanted. Leah had arranged for Beth to stay over, so when Margie and Frank finally said good night and left, the kids were all in bed. (Beth in Ben's not Leah's.) In minutes, so were we.

Sara was troubled. She knew that Sam was much more than just her twin brother. With joy, she knew that they were mated, and nothing could keep them apart. But she also knew that what they contemplated was not exactly what society would want for them, and that the 'Mrs. Grundys' of the world would actively try to separate them—to the extent of jailing them and taking their children from them by force.

Knowing that Rachael and I loved her and supported the decision she and Sam had made helped—a lot!

Meanwhile, both twins dated occasionally, to maintain their 'cover'. They always dated good friends who would have a good time, but not expect anything more.

Their 'cover' included being super 'straight arrow'.

Often they'd just go to things together, or with a group. They became active in the youth group at church largely for that reason. It gave them a group of kids their age, who they liked, that they could do things with, without involvement.

Always a pretty girl, Sara turned stunning once her figure developed. She wasn't exceptionally voluptuous, but would certainly be called well-endowed. 'Stacked, ' was my word for her. Sara never had a lack of dates, though several boys only took her out once, when they found that she would not 'put out' after dinner and a movie. That reputation, enhanced by the reputation she and Sam had made in the church group, protected her from unwelcome advances. So she could be totally faithful to her chosen mate: Her twin.

She was too bright, with too active an imagination, to be comfortable with the situation. Not being able to see how they could work it out made her nervous.

Sara's thought was mostly linear, except that a lot of it was symbolic; this gave her thinking a highly intuitive appearance, to the outside observer. Like her twin, she excelled in math and sciences, did very well in the 'mechanics' of English, and struggled with 'Social Studies'. They both were nearly straight 'A' students, but were not considered 'nerds' or grinds. Sara was a happy girl, and fun to be around. She carried on an interesting conversation, without being a compulsive talker. And she had a social sense that let her talk to anyone without talking down, or appearing impatient with the completely inane comments many had to make.

Sam had played a year of football, then settled on cross-country—deciding that running was better exercise, with less impact on his body. He really enjoyed it, so Sara tried it too—and found that she liked it a lot. It fit her, being a sport where she could concentrate on certain known factors, and work on her own body and techniques to improve her times.

In the spring, they ran for the track team; both running middle distance races, though Sam threw the javelin, too. Sara thought she could have done sprints or hurdles, but her large breasts, though firm, flopped around too much, even with a sports bra, and disturbed her timing.

Knowing that they were going to college—to a GOOD college—and that they were going to live together somehow, Sara still worried about how they would manage it.

Over the rest of the winter and into spring, our cohesion as a family grew.

The twins, now 18 and seniors in high school, were 'a couple' at home. It was almost like two married couples in the same house, except that Rachael and I were always in charge. Our authority was never challenged.

No one, seeing the twins, could doubt they loved each other—deeply, totally, and exclusively. Rachael and I were happy for them. We felt that they'd be very good for each other, both now and for a lifetime. They had so much in common; they naturally presented a united front. Yet they were their own persons and could really get into it with each other.

One evening over dinner, Sara asked, "Dad? Mom? I need your help with something?"

"Sure, Sara. What do you need? That dress you're sewing? Better get Leah for that..."

"No. It's not that easy."

"Well," I said, smiling, "if you don't tell us what it's about, we can't help much."

Sara smiled back. She knew she was loved. "What I need is your help on how to reach some goals."

Ben and Leah looked up. "Do you want us to go in the other room?" Leah asked.

"No. I want you all here. I need all the ideas you can come up with..."

"What I—WE—need is a way we can work things out." Sam knew where she was going, and reached over to take her hand. "We want to get married, and attend college—a GOOD college. And finally, we want our children, of which I intend to have several, to be legitimate."

"Meanwhile," Sam finished for her, "we intend to continue to live together."

Sara smiled at her brother, and kissed him firmly. Then they smiled at the rest of us.

Their request was serious and important, so we all started giving serious thought to the problem we'd known was facing us.

A tall order.

They'd grown up in the community, where they'd been thought of as, not just brother and sister, but actual twins. It occurred to me that maybe they didn't know any different, either.

"Sam, Sara, did Susan ever tell you about when you were born?"

Both looked puzzled by the question, and shook their heads. DAMN that woman! She left everything involving the kids to me.

"I have a story to tell you ... Sam, you are the natural child of Susan and me ... Sara, darling, you are adopted. Your mother was a good friend of ours—Susan, Rachael and I grew up with her and were close to her all her life. You were born the day before Sam. I visited you and your mother in the hospital when I went to visit Susan and Sam ... Your mom was engaged to a guy, but when he learned she was pregnant, he took off. None of us ever heard from him again...

"Anyway, a year later, your mom got a staph infection, that went into her blood. Antibiotics couldn't touch it and it killed her. When she knew she was dying, she begged Susan and me to take care of you—which I was happy to do. (You know Susan never paid much attention to either of you.) Her 'death bed testimonial' was witnessed and you were adopted soon after your first birthday.

"Sara, even though you're not a child of my body, you have always been the daughter of my heart. I couldn't love you more, or be prouder of you!

"The only reason I'm telling you this is, I don't know if Susan even remembers that you aren't her natural daughter. You just said she never said anything to either of you. To all of us, you really are 'twins'. Your love for each other seems right and normal to me. But, most important, there is no real barrier to your marriage, when the time comes, if that's what you want."

Silently weeping, Sara just clung to me.

"Daddy. I love you so much! You'd have never told me that if I weren't in love with Sam, would you?"

"No Sara, I wouldn't. I love you. Just as much as I love Rachael. There would be no reason to tell you about your birth parents otherwise. And Sara, your mother loved you. Her concern for your welfare was more important to her than the fact that she was dying."

"Will you still be my daddy?" Sara asked, tears appearing in her eyes.

I just held her tight to me and let my own tears run down my face. Finally, I said, "I'm still capable of paddling your shapely butt. Don't you dare think anything else. You are my daughter. Period! I only told you this because I want you and Sam happy. You need to be together and I'm doing what I have to, to help you.

"But, darling Sara, the deeper truth is that you are my daughter and always have been and always will be. OK?"

I had an idea. "Why don't you guys go to the community college for your first two years? You can get all the required stuff out of the way, and live here at home, just like you have been. Then you can transfer to some university out of state as a married couple. Your ID has the same last name, after all."

Ben and Leah nodded. But Sam and Sara were just listening. They understood, but hadn't bought it.

"That way, you'd have college friends who know you as a married couple, and there wouldn't be any questions about it. Then, when you graduate and get settled somewhere, you could start having children and just be husband and wife."

"Daddy," Sara said, "that's a good start. But we want to be married. We don't ever want to have to look over our shoulders. We want our children legitimate, and we want to be able to live here in Oregon, if we decide to. Without any fears, ever ... I've heard such horror stories about the Children's Services people. I don't want that hanging over my head." She grinned broadly. "So keep working on it. OK?"

We all grinned back, and agreed that we would.

What we finally did was spend some time on research over the next several weeks. We found a nearby state that allowed cousins to marry. Proof of identity was merely a photo ID with address on it. The twins were already old enough to marry there without parental consent.

Rachael and I wanted it to be special for them, so we went to our pastor and told him that the twins were going to marry and we were very pleased about it. We wanted the name and address of a pastor in a smaller town in the state we had discovered, who would be willing to marry them, if we showed up with a marriage license.

Shocked, at first he wanted nothing to do with it. Then I explained that Sara was an adopted child. He still didn't like it. When I said, "Look: They're going to get married. I'd rather have it in church than in a courthouse. But that's where it will be if necessary. Will you help or not?" He finally did, but he still doesn't like it.

Just before their high school graduation, we told them we had a special graduation present for them. I took Sam to the jeweler's where he picked out rings for his bride, while Rachael took Sara to some specialty shops and bought her a wedding dress. It wasn't a white gown, but it was a pale green cocktail dress that looked like a million bucks on her. Back home, I told them to pack for two weeks. Then, right after their graduation, we all went to the airport.

The next morning, in a neighboring state, we got a marriage license at the courthouse. We drove in our two rented cars to the town where the church our pastor had found was located. Finding a motel, we rented a room and changed in shifts; girls and then boys (because we're faster). Finally, we drove to the church, where a minister was waiting.

Thirty minutes later, the twins were man and wife. We all cried.

Back at the motel, we changed back to everyday clothes and went out to the town's only nice restaurant for a wedding lunch. At lunch, I gave the twins air tickets to Anaheim and a paid voucher for the hotel at Disneyland. With a grin, Rachael gave them the key to the motel room we'd changed in. Leah gave them an envelope with $1,000 cash for spending money. Ben said his present was waiting for them at home. (It was a nice, late model, used car.) We told them to keep the smaller rental car—turn it in at the airport—and don't come home until the date on your return flight ticket. Call us just before you take off for Portland, so we can be sure to meet your plane.

We all cried some more. It was wonderful!

The twins had been accepted at the University of California. They were pleased to tell the school they were accepting the offer of admission as a married couple and asked for married student housing, rather than dormitory accommodations.

That fall, their apartment soon became a favorite gathering place for other students, married and single. Their grades were excellent and they were always a 'straight' couple, with no interest in drugs or in sex with anyone but each other. Alcohol was just a little beer or wine with the Friday night pizza.

I was so proud of them I could bust. They were everything I'd wanted them to be. I made a point of telling them so, when we visited them at Easter. I told them I loved them, too. Dads don't do that often enough, I think.

Sam later told me that Susan, who was now living in California, stopped to see them once during that first year of college. She was scandalized when she realized that they weren't living together as brother and sister, but as man and wife. (She hadn't been thrilled about the adoption of Sara to begin with. Though she'd mostly ignored the kids, beyond seeing to basic needs. She'd considered them brother and sister and in her incompetent way had raised them as such.) She started to have a fit, screaming and yelling.

"You mean, you actually got married? You can't do that. I won't allow it! That's incest, and perverted..."

Sara slapped her, hard—to get her attention. Then she quietly but fiercely said, "You have never been my mother. You've never even been a competent mother to Sam. So don't you dare start making that kind of noise about us now. Do you hear me?" With that, Sara slapped her again, to forestall a screech she saw coming.