Chapter 4 Fools Paradise?

In the beginning, my relationship with Adi and Kat was confined to the weekends, usually Friday evening, Saturday and returning back to my little place on Sunday noon. During the week each of us was dedicated to our responsibilities and confined our relationship to the occasional morning coffee and conversation if we were in the same vicinity. I have to confess that I was as happy as hell with what had happened. I was involved with two very amazing women, amazons I suppose you could call them. They filled my dreams at night and made them all come true on the weekends.

European women have very liberal ideas about relationships. I had some time to think about where my two ladies and I were headed in the future. Our project would last another fourteen months unless unforeseen problems arose. What then? The more time I spent with Adi and Kat, the more I wanted to spend.

It wasn't just the sex, although that part of our time together was incredible. We were so compatible in other ways. We enjoyed being around each other, whether it was a trip to Marigot for a little French cuisine and shopping or just relaxing on the back patio, getting some sun and talking about anything that came to mind. Strangely, I continued to feel no guilt about being intimate with them despite the fact that I was still married. That was uncharacteristic for the "old me."

It took me a while to tell the ladies about the disastrous end to my marriage. They were suitably shocked when I told them of Sandra's plot but not totally surprised that a woman of her age might take a lover. We had been sitting on the back patio one Saturday evening and after one more beer than I should have had I opened up to them.

"Dex," Adi began as I finished my story, "ladies ... as we get older ... we are afraid if we can attract a man. Look at us. To be sure we are not beautiful Paris models. We are the fat girls from school. The boys made fun of us. We had no lovers to catch us. Someday we might marry a farmer or such who was lonely but there would be no prince to come for us.

"Kat had dreams. I had dreams. We wanted a handsome man like you, Dex. But he did not come. We learned we were not beautiful but still we looked for a man who might love us. As we got older it was hard. Not so many men to find for us. Sometimes, a man would tell us nice things about how we looked and we might take him to our bed. We would want to believe him but it was not always the truth.

"Your wife ... Sandra ... perhaps she was afraid that she was not so pretty to the men. If a man like this Randall would tell her of her beauty she could believe it because she wanted it to be so. She was foolish. She did not remember what a good man she had already. She will learn. It will hurt her but ... she will learn."

I sat for a while, digesting Adi's words. Was it as simple as that? Did she get distracted by a man who complimented her on her looks when all along I knew just how beautiful she was? Was it that easy for Randall to seduce her? I hoped not but it had happened.

I was remembering a story from my great-grandfather on my father's side. He recalled having an old Model T Ford in the early thirties. Many of the roads where he lived in northern Ontario were still gravel or even dirt and over time and with the effect of rain, deep ruts would form in the roads and the tires would naturally follow whatever direction the ruts went. When it came time to turn off the road, it took a great deal of effort to slowly climb out of the ruts to go in another direction.

My life had been like that, I realized. I had created my own rut. My routine, which satisfied me in so many ways, was the rut. I was predictable. I took Sandra for granted even though I admired her beauty. I must have forgotten to tell her often enough. My family and friends could count on me because I was predictable. I offered them little in the way of surprise because I was predictable. And then, when Randall came along, he used that against me.

When I discovered Sandra's affair I did something completely unpredictable. I had extracted whatever measure of revenge and salvaged what I could, something no one would have expected. I had disappeared, leaving no hint where I had gone. I had climbed out of the rut and gone off in another direction and in doing so had found these two extraordinary women.

"Adi, Kat, I will not have you talking about yourselves that way. You are beautiful to me. You are not fat and you are not without admirers. I see the way men look at you and I see the way they look at me with envy. I don't have just one lovely woman on my arm, I have two. I think of myself as a very, very, lucky man."

My little speech brought smiles to their faces and we gather each other into our arms and kissed while we hugged. I had a feeling of contentment and satisfaction that I hadn't felt in a long time. But it didn't answer the question. When the project was done, what would become of us?"

Whatever we had set in motion that afternoon, it produced a change in our relationship. It didn't take very much convincing on their part when the twins suggested I move in with them. I hesitated at first, wondering if that would produce a problem but they were so persuasive that it was the right thing for the three of us that I put my doubts aside and agreed.

I packed up what little I had from my apartment, loaded it into their Citroen and left for the de Groot residence the next day. There wasn't any question about where I would sleep. I was to be with them in the big bed. I would use the wardrobe in the spare bedroom for my clothes but I would sleep with the ladies. I had no intention of arguing against that.

On Monday morning I was reminded that these ladies were all business on a business day. They rose at six, did their bathroom duties, made breakfast and sat with their morning coffee, discussing what needed to be done on the job that day. It was interesting to me that they too had their routine. Perhaps we are all creatures of habit.

What followed was fourteen months of blissful existence in my temporary paradise. The project moved steadily forward, although at a painfully slow pace. There were no problems with the engineering drawings or calculations and I found I wasn't working very hard on behalf of Pinecone. I kept in touch with Tom and he was satisfied with my reports, letting me know he hadn't heard from Sandra or anyone else for quite some time. I felt secure in my exile.

As the time of completion came nearer, I could sense the change in the twins. I suppose they could sense a change in me too. It was on my mind but I still hadn't come to terms with what I would do after this project was finished. It was Adi who broached the subject.

"Dex, what will you do when this work is done? Where will you go?"

"I don't know, Adi. I know I have to decide. I just don't know," I admitted.

"You might come with us," Kat said softly.

"Where?" I asked.

"Holland. We have a nice home. You would be welcome there."

"Perhaps first you need to mend your life in Vancouver, Dex," Adi suggested.

"That's probably what I'll have to do ... sooner or later. I need to deal with my marriage and then maybe I can decide what to do."

Our last two weeks in Sint Maarten was filled with signing off on the completion of the project. The girls would be staying behind for another few days to attend the official opening of the airport addition, since they were the bank's representatives. I met with the general contractor and he thanked me for my cooperation and assistance. My work was done. I had sent Tom an e-mail a couple of weeks earlier that I was coming back to Vancouver to "face the music" as I put it.

In fact, I had decided I needed to formalize the end of my relationship with Sandra. I would file for divorce but I would set the terms. If they were unacceptable I would simply disappear again. I had already proven that it wasn't that hard.

The twins and I had a tearful goodbye at the airport on a Monday afternoon as I boarded a commuter flight to Puerto Rico, then Miami, Chicago and finally, Vancouver. It would be a long journey but with my mind settled, I was almost looking forward to it. Adi and Kat were doing their best to smile but I knew they were thinking they would never see me again.

I was either in the air or sitting in some airport lounge over the next thirty seven hours and it gave me plenty of time to think. I hadn't used much of my cash. Living costs with the ladies were almost nothing aside from food and drink. Their employers paid for their accommodation. I sold the scooter for almost what I had paid for it and a cheap suitcase looked after the clothes I had purchased. Tom would have set aside whatever my salary was for this job. I had passed my anniversary date two months earlier and I could now think about what I wanted to do with my shares.

I prepared a written list of what I was willing to offer Sandra in the divorce. It was generous in my mind, considering her betrayal. It would be a take-it-or-leave-it offer with no negotiations. I wouldn't be hiring a lawyer until she had agreed and signed off on the list with a witness. to the proposal. Then it would be a matter of formalizing the agreement.

The only cool weather clothes I had taken with me were a breathable shell for rain and a sweat shirt for cool weather. I think I might have worn the sweatshirt three or four times, no more. When I landed in Vancouver it was 5˚C (41˚F) with a foggy drizzle. Exactly what I expected in late January. I hailed a cab and made for the downtown hotel I had reserved.

It seemed strange as I travelled the familiar, dark, rain-soaked streets of my home town. Not much appeared to have changed in the last year-and-a-half. There was no point in going out to Maple Ridge. I was sure Sandra would have thrown out all my clothes. I was also sure I would have to meet with her at least once in the next while and I had to wonder what kind of reception I would get. Anger? Sorrow? Regret?

And what about Randall? What had become of him? The package of e-mails I had sent to Mrs. Teller must have precipitated the divorce action Merry told me about. I had extracted my RRSP from Randall's clutches and transferred it to another firm located in downtown Vancouver. Tom had vouched for them as responsible and honest so I left my affairs in their hands. I would need an update from them and I made a note to get an appointment this week.

I checked into the hotel, then phoned Tom at his home to let him know I had arrived and would see him at the office in the morning. He was glad to have me back, he said. He had plans he needed to discuss with me. I wondered what that would be about.

I was tired. I hadn't slept more than a couple of hours since I'd gotten up Monday morning in Sint Maarten. With the four hour time change, the clock radio in my room might have said eight-fifteen Tuesday evening but my body thought it was quarter past midnight. I stripped, had a shower and fell into bed, asleep in no more than a minute.

Tom wasn't expecting me early on Wednesday morning so I had breakfast in the restaurant before going back up to my room to read the paper and catch up on the news. At nine-thirty I left my room and walked the two blocks to Pinecone's office and took the elevator up to the fifth floor.