Chapter 8

The day at the park turned out to be very great, as the girls adored Abel and he played with them and their mother vigorously, whether pushing them on the swings or catching them as they went down the slides. He even went on the monkey bars with them and made sure that they didn’t hurt themselves in the process of getting rid of that excess energy. As with Saturday, the first Sunday that Abel Lindberg spent with the Montini family was a real hit with the ladies, mother and daughters alike. They had a very atypical attitude about their mother’s boyfriend from what many friends felt about grown men in similar situations. Then again, Abel had proven to have a different attitude about his girlfriend’s kids than was common as well.

“They know that you enjoy their company, that you don’t find them a nuisance. So many of their friends at school, their mothers’ boyfriends or stepfathers or whatever are annoyed by having the kids around, or else are creepy toward them or something. You know what I mean, too. It’s one thing to plan ahead for what to do to help educate them ... sexually in the future, but it’s quite another to be leering lustfully at a preteen girl, and yes, it happens more than we like to admit. The opposite is also a problem: sheer coolness or coldness or disinterest, to the point that the mother feels that she has to choose between her children and her lover or lovers,” Christina explained with pride in her man.

“I would never ask you to do that, and I hope you know that I would never hurt your little girls. I grew up with unhappy children in a family that was joyless, where Armageddon was always just around the corner, and where rules and control and everything like that stifled any fun or games or real kind of childhood for us. I’ve mentioned this before, but it was a real, dismal kind of upbringing. I never got a birthday card, a birthday cake, a party, or anything like that. The last thing that I would want to see is sadness or unhappiness in a child. So, I’ll let those losers lose out, but that’s not how I run this here ship, if you pardon that metaphor for this family,” Abel smiled as he caressed her cheek, albeit chastely at the moment, as the girls didn’t need to see anything racy just then.

“Exactly. You’re determined to be the Daddy that you never had. I can see that, especially after having met your father. Will someone take the bug out of his ass already? Pardon my French, but you know what I mean by that. The man just needs to get laid, and rather sinfully, too. It would do him a world of good to commit a sin or two, at least as he would define sin. It would be for his own good, but I’m not going to volunteer. The man’s touch would likely make my skin crawl. Let him find some other sexual surrogate, thank you very much!” Christina whispered harshly, even as she prepared for their picnic lunch.

“Oh, nice! Prosciutto, Genoa Ham, salami, pastrami, Swiss, turkey, and corned beef! On a nice, hearty, rye bread!” Abel praised Christina’s choices, relieved to not just have bologna on white bread, though he’d have gone for that after the workout that they just had.

“And some Dijon mustard!” Roni exclaimed, hugging her mother for a second before also giving Abel a very warm squeeze.

“Date an Italian girl, get Italian sandwich meat, babe!” Christina replied to her boyfriend, “and yes, I happen to like being able to answer ‘yes’ if some rich, white, stodgy old fart asks if I have any Grey Poupon.”

“Personally, I’d like to keep the grey poop off me!” Roni joked.

“So, the black poop is okay, then?” Jules teased her big sister.

“Hey, that’s NOT what I meant!” Roni poked her kid sister in the ribs, all of it in good fun.

“Now, girls!” Christina playfully chided, “let’s not talk like that when some of us have weak stomachs and don’t want to lose our appetites.”

“Namely me,” Abel confessed, blushing a little that his girlfriend had guessed his secret there.

“Well, not me, and you’ll get over it, but until then, let’s keep the toilet jokes to a minimum, shall we? The main reason that I have a strong stomach is that I’m a mommy and one gets over that fast, just to survive and keep sane, especially as a widow or divorcee or single mom, with no man around to do the dirty work,” Christina pointed out with pride how tough she had to become in many ways due to her main job of raising two brats by herself.

“You’ve done an amazing job, actually. You have two, very fun, playful, smart, caring young women that are growing up with your example. They’ll be hard-working, but not so much that they forget to play. They’ll have minds of their own and not be afraid to use them or speak them, either. I don’t think that whatever God might exist gave both boys and girls brains and mouths without the intention of both using them to the best of their ability, both as children and as adults.

“He, She, It, or They made humanity sentient and gave us the ability for abstract thought, for articulating our ideas, for speaking up and expressing ourselves with passion and conviction. I want them to continue growing up that way, not be repressed and forced to comply like automatons with the leadership of some damn church or governing body or organization or society or whatever! Sorry, end of sermon,” Abel blushed now, but Christina answered him with a kiss that would melt Jack Frost or a snowman.

“See now, that’s the Abel Lindberg that won my heart yesterday. At first, it was lust, but it didn’t take very long for love to form at all, once I got to know you as a man, as a person. Once you developed your own principles, and it clearly didn’t take long for you, once you were free from the mind-control techniques of the leadership of your cult, well, you really took a stand and formed your own opinions very fast. It’s quite clear that you’re determined to give your daughters the life that you never had, growing up in the shadow of the Watchtower or whatever. I love you for that, trust me,” Christina assured her new beau, very pleased with how he had taken to his new life as a future husband and stepfather.

“Hey, I’m gonna do my best, that’s all I can say. Anyway, great sandwiches for sure, babe,” Abel grinned as he dug in and ate his salami, turkey, and Swiss on rye and washed it down with some sun tea.

“What can I say? I’m a soccer mom. It’s what I do,” Christina winked, even as she thought of someday going back to the park and having Abel plow her good and hard from behind in one of the bushes.

“Good thing that I went for a soccer mom, then, isn’t it?” Abel laughed, as they finished up their meal and had to figure out what to do next.

“Movies?” Roni interjected.

“Sounds good to me, but what does your mother think? And at home or at the cinema?” Abel wondered.

“I love the way that you said that. It really is your home now, and you said that casually, without any hesitation or realization, as just an understood fact of life. Mind you, it is your home, and if you don’t want movies, it won’t be movies. It’s your call, not mine. You’ll decide that. But for my part, I suggest home, as I’m not exactly made of money, though having a second income will definitely help out. My job, it’s nice and pays reasonably well, but, well, it’s still just one income. Ramon’s life insurance helped for a little bit, but not forever,” Christina suggested, though she was confident that Abel should decide this matter.