Chapter 12

The next morning, we were dressed, all packed and ready to go. I was waiting to say good-bye to Ruthie. I saw the entire family come out to the pool. Ruthie saw me and waved. Her dad held her back from coming to me.

We waved and left.

Saddened, we headed back to our place - letting Mom know when we were back in town. After a good long nap, I got up and dictated an article for Kami to type into the computer:

NUDITY IN AMERICA
In these modern days, some old-fashioned values still exist. Rooting for the home team, taking your gun out on the first day of duck season and taking your clothes off and enjoying yourself around others who are just as naked as you are!

This reporter and his partner, posed as newbies to the ‘clothing-optional’ resort business.

We went to a ‘high end’ resort and a ‘bring the whole family’ resort. It felt like the modern day caste system ... melted way. You had no way of knowing, if you were sitting next to a soccer mom, a schoolteacher, or a state senator.

Although the different body shapes and designs were as different as the colors of a rainbow, there was unanimity of personages all clinging to their own respectability.

“Damn, Randall – this is good! You have an awesome point of view going on here. Sorry, had to tell you that!”

That same is true for the very young. They have no foibles or personal flaws to get in their way. I met a marvelous young lady on this journey through my own respectability.

She saw me as a tower to crawl up on, and peruse the kingdom below her. At first, I felt something that was totally reprehensible inside me. Despite our both being naked, we became friends – very good friends.

When I went to leave, with my shirt, slacks and shoes back on, I saw her and waved good-bye – hopeful she would run to me. Her father, in his defense, thought better and kept us from hugging each other good-bye.

Behold the mighty caste system, may it reign forever!

As Kami had caught up to me, I heard the sounds of tears. She saved the document, got up and kissed me.

“You are going to be one hell of a daddy!”

I printed the article, taking one for Mom to read. She was in the kitchen as usual. I put it down on the kitchen table.

“What’s this, honey?” she asked.

“My story for the paper, I would like you to read it and make sure it passes the Mom test!”

I was absolutely certain that she would disown me, and maybe even...

She sat down about halfway through reading it. I saw her face go resolute, and then she giggled. I knew where she was in the story. Then she stopped, gathered up her dishrag and got up.

She went back to what she was getting ready for dinner that night. Humming some nondescript melody as she tasted her brew on the stove. ‘Needs more cumin, ‘ she said barely above a whisper.

“Mom?”

“Yes dear?”

“What did you think of the article?”

“Honestly?”

“Absolutely, I know you’re fair and honest all of the time.”

“Randall, that ... was the best piece of writing you’ve ever shown me – I assume you’ve shown me everything you’ve written, in the past?”

“Yes, I have!”

“Well, I need your ‘partner’ to help set the table for four. Your father will be home any moment.”

“Honey, I’m home!”

“Do I know him ... or do I know him?” mom said.

I gave her a kiss and thanks. She slapped me on the butt and told me to go wash my hands. Dad joined me in the bathroom washing his hands. “How long have you been home?”

“Late last night, our girls are waiting to serve dinner.”

“Oh, has Lynn come to her senses?”

“No Dad ... it’s not Lynn,” I said resolute, as we walked into the kitchen.

Dad turned to Mom and got his wallet out giving her two twenty-dollar bills. “I didn’t believe it, but your mother saw it almost immediately. Please tell me you’re being safe?”

We were all sitting down, with our stew, salad and new potatoes. One of our regular meals.

All through the meal we were fielding questions about what we planned to do with our ‘progressive relationship’. After answering all we could, I threw it back to Dad, asking, “Do you have any ideas that could help us?”

“Well, while I can’t tell you that I never had the hots for any of my sisters, but, I can tell you, you two have a very difficult road to hoe.”

“What was that about having the hots for your sisters?” I picked up on.

“Well, I wouldn’t classify it as the hots, but being the youngest of five kids and the only boy, they did tease me a lot, especially after I turned sixteen.”

“What kinds of things would they do?” Kami asked.

“You don’t really want to hear this story, do you kids?”

“Maybe, I do?” Mom said putting a bite of potato in her mouth.

“OK, but you all will be sworn to secrecy about this, OK?”

We all agreed.

“I need to remind you of my sisters, your aunts:”

“I’m forty-two, younger than your mother, (that got him a slap on the wrist.) Next oldest is forty-three-year-old Kathrine, ‘Aunt Kathy.’ Then, forty-four-year-old MaryAnn, ‘Aunt Mary.’ At forty-six is Danielle, ‘Aunt Dani.’ And at forty-eight, is my oldest and prettiest sister Alexandra, who we all called Alex most of our lives.”

“Grandma Phyllis had a stillbirth, which would have been another sister, before Alex, but it didn’t seem to stop her and Grandpa Stephen from pumping out five more kids.”

Mom was quick to ask, “Is Alex the prettiest because she is the oldest or because she has the largest bosoms?”