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Bridge Engineering: Part 2
Bridge Engineering: Part 2
Why is my mom here?
Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.
I awoke to the sound of Lizzie's bathroom door opening and
closing, and the girls' footsteps moving around her bedroom. I laid there for a
minute then reluctantly pulled myself out of bed to splash some water on my
face and slip on a pair of flannel lounge pants and a t-shirt.
I emerged from my bedroom and looked down in the great room
to see the girls standing by the sofa looking at Stefani as she slept.
Toni heard me coming down the stairs and asked, "Why is
my mom here?"
Lizzie followed that with the accurate but impolite
assessment, "Her makeup is all smeared."
Before I could say anything, Toni shook her mom's shoulder
and loudly inquired, "Mom! Mom! Are you ok?!"
Stefani stirred, stretched her legs under the blankets, and
drowsily answered, "Yes honey, I'm fine. Mom just had a really rough
night."
Seemingly satisfied with that answer, Toni and Lizzie went
into the pantry and started lining up cereal boxes while debating the merits of
each selection.
By that time, I was also downstairs and gently offered,
"Good morning" to Stefani as I went about rekindling the hearth. She
moaned as she sat up on the sofa and said, "I'm so embarrassed. I can't
believe I came here like that last night."
"I'm glad you did. I don't know what that was all
about, but I was happy to know you were here and safe."
She gave a muffled "Thank you." while she hung her
head and cradled it in her hands, then mumbled to herself, "I can't
believe I thought he would be any different."
Toni must have had one ear tuned into our conversation and
interjected in an annoyed tone of voice, "Is this about a man?"
Lizzie looked at Toni, then at me and matter-of-factly said,
"She should go sit on the bridge." It was an unquestionable truth in
Lizzie's mind that time sitting on the bridge would fix whatever was bothering
Toni's mom.
I smiled and said, "Lizzie, I think that is a great
idea."
She puffed her chest proudly and went about pouring a bowl
of cereal.
I finished adding logs to the fire and suggested to Stefani,
"There's a half-bath by the kitchen, or you're welcome to use my bathroom
upstairs if you would like a shower. I'll pull together some fresh clothes for
you. When you are ready, I think we should go for a walk;” then in a
slightly louder voice added, "away from little eavesdroppers."
"You really wouldn't mind if I took a shower?"
"Not at all. I'll get you some towels and
toiletries."
The corners of her mouth turned upward in a small smile of
gratitude and, for the first time that morning, Stefani looked me directly in
the eyes and offered a very heart-felt, "Thank you."
She stood up, pulled the hem of her dress down, and followed
me up the stairs in her black legging covered feet. At the top of the stairs, I
reached in the linen closet and handed her a stack of two bath towels, a hand
towel, and a washcloth. My hands then sorted through some of the miscellaneous
toiletries stored in the same closet and added a toothbrush, toothpaste, and
stick of pre-teen girly deodorant.
I apologized as I set the brightly patterned container on
top of the towels, "Sorry, you're stuck with this unless you want to use
men's deodorant."
Returning to our inventory of toiletries, I started checking
labels on bottles of Lizzie's 2-in-1 bodywash and shampoo, "Ok, looks like
your choices are strawberry, cotton candy, or bubble gum."
She chuckled and said, "I think I'll go with
strawberry."
"Good call."
We proceeded into my bedroom where I motioned her toward the
ensuite bathroom and said, "Make yourself at home and use whatever you
need in there. I'm pretty sure the door locks. To be honest, I've never used
it."
She surveyed the bedroom and its contents on her way to the
bathroom and I walked the opposite direction toward my walk-in closet.
"I'll find some clothes while you are in the shower and
set them on the corner of the bed."
She softly said, "Thank you." while walking into
the bathroom and shutting the door behind her. I proceeded to rummage through
my closet looking for things that might work. I knew my clothes made for a
6'-3" tall man wouldn't fit her properly, but they were the only option
available.
My hands methodically moved across the wall rack, sliding
each hanger a bit so I could examine the respective article. After a few
minutes, I heard the sounds of Stefani turning on the shower, opening the glass
shower door, and then water sporadically splashing against the tile and glass
enclosure. My mind came to the awareness that there was a completely naked
woman in my shower, just on the other side of the door. I couldn't help but
think of how her intimate features must look as the steaming spray trickled
down her body.
Realizing I was standing there inappropriately fantasizing
about a woman in a questionable emotional condition, I snapped myself out of it
and continued thumbing through hangers to arrive at a pair of heavy flannel
lounge pants. They were a much too small Christmas gift from years past, but I
figured they would work for Stefani if she rolled the pant legs up a little. A
t-shirt and sweatshirt seemed like the obvious choices for her upper half given
a lot of women like relaxing in oversized men's clothes anyway.
Organizing my selections, I noticed there weren't any
undergarments and shrugged it off thinking she would just have to re-use what
she had on, or go commando, but then had a last-second thought to grab a pair
of boxer shorts. I folded everything neatly, set the items in a pyramiding
stack on the corner of the bed, and closed the bedroom door behind me on the
way out.
About 30-minutes later, the girls were in Lizzie's room and
I was sitting in the great room when Stefani padded down the stairs in bare
feet wearing the lounge pants and the oversized t-shirt that was slightly moist
around the collar from her damp curls. The t-shirt clung a little to her moist
torso and gave evidence of her unrestrained tits jiggling under the fabric. She
smiled as she reached the main floor and softly said, "Thank you. I really
needed that."
"You're welcome. Are you hungry?"
"Not really, my stomach is still turning a little from
last night." she said as she sat next to me on the sofa and folded her
legs beneath her. "I'm so sorry for the drama. I wasn't thinking clearly
and I'm thoroughly embarrassed I showed up here like that."
"Please don't be. Like I said earlier, I'm just happy
to know you're safe. You seemed pretty traumatized."
Stefani replied, "Traumatized is probably a little
strong." before seemingly pausing to consider if she wanted to offer any
more information. She exhaled loudly and hesitantly continued, "I've had
some; let's call them; rocky roads in my personal life, and last night was just
the latest example."
I sympathetically offered, "I'm sorry."
She shrugged her shoulders and introspectively recapped,
"I've worked with him for several years and thought he was a nice guy; and
he was until he started drinking. Dinner was enjoyable, but by the time we all
got to the dance club he was pretty buzzed and started getting handsy. When I
rebuffed his advances, he got belligerent and more forceful."
Stefani's eyes were beginning to swell as she recounted the
previous evening's events in her head. My own head was filled with questions
and concerns, but I sensed she had more to say and didn't want to hinder her in
getting it out.
"Thankfully, my coworkers saw what was happening and
interceded. He took off and that was the end of it."
She paused for a moment then tearily continued, "It's
not just him. Last night wasn't the first time something like this happened. I
seem to be a magnet for jerks and losers. At least this one wasn't married; that
I know of."
"I'm sorry."
She quietly repeated to herself something she had said the
previous night, "Why can't I escape it?"
I couldn't hold back my curiosity, "You said that last
night too. What do you mean you can't escape 'it'?"
She answered coldly through her tears, "Alcohol,"
before pausing for a few quick moments to gather herself and continuing,
"It ruined my marriage. It robbed Toni of a father. It turned my coworker
into a creep last night. Etc, etc;”
I took her hand in mine and said, "I'm sorry. I
understand."
She abruptly pulled her hand from mine and argued, "I
appreciate your compassion, but please don't say you understand."
I stood up and said, "I think we should go for a walk
outside."
I didn't really give her an opportunity to say no and walked
to the mudroom to get a jacket. I put mine on, then handed one to Stefani as
she followed me. We both slipped on a pair of my fleece lined muck boots. The
boots and jacket were both too large for her, but they would suffice.
I shouted to the girls that Stefani and I were going on a
walk, then we stepped outside.
As we strolled away from the house and into the woods, I
inquired, "Please tell me about your ex-husband."
"Well, we met in college and he was wonderful. I
thought he was everything I wanted in life. His drinking wasn't an issue then.
I mean we both went to the typical college parties and had too much to drink,
but it wasn't a problem. We married the summer after we graduated and started a
typical newlywed life."
Our boots crunched through fall leaves on the forest floor
as Stefani continued, "After we were married, he occasionally went out
with friends or old college buddies and came home drunk. Again, it wasn't
frequent and wasn't anything concerning."
We reached Lizzie's bridge and both sat on the edge dangling
our feet over the water below.
"Over time, and after Toni came along, his occasional
nights out evolved into several times a week and he became defensive whenever I
would say anything about it. Eventually, alcoholism; let's call it what it was;
completely overtook him. It wasn't just going out with friends anymore. He
always had a drink in his hand. Commitments were meaningless to him and he
would show up hours late, if at all. Toni's birthday parties, family holidays,
dates with me; it didn't matter."
"By the time Toni was three, he lost his job, which
only gave him an excuse to be drunk all day. I constantly begged him to get
help, but that would only agitate him and cause a fight. That continued for
about a year until his agitation turned into physical abuse. That was my
breaking point and I told him I wanted a divorce."
Stefani was now talking through streaming tears and I took
her hand in mine as a show of support.
"The night I told him, he went out to the bar and never
came back. After a couple weeks, I realized he was never coming back and I
hired a divorce attorney who, in turn, hired a private investigator to track
him down. It took a few months, but they eventually found him in Key West where
he could find work as a day laborer on fishing charters and beg enough money
and free drinks from tourists to get by. He demanded a healthy ransom to sign
the divorce papers but, at that point, I would have paid anything."
With that, she fell silent and leaned to rest her head on my
shoulder. We sat quietly listening to the gentle breeze in the trees,
punctuated occasionally by Stefani's sniffles.
After a few minutes of building courage, I sighed and
started talking, "I think I told you that Lizzie and I lived in Indiana
before moving here, right?"
Stefani answered softly with her head still on my shoulder,
"Yes."
"Well, I grew up there, in a very small town in the
southern part of the state. When I was younger, my dad was a functional
alcoholic. He was the best heavy equipment mechanic in the area and ran a very
successful business, but came home and drank himself to blackout every
night."
Stefani raised her head to look at me as I continued
talking, "He wasn't an angry or abusive drunk, and was never drunk in
public. He was just basically an absent parent. He worked all day then came
home, sat in front of the television and drank until he passed out."
"My mom did everything for us and held the family
together until she got sick when I was in 8th grade. The ovarian
cancer had already metastasized throughout her abdomen when she was diagnosed,
and she was gone a few months later."
My hand had held Stefani's while she was talking and now she
reciprocated by interlacing her slender fingers with mine.
"Even though he didn't show it, my dad loved her deeply
and her death sent him into a tailspin. He turned into a full-time drunk and
lost everything; the business, the house, the cars. There were many mornings
that I would wake up for school and find him passed out in the living room or,
worse yet, already starting the new day with a drink in his hand. When I was in
high school, it was common for me to get a call from the Sheriff saying he was
drunk or passed out somewhere around town. The Sheriff was a family friend and
just called me to come get him rather than arresting him. Looking back on it,
he was just an enabler by letting him go."
Stefani squeezed my hand in hers as I spoke, "I worked
odd jobs around town and managed to earn enough money for my dad and I to
survive in a tiny apartment above the hardware store. Between poverty status
and my good school grades, I managed to get a full scholarship at IU in
Bloomington."
"I was concerned about how my dad would take me leaving
for school, but it turned out I didn't need to worry. His only question was if
I would have a job and keep paying the bills. I did and continued doing so even
after Julie and I were married."
Stefani leaned against me as we sat on the bridge and
offered, "I'm sorry for what I said earlier. You do understand."
"Yes, unfortunately I do."
She cautiously probed further, "If I may ask, is your
dad still around?"
I had repressed this part of my past for years and wasn't
sure I wanted to dredge up those memories. My head hung and watched the
bubbling water below. After several minutes without a response, Stefani
squeezed my hand and prompted, "David?"
"He's in prison."
She dug deeper when she realized I wasn't going to elaborate
on my own, "Why?"
I continued looking into the moving water and softly said,
"Julie and Lizzie were hit by a drunk driver."
It took a second to register in her mind, "Oh my God,
it was him."
"Yes."
She took her hand from mine and, instead, wrapped both arms
around me in a sympathetic and understanding hug. We sat in each other's arms
for quite some time before I said, "We should probably go back inside and
see what the girls are doing."
Stefani agreed and we slowly made our way back through the
woods toward the house. As we walked, I said, "Lizzie doesn't know any of
that stuff about her grandfather. I'll tell her someday, but probably not
anytime soon."
"I understand. Toni was young enough that she doesn't
remember her dad and didn't know why he left. I avoided the topic for a long
time, but eventually I had to tell her."
"Lizzie knows that she and Julie were in a car
accident. She just doesn't know the part about my dad."
Stefani stopped walking and pulled on my arm for me to stop
with her. She pulled me into an embrace and said, "Thank you."
I returned her hug, then kept one arm around her back as we
finished walking to the house.
Stefani, Toni, Lizzie and I spent most of the afternoon
playing board games by the fireplace and enjoying the time together. As we did,
I found myself becoming attracted to Stefani, both mentally and physically. The
cold, guarded person I knew faded away and a new sunny, alluring personality
emerged as she smiled and laughed. I stole glances while she wasn't looking,
enjoying the simple way she sat with one leg folded beneath her and the other
pulled up so she could rest her chin on her knee, the way she twisted curls of
hair in her slender fingers when she thought, the way her neatly-painted toes
flexed when she reached for the board game pieces, and the way her eyes
sparkled when she laughed.
Later in the evening, Stefani and I collaborated on
preparation of an impromptu taco dinner, before we all said our goodbyes. Still
in my borrowed clothes as they left, Stefani gave me one more hug and whispered
in my ear, "Thank you again for taking me in." before giving me a
soft kiss on the cheek.
Uniting.
Play dates continued frequently for Lizzie and Toni over the
following weeks, both at Stefani's house and at mine. However, unlike before,
Stefani would invite me to stay and I would do the same when at my house.
Sometimes we would simply sit quietly in each other's company working on our
laptops. Other times we would chat casually about a wide range of topics,
getting to know each other and exploring our commonalities and differences.
During one of those discussions, we found ourselves talking
about balancing life demands as a single parent; children, work, cooking,
cleaning, etc., and how it left very little time for personal interests and
pursuits. I joked, "Ha, sharing the work is definitely a strong argument
for having a partner!"
Stefani looked at me and very seriously asked, "Have
you dated since Julie passed?"
"I've been on a few dates, but I wouldn't say I've
dated. A couple years after we moved here, some of my friends started trying to
set me up with people. The ladies were nice enough, but I wasn't ready yet and
it just didn't feel right. After a few dates, I decided it was best to just
decline their attempts"
She probed further, "How long ago was that?"
"The last one was maybe 4 years ago." I answered
before returning the question, "How about you? Have you dated?"
She groaned, "Hmm, my dating history isn't any better
than what happened with that guy from my office. I've met a few guys, but
they've all turned out to be jerks. I tell you, I'm a magnet for them. One guy
that I really liked and went out with for about a month, turned out to be
married. The others weren't that much different than the guy from work, and it
became obvious on the first dates that they were only looking for sex, not a
relationship."
"I'm sorry."
Neither one of us said anything more on the topic and we
moved on to other subjects, but there was an unspoken understanding that we
were both exploring the other person's openness to a relationship.
Friendsgiving.
The week after Thanksgiving, Stefani and I sat on stools at
my kitchen island tapping away on our laptop keyboards while Toni and Lizzie
played upstairs. I was answering emails, and Stefani was filling out what
looked to be a very complicated accounting spreadsheet on her screen.
After an hour or so, Stefani sighed and announced, "I
need a break from these numbers." She extended her arms straight above her
head and arched her back as she stretched. The motion served to thrust her tits
outward, stretching the fabric of her thin button-up blouse and revealing the
intricate texture of a lace bra beneath. It also caused the bottom of the
untucked blouse to rise upward, exposing a flat, toned midriff and cute belly
button.
Having been caught looking, she just smiled knowingly and
asked "How was your Thanksgiving?"
"It was good. Lizzie and I went over to George and
Linda's house for a 'Friendsgiving'. There were about ten people there, plus a
few kids. We stayed for most of the day, then came home and roasted some
marshmallows in the fireplace. How was yours?"
"It was stereotypical," she replied as she
continued in a mock monotonous tone, "We went to my parents' house, ate
dinner, and all the men fell asleep watching football while my mom and sisters
harassed me to find a husband. You know, all the usual things."
I said sarcastically, "Sounds d
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Bridge Engineering: Part 2
Why is my mom here?
Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.
I awoke to the sound of Lizzie's bathroom door opening and
closing, and the girls' footsteps moving around her bedroom. I laid there for a
minute then reluctantly pulled myself out of bed to splash some water on my
face and slip on a pair of flannel lounge pants and a t-shirt.
I emerged from my bedroom and looked down in the great room
to see the girls standing by the sofa looking at Stefani as she slept.
Toni heard me coming down the stairs and asked, "Why is
my mom here?"
Lizzie followed that with the accurate but impolite
assessment, "Her makeup is all smeared."
Before I could say anything, Toni shook her mom's shoulder
and loudly inquired, "Mom! Mom! Are you ok?!"
Stefani stirred, stretched her legs under the blankets, and
drowsily answered, "Yes honey, I'm fine. Mom just had a really rough
night."
Seemingly satisfied with that answer, Toni and Lizzie went
into the pantry and started lining up cereal boxes while debating the merits of
each selection.
By that time, I was also downstairs and gently offered,
"Good morning" to Stefani as I went about rekindling the hearth. She
moaned as she sat up on the sofa and said, "I'm so embarrassed. I can't
believe I came here like that last night."
"I'm glad you did. I don't know what that was all
about, but I was happy to know you were here and safe."
She gave a muffled "Thank you." while she hung her
head and cradled it in her hands, then mumbled to herself, "I can't
believe I thought he would be any different."
Toni must have had one ear tuned into our conversation and
interjected in an annoyed tone of voice, "Is this about a man?"
Lizzie looked at Toni, then at me and matter-of-factly said,
"She should go sit on the bridge." It was an unquestionable truth in
Lizzie's mind that time sitting on the bridge would fix whatever was bothering
Toni's mom.
I smiled and said, "Lizzie, I think that is a great
idea."
She puffed her chest proudly and went about pouring a bowl
of cereal.
I finished adding logs to the fire and suggested to Stefani,
"There's a half-bath by the kitchen, or you're welcome to use my bathroom
upstairs if you would like a shower. I'll pull together some fresh clothes for
you. When you are ready, I think we should go for a walk;” then in a
slightly louder voice added, "away from little eavesdroppers."
"You really wouldn't mind if I took a shower?"
"Not at all. I'll get you some towels and
toiletries."
The corners of her mouth turned upward in a small smile of
gratitude and, for the first time that morning, Stefani looked me directly in
the eyes and offered a very heart-felt, "Thank you."
She stood up, pulled the hem of her dress down, and followed
me up the stairs in her black legging covered feet. At the top of the stairs, I
reached in the linen closet and handed her a stack of two bath towels, a hand
towel, and a washcloth. My hands then sorted through some of the miscellaneous
toiletries stored in the same closet and added a toothbrush, toothpaste, and
stick of pre-teen girly deodorant.
I apologized as I set the brightly patterned container on
top of the towels, "Sorry, you're stuck with this unless you want to use
men's deodorant."
Returning to our inventory of toiletries, I started checking
labels on bottles of Lizzie's 2-in-1 bodywash and shampoo, "Ok, looks like
your choices are strawberry, cotton candy, or bubble gum."
She chuckled and said, "I think I'll go with
strawberry."
"Good call."
We proceeded into my bedroom where I motioned her toward the
ensuite bathroom and said, "Make yourself at home and use whatever you
need in there. I'm pretty sure the door locks. To be honest, I've never used
it."
She surveyed the bedroom and its contents on her way to the
bathroom and I walked the opposite direction toward my walk-in closet.
"I'll find some clothes while you are in the shower and
set them on the corner of the bed."
She softly said, "Thank you." while walking into
the bathroom and shutting the door behind her. I proceeded to rummage through
my closet looking for things that might work. I knew my clothes made for a
6'-3" tall man wouldn't fit her properly, but they were the only option
available.
My hands methodically moved across the wall rack, sliding
each hanger a bit so I could examine the respective article. After a few
minutes, I heard the sounds of Stefani turning on the shower, opening the glass
shower door, and then water sporadically splashing against the tile and glass
enclosure. My mind came to the awareness that there was a completely naked
woman in my shower, just on the other side of the door. I couldn't help but
think of how her intimate features must look as the steaming spray trickled
down her body.
Realizing I was standing there inappropriately fantasizing
about a woman in a questionable emotional condition, I snapped myself out of it
and continued thumbing through hangers to arrive at a pair of heavy flannel
lounge pants. They were a much too small Christmas gift from years past, but I
figured they would work for Stefani if she rolled the pant legs up a little. A
t-shirt and sweatshirt seemed like the obvious choices for her upper half given
a lot of women like relaxing in oversized men's clothes anyway.
Organizing my selections, I noticed there weren't any
undergarments and shrugged it off thinking she would just have to re-use what
she had on, or go commando, but then had a last-second thought to grab a pair
of boxer shorts. I folded everything neatly, set the items in a pyramiding
stack on the corner of the bed, and closed the bedroom door behind me on the
way out.
About 30-minutes later, the girls were in Lizzie's room and
I was sitting in the great room when Stefani padded down the stairs in bare
feet wearing the lounge pants and the oversized t-shirt that was slightly moist
around the collar from her damp curls. The t-shirt clung a little to her moist
torso and gave evidence of her unrestrained tits jiggling under the fabric. She
smiled as she reached the main floor and softly said, "Thank you. I really
needed that."
"You're welcome. Are you hungry?"
"Not really, my stomach is still turning a little from
last night." she said as she sat next to me on the sofa and folded her
legs beneath her. "I'm so sorry for the drama. I wasn't thinking clearly
and I'm thoroughly embarrassed I showed up here like that."
"Please don't be. Like I said earlier, I'm just happy
to know you're safe. You seemed pretty traumatized."
Stefani replied, "Traumatized is probably a little
strong." before seemingly pausing to consider if she wanted to offer any
more information. She exhaled loudly and hesitantly continued, "I've had
some; let's call them; rocky roads in my personal life, and last night was just
the latest example."
I sympathetically offered, "I'm sorry."
She shrugged her shoulders and introspectively recapped,
"I've worked with him for several years and thought he was a nice guy; and
he was until he started drinking. Dinner was enjoyable, but by the time we all
got to the dance club he was pretty buzzed and started getting handsy. When I
rebuffed his advances, he got belligerent and more forceful."
Stefani's eyes were beginning to swell as she recounted the
previous evening's events in her head. My own head was filled with questions
and concerns, but I sensed she had more to say and didn't want to hinder her in
getting it out.
"Thankfully, my coworkers saw what was happening and
interceded. He took off and that was the end of it."
She paused for a moment then tearily continued, "It's
not just him. Last night wasn't the first time something like this happened. I
seem to be a magnet for jerks and losers. At least this one wasn't married; that
I know of."
"I'm sorry."
She quietly repeated to herself something she had said the
previous night, "Why can't I escape it?"
I couldn't hold back my curiosity, "You said that last
night too. What do you mean you can't escape 'it'?"
She answered coldly through her tears, "Alcohol,"
before pausing for a few quick moments to gather herself and continuing,
"It ruined my marriage. It robbed Toni of a father. It turned my coworker
into a creep last night. Etc, etc;”
I took her hand in mine and said, "I'm sorry. I
understand."
She abruptly pulled her hand from mine and argued, "I
appreciate your compassion, but please don't say you understand."
I stood up and said, "I think we should go for a walk
outside."
I didn't really give her an opportunity to say no and walked
to the mudroom to get a jacket. I put mine on, then handed one to Stefani as
she followed me. We both slipped on a pair of my fleece lined muck boots. The
boots and jacket were both too large for her, but they would suffice.
I shouted to the girls that Stefani and I were going on a
walk, then we stepped outside.
As we strolled away from the house and into the woods, I
inquired, "Please tell me about your ex-husband."
"Well, we met in college and he was wonderful. I
thought he was everything I wanted in life. His drinking wasn't an issue then.
I mean we both went to the typical college parties and had too much to drink,
but it wasn't a problem. We married the summer after we graduated and started a
typical newlywed life."
Our boots crunched through fall leaves on the forest floor
as Stefani continued, "After we were married, he occasionally went out
with friends or old college buddies and came home drunk. Again, it wasn't
frequent and wasn't anything concerning."
We reached Lizzie's bridge and both sat on the edge dangling
our feet over the water below.
"Over time, and after Toni came along, his occasional
nights out evolved into several times a week and he became defensive whenever I
would say anything about it. Eventually, alcoholism; let's call it what it was;
completely overtook him. It wasn't just going out with friends anymore. He
always had a drink in his hand. Commitments were meaningless to him and he
would show up hours late, if at all. Toni's birthday parties, family holidays,
dates with me; it didn't matter."
"By the time Toni was three, he lost his job, which
only gave him an excuse to be drunk all day. I constantly begged him to get
help, but that would only agitate him and cause a fight. That continued for
about a year until his agitation turned into physical abuse. That was my
breaking point and I told him I wanted a divorce."
Stefani was now talking through streaming tears and I took
her hand in mine as a show of support.
"The night I told him, he went out to the bar and never
came back. After a couple weeks, I realized he was never coming back and I
hired a divorce attorney who, in turn, hired a private investigator to track
him down. It took a few months, but they eventually found him in Key West where
he could find work as a day laborer on fishing charters and beg enough money
and free drinks from tourists to get by. He demanded a healthy ransom to sign
the divorce papers but, at that point, I would have paid anything."
With that, she fell silent and leaned to rest her head on my
shoulder. We sat quietly listening to the gentle breeze in the trees,
punctuated occasionally by Stefani's sniffles.
After a few minutes of building courage, I sighed and
started talking, "I think I told you that Lizzie and I lived in Indiana
before moving here, right?"
Stefani answered softly with her head still on my shoulder,
"Yes."
"Well, I grew up there, in a very small town in the
southern part of the state. When I was younger, my dad was a functional
alcoholic. He was the best heavy equipment mechanic in the area and ran a very
successful business, but came home and drank himself to blackout every
night."
Stefani raised her head to look at me as I continued
talking, "He wasn't an angry or abusive drunk, and was never drunk in
public. He was just basically an absent parent. He worked all day then came
home, sat in front of the television and drank until he passed out."
"My mom did everything for us and held the family
together until she got sick when I was in 8th grade. The ovarian
cancer had already metastasized throughout her abdomen when she was diagnosed,
and she was gone a few months later."
My hand had held Stefani's while she was talking and now she
reciprocated by interlacing her slender fingers with mine.
"Even though he didn't show it, my dad loved her deeply
and her death sent him into a tailspin. He turned into a full-time drunk and
lost everything; the business, the house, the cars. There were many mornings
that I would wake up for school and find him passed out in the living room or,
worse yet, already starting the new day with a drink in his hand. When I was in
high school, it was common for me to get a call from the Sheriff saying he was
drunk or passed out somewhere around town. The Sheriff was a family friend and
just called me to come get him rather than arresting him. Looking back on it,
he was just an enabler by letting him go."
Stefani squeezed my hand in hers as I spoke, "I worked
odd jobs around town and managed to earn enough money for my dad and I to
survive in a tiny apartment above the hardware store. Between poverty status
and my good school grades, I managed to get a full scholarship at IU in
Bloomington."
"I was concerned about how my dad would take me leaving
for school, but it turned out I didn't need to worry. His only question was if
I would have a job and keep paying the bills. I did and continued doing so even
after Julie and I were married."
Stefani leaned against me as we sat on the bridge and
offered, "I'm sorry for what I said earlier. You do understand."
"Yes, unfortunately I do."
She cautiously probed further, "If I may ask, is your
dad still around?"
I had repressed this part of my past for years and wasn't
sure I wanted to dredge up those memories. My head hung and watched the
bubbling water below. After several minutes without a response, Stefani
squeezed my hand and prompted, "David?"
"He's in prison."
She dug deeper when she realized I wasn't going to elaborate
on my own, "Why?"
I continued looking into the moving water and softly said,
"Julie and Lizzie were hit by a drunk driver."
It took a second to register in her mind, "Oh my God,
it was him."
"Yes."
She took her hand from mine and, instead, wrapped both arms
around me in a sympathetic and understanding hug. We sat in each other's arms
for quite some time before I said, "We should probably go back inside and
see what the girls are doing."
Stefani agreed and we slowly made our way back through the
woods toward the house. As we walked, I said, "Lizzie doesn't know any of
that stuff about her grandfather. I'll tell her someday, but probably not
anytime soon."
"I understand. Toni was young enough that she doesn't
remember her dad and didn't know why he left. I avoided the topic for a long
time, but eventually I had to tell her."
"Lizzie knows that she and Julie were in a car
accident. She just doesn't know the part about my dad."
Stefani stopped walking and pulled on my arm for me to stop
with her. She pulled me into an embrace and said, "Thank you."
I returned her hug, then kept one arm around her back as we
finished walking to the house.
Stefani, Toni, Lizzie and I spent most of the afternoon
playing board games by the fireplace and enjoying the time together. As we did,
I found myself becoming attracted to Stefani, both mentally and physically. The
cold, guarded person I knew faded away and a new sunny, alluring personality
emerged as she smiled and laughed. I stole glances while she wasn't looking,
enjoying the simple way she sat with one leg folded beneath her and the other
pulled up so she could rest her chin on her knee, the way she twisted curls of
hair in her slender fingers when she thought, the way her neatly-painted toes
flexed when she reached for the board game pieces, and the way her eyes
sparkled when she laughed.
Later in the evening, Stefani and I collaborated on
preparation of an impromptu taco dinner, before we all said our goodbyes. Still
in my borrowed clothes as they left, Stefani gave me one more hug and whispered
in my ear, "Thank you again for taking me in." before giving me a
soft kiss on the cheek.
Uniting.
Play dates continued frequently for Lizzie and Toni over the
following weeks, both at Stefani's house and at mine. However, unlike before,
Stefani would invite me to stay and I would do the same when at my house.
Sometimes we would simply sit quietly in each other's company working on our
laptops. Other times we would chat casually about a wide range of topics,
getting to know each other and exploring our commonalities and differences.
During one of those discussions, we found ourselves talking
about balancing life demands as a single parent; children, work, cooking,
cleaning, etc., and how it left very little time for personal interests and
pursuits. I joked, "Ha, sharing the work is definitely a strong argument
for having a partner!"
Stefani looked at me and very seriously asked, "Have
you dated since Julie passed?"
"I've been on a few dates, but I wouldn't say I've
dated. A couple years after we moved here, some of my friends started trying to
set me up with people. The ladies were nice enough, but I wasn't ready yet and
it just didn't feel right. After a few dates, I decided it was best to just
decline their attempts"
She probed further, "How long ago was that?"
"The last one was maybe 4 years ago." I answered
before returning the question, "How about you? Have you dated?"
She groaned, "Hmm, my dating history isn't any better
than what happened with that guy from my office. I've met a few guys, but
they've all turned out to be jerks. I tell you, I'm a magnet for them. One guy
that I really liked and went out with for about a month, turned out to be
married. The others weren't that much different than the guy from work, and it
became obvious on the first dates that they were only looking for sex, not a
relationship."
"I'm sorry."
Neither one of us said anything more on the topic and we
moved on to other subjects, but there was an unspoken understanding that we
were both exploring the other person's openness to a relationship.
Friendsgiving.
The week after Thanksgiving, Stefani and I sat on stools at
my kitchen island tapping away on our laptop keyboards while Toni and Lizzie
played upstairs. I was answering emails, and Stefani was filling out what
looked to be a very complicated accounting spreadsheet on her screen.
After an hour or so, Stefani sighed and announced, "I
need a break from these numbers." She extended her arms straight above her
head and arched her back as she stretched. The motion served to thrust her tits
outward, stretching the fabric of her thin button-up blouse and revealing the
intricate texture of a lace bra beneath. It also caused the bottom of the
untucked blouse to rise upward, exposing a flat, toned midriff and cute belly
button.
Having been caught looking, she just smiled knowingly and
asked "How was your Thanksgiving?"
"It was good. Lizzie and I went over to George and
Linda's house for a 'Friendsgiving'. There were about ten people there, plus a
few kids. We stayed for most of the day, then came home and roasted some
marshmallows in the fireplace. How was yours?"
"It was stereotypical," she replied as she
continued in a mock monotonous tone, "We went to my parents' house, ate
dinner, and all the men fell asleep watching football while my mom and sisters
harassed me to find a husband. You know, all the usual things."
I said sarcastically, "Sounds d
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