This story is going to unfold in a series of chapters. The thrust is a character study of how people develop and maintain, over time, a changing, growing, dynamic relationship. Of course, this is a fictional world where all the main characters are over 21.
I want to thank my beta readers for their time and comments. I welcome your constructive comments and look forward to reading your thoughts. I hope you enjoy going along the paths with Bear and the twins.
Chapter 1 - Voyage of the virgins
My Dad had a small carpentry shop in my old hometown out on the edge of the prairie. He would take on remodeling projects for people in the area and even build a new house. My older brother had been in the Navy and was a SeaBee like Dad was. When he got out, he joined Dad in the shop. Their attitude was the SeaBee motto, "Can do." They did; whatever the customer asked for, they made it happen.
In high school, instead of playing football, I worked alongside my Dad and brother helping out and learning their craft. By the time I graduated from high school, I was a damm good equipment operator, and I could run with the big dogs doing framing work. After high school, I followed the family tradition and went on and became a Seabee. Being in the Navy was an eye-opening experience; what's the old saying? Join the Navy and see the world. I saw places and experienced things I knew I couldn't find at home. I wasn't a small-town boy anymore. This got me to start taking classes that I would use for college when I got out. In my last six months in the Navy, I applied to and was accepted at the state university in their architecture program. Having been in the Seabees and taking classes in the Navy meant completing the program in three years instead of five years.
Being in the Navy gave me a different perspective than many of my fellow students. When I was in the SeaBees, I often asked myself, how can I make this project better? I asked the same question when I looked at a project in class. While many of my fellow students accepted an assignment as is, I looked for improvements I could add. Simply good enough, just wasn't good enough.
During the summers, I worked as an intern for a group of architects in the state capital. This gave me the real-world experience of working on real projects with real architects. In my last semester at school, I had to submit a project to my advisor and two other faculty members for review and comments. The idea was this project would be a capstone for your time at the university. The project I selected was one that I had worked on the previous summer as an intern. In addition to the capstone project, I had two other electives I had to take, then the degree would be mine.
One of the electives was a class on Modern American Styles. On the first day of class, I was settling into a seat in the back of the lecture hall when I felt some girl jab me in my shoulder, demanding that I move over because she couldn't see around me. I pointed out to her that there was an empty seat next to me, and if she wanted to, she could move up and sit next to me. Miss Ginger Mop dropped into the chair next to me. Then tossed her book bag on the floor between us and all but glared at me. At least the next class would be fun, my last PE class - bowling.
Graduating seniors get preferential treatment to take the courses they need to finish up and to be able to walk across the stage and get their degree. So if you are a graduating senior, getting this class was pretty easy; otherwise, forget it. When I got to the bowling alley, I saw Miss Ginger Mop from my previous class. We were told that we had been assigned to a team; each team had four randomly assigned members. And no, there will be no switching teams. As luck would have it, Miss Ginger Mop and I were put on the same team. Well, it seemed as if I had won the fickle finger of fate award. She had a name, Lisa, and intense blue eyes. We both chuckled about the senior draw of classes. This was her last semester before graduating in finance. She had her sights set on a job with one of the leading banks in the state capital as an analyst. I explained that I had a job set up in the capital, too; I'd be working for an architect where I had interned for the last two summers.
I suppose we made a bit an odd-looking pair, with her being maybe a touch over five feet tall while I stood well over six feet tall. After the first couple of weeks, Lisa and I had grown into a very cozy relationship. If I wasn't hanging out around Lisa's dorm, she was in my apartment. Before either one of us realized it, we were both happily involved with each other. One thing about my new girlfriend was she could be a very focused, determined woman. She knew that she wanted to work as an analyst and what the next career steps would be. Knowing that this position would lead her toward her goal as a client manager, she worked every path to get the conditional offer. The offer came in the mail on a Friday afternoon just before the mid-term exams and spring break.
When it came in, we both danced across the ceiling. Locking those intense blue eyes on me, "Bear, I can believe I am saying this. Tomorrow morning I am moving in here with you. It is elementary, my dear man, you are my man, and I am your woman. You complete me in ways I never knew. But with you, I am a complete and a happy woman."