The Thanksgiving Gift Pt 03

For those who have not read Parts 1 & 2, the two main characters are Margaret Jenkins, or Maggie as she is known, and Chris Barton. They have been friends and coworkers for a long time. They are not as young as they once were, and they have taken the leap to become lovers. Their first night together was Christmas Eve and from that night on they slept in the same bed at either his place or hers. They take turns moving back and forth between the two abodes without any particular schedule, and if asked each would quietly admit they are moving toward a consolidation of their lives into one house, but they have not yet admitted that to each other.

Okay, that should be enough background. Now on with the story!

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It's been almost seven months since that first night that Maggie and I shared a bed. That's seven great months of humor, intimacy, and companionship. When you get to be our age, you realize that all three of those shared experiences are equally important. Sure, when you're young it's all about the sex, but with the years there comes a measure of wisdom, and you learn that making your partner laugh or just sitting together to watch a movie or listen to music is also fundamental to building a relationship. That's not to say the sex isn't still important; I'm just saying you learn a few things as the decades pass.

Maggie was in the kitchen preparing dinner and I was in the laundry room loading khakis into the washing machine. With the machine filling, I returned to the kitchen and began to prepare a little salad for our meal.

"Why do I feel like we've done this before?" Maggie was smiling and her smile was infectious.

"Maybe because we do it several nights every week?"

"Or, maybe because this is how it all started. I had a few loads of laundry..."

"You had about ten loads of laundry."

"Okay, smart aleck, I was a little behind in my chores."

"As I remember it..."

"Nobody cares how you remember it. The point is this is how we got started. You invited me over to do my laundry and cooked me a steak dinner."

"Yeah." I know that wasn't a very impressive response, but I was smiling too much to say more.

"Then I played hard to get..."

"The first night." That earned me a glare.

"Let's face it, if I'd waited for you to make a move, we'd still be living in separate homes."

It's not true, but I was playing a very long game. I'd known this woman for a long time including the last two decades of my marriage. That's a lot of inertia to overcome and I wasn't eager to risk a great friendship by moving too fast. Thank God she was!

After dinner, and with my khakis moved to the dryer and a load of shirts running in the washing machine, we took our iced tea out to the porch. That spring we had decided the back deck needed a roof and screens for those warm summer nights when we could feel the breeze blowing and store some heat for those winter nights that seem to come along all too soon.

I think the people who make their living off the tourist industry call it "high summer". Either way, it was growing near and that night was warm. There was just enough breeze to make the porch pleasant, but without it and a tall glass of iced tea I think we'd have retreated to the comfort of the air conditioning. Sitting there, talking quietly and listening to the sound of the breeze passing through the woods behind the house, my mind drifted back to late winter when the house was still buttoned up and the last of the snow was still piled at the top of the driveway.

We were still working at this time and were transitioning to more of a "when we feel like it" work schedule. We were in no hurry to go public with our new relationship. Truth be told, we were still testing it out and we didn't want to fail in front of everyone. Despite that, it wasn't long before our friends and coworkers figured out that we were keeping a big secret, and the secret was getting out. You know how it goes. One coworker noticed us coming and going together. They got suspicious and told someone, and that person told another until before long we were getting those knowing glances and friendly smirks. Bill Daniels finally broke the ice at a group meeting and flat-out asked us what was going on. Maggie handled it with her usual diplomacy by saying, "Hey, we're old, but we're not dead! Get over it." The laughter that followed seemed to express the general acceptance and good wishes of the group, and then a few days later Maggie did mention something about having lunch with the other women where things were discussed with the probative candor that women reserve only for themselves. I guess I passed the review because nothing further was ever said to me, but from that point on all invitations for dinners and parties were addressed to the two of us.

We soon settled into the new normal as effortlessly as we had adopted what we laughingly referred to as the "two household one relationship" lifestyle. Winter turned to spring as it tends to do, and I began to notice that Maggie's clothes were taking up a greater part of the closet than before. At about that same time I noticed an increasing number of my music CDs were accumulating at her place along with a few books. She assigned one of her dresser drawers and a few inches of closet space to me so I could keep a few things at her place, and I considered myself lucky that she would spare me that much of her many drawers and considerable closet space for a pair of pants and a few shirts. I don't say that to complain, and any married man understands what I mean. It doesn't matter whether a woman is sixteen or sixty, she never has quite as many clothes as she feels she needs.

Life was progressing almost effortlessly, so of course something had to happen to disrupt the peace and that something was named Jenny Anderson. Jenny was the youngest daughter of Maggie's youngest sister, and Jenny was Maggie's favorite niece. Now I know we aren't supposed to have favorites, and Maggie would never admit to such a thing, so let's just say that Jenny is Maggie's most equal among all the equal nieces and nephews. Okay, she's her favorite, but don't tell the others. Now that I know her, I understand. Jenny is one of those young women who makes everyone around her feel loved and special. Every relationship is a discovery, and every new experience is the most exciting. She's a delight to be around. She also has about as much tact as her aunt, which is to say not very much.

Jenny was preparing to start her junior year of college where she was majoring in chemical engineering. Yeah, she's both sweet and bright. Some women are just like that. Maggie got the call not long after dinner and announced that Jenny had decided to come for a visit with her favorite aunt. That presented us with a complication. You see, Maggie hadn't told her family about me any more than I had told my family about her. It was one thing to admit to our coworkers that we were sleeping together, and that was embarrassing enough, but telling her sister and niece about us seemed to be more than she was prepared for at this time. To them, Maggie was the elderly aunt who had been married once, divorced, and never knew a man after that. Like I said, we were still testing our new relationship. So it was decided that for the duration of Jenny's visit I was the new boyfriend who lived across town. We would meet, have some meals together, and get to know each other, but Maggie and I would retreat to our own homes at night. That subterfuge lasted exactly three days.

I got the call late that third night. Maggie got to the point right away. "We're busted."

"What happened?" I honestly thought we had it covered.

"The little snoop went into my closet and found your pants. Then she went through my drawers and found your boxers." She was quietly laughing as she said it and it was clear that Jenny was hearing every word.

"How much do you think she knows?"

"Everything." She wasn't even trying to contain her laughter at this point and who knows what nonverbal communication was passing between the two of them at the other end of the call.

"Define everything." I confess I was enjoying the call more than I would have expected, but I was still a bit apprehensive.

Maggie was struggling to speak. "She might have asked if you are circumcised."

"Oh my God! Is that the sort of thing you two talk about?"

"Well, it is now!" I could hear them both laughing by this time.

I wasn't sure what to say in response to something like that. As the laughter at the other end died down, I was asked, "Are you mad?"

They couldn't see my smile. "No. I'm just not sure what to do now."

I could hear the two of them discussing things until Maggie informed me, "We're coming over to your place for breakfast tomorrow." Well that was interesting because I had no idea what I could prepare for these two women knowing I was about to undergo an entirely new level of inspection. So I did what most men would do under the circumstance: I panicked and ran around trying to clean up and make the house at least presentable. It was already too late to run to the food store, so I would need to make do with what was available. Fortunately, I had nearly a dozen eggs on hand because I think that breakfast is good any time of the day or night, and I had some breakfast sausage in the back of the freezer. With a potato, an onion, some bread, and canned tomatoes and peppers, I could make a breakfast casserole that would be sufficient. Needless to say, I always have coffee beans, and I was lucky to have a bottle of orange juice. I was ready.

As I prepared for bed, I planned for the coming day. "I am a grown-ass man! What am I worried about? She's just a college student." Then I thought a little more. "That's what I'm worried about! She's a college student and I'm the man who's sleeping with her aunt. Is there any more judgmental human being on the face of the earth than a twenty-something young woman? Hell no! I'm cooked." I went to bed with a distinct feeling of dread and rose with the sun.

Maggie arrived while I was preparing the casserole and let herself in. "Hey, lover, you awake yet?" I could hear Jenny laughing. This was going to be a long morning.

I reached the stairs just as Maggie and Jenny stepped into the kitchen. I kissed Maggie and got a hug for my troubles. Turning to Jenny, I took a breath and said the only thing I could think of. "So I hear you've been snooping in closets and drawers."

Jenny was laughing too hard to be embarrassed and simply nodded as if this were something she normally does. Little did I know she wasn't finished snooping, yet.

Breakfast was enjoyable, if somewhat uncomfortable. Jenny seemed to take delight in keeping me off balance and was encouraged by her aunt at every turn. It was a clear battle of the sexes, and I was losing.

With breakfast finished and the dishes in the sink, we poured three more cups of coffee as I suggested we adjourn to the back porch.

It seemed so innocent at the time. Without any flourish or hint of duplicity, Jenny simply said, "I'll be right out. I need to go to the little girl's room." That was all she said as she climbed the stairs and headed for the upstairs bathroom. The implication went right over my head.

We were sitting on the back porch sipping our coffee when it occurred to me, "Why didn't she just use the bathroom on the first floor?" That was when I heard the scream and Maggie charged off and up the stairs.

When they returned, both women were laughing and Jenny dropped into her chair. "My aunt has more clothes at your place than she has at her own." She'd been snooping again. Well, it was an exaggeration, but not much of one.

I looked at her with the sternest expression I could muster, which I admit wasn't very stern, and said, "Do you snoop everywhere you go?"

"Yes!" She was giggling, but she also seemed rather proud of herself. She didn't even try to deny it. Thinking about it, I decided that she must be comfortable with me in a "If my aunt likes him, then he must be okay" kind of way. I decided to take it as a compliment.

The rest of the morning passed in much the same way as Jenny asked questions that ranged from slightly embarrassing to downright uncomfortable, and Maggie answered each one with a candor that left me wishing I had something I needed to do and someplace else I needed to be.

When it seemed that the subject had been exhausted, and she had asked every imaginable question short of those that would need a ruler or a stopwatch to answer, she gave me her most serious stare and asked, "So what are your intentions where my aunt is concerned?"

Maggie slowly turned her head toward me and gave me a look that said, "Your future depends on how you answer this question."

I now had two women giving me that look, and I wasn't sure where to take this, so I punted. "I'm hoping for a boy and a girl. Then I've promised Maggie that I'll get a vasectomy." Maggie thought that was a hoot, but her niece seemed unsure.

In time we decided to go into town to walk and shop, which means the women decided where we went, and I followed along. It wasn't until I pulled them both into the same jewelry store where I'd bought Maggie's Christmas present, and we selected an appropriate pair of earrings for Jenny that they stopped yanking my chain and began complimenting me at least a little. I think my stock rose significantly with Jenny that day.

I took the women to dinner that night, which was a very pleasant affair, and that night Jenny took the guest room while her aunt and I settled into what had become our room for the past seven months. I was beginning to think that the worst was over, but I was wrong. The calls started the next day.

Don't ask me when, but Jenny had informed the family that her Aunt Maggie was now sexually active, and my name was being mentioned prominently. Here's the way Maggie's fifty-four-year-old sister expressed it. "So I hear you and your boyfriend are doing the horizontal nasty! I assume you're using protection." She was on speaker at the time and all three women thought it was very funny. I got up and left the room. Maggie got calls from her sister, her brother, two cousins, another niece and her gay nephew which is the one that actually surprised me. Let's just say it was a long day.

The phone calls tapered off over the next two days and I was genuinely sorry to see Jenny leave. As I said before, she really is a delightful young woman when she isn't busting my chops. We waived at the airport as she disappeared past security, and then as we walked toward the car Maggie said, "You've been invited to Cincinnati to meet the family." I was out of the frying pan and into the fire.

It doesn't matter how old you are, when your girlfriend's family invites you to visit, you have a simple choice: either you graciously accept or you change your job, sell your house, and relocate to another town, preferably on the other side of the continent. I was too old to move. So it comes as no surprise to anyone that three weeks later, shortly before the start of the college year, I found myself walking across the Cincinnati airport to be greeted by Jenny, Maggie's sister, and way more of her relatives that I thought were necessary. It seems they could not wait for us to get to the house. Fortunately, it was not the entire family there to greet me because the rest of them were waiting for us at the restaurant that we went to directly from the airport. There were about thirty of them counting her cousins and their kids, and I have always had a lifelong struggle to remember names. To this day I am convinced that the younger ones deliberately kept giving me different names just to confuse me.

Still, it was fun. The family was welcoming and humorous. It didn't take long to realize that Maggie was the product of a loving family with an outrageous, if sometimes twisted, sense of humor. That point was driven home the first evening when we went to the home of one of Maggie's older nephews, a young man who was married with two very young children. When it was time to retire for the night, the nephew looked at me and with a straight face said, "Since you two aren't married, we've made up a bed for you in the basement. I'll be locking the door, and I'll call you when it's time for breakfast."

Frankly, I wasn't as troubled by it as you might think. My first thought was, "Finally! I'll get some peace and quiet."

However, his wife nudged him and said, "He's just kidding. We've made up the guest room for you two."

Still, he wasn't quite finished. He leaned in with a smile and said, "Just try to keep it down. I have to work in the morning."

Maggie is not one to be outdone, so she had a response for her nephew. "Listen here, Buster! I changed your nasty diaper enough times to decide these things for myself. You can wear earplugs if that's what it takes." There was no comeback for that, and I chuckled all the way up the stairs. However, whether it was the nephew's remark or just the situation, there was no sex that night and we quietly went to sleep.

For the next three nights we traveled from one house to another sleeping in a different bed every night. It seems that all the relatives wanted Aunt Maggie and her new boyfriend to spend at least one night at their place. I felt honored, but there continued to be no sex. On the third night I looked at Maggie with my best puppy dog eyes and said, "I promise I will be quiet." I got a kiss for my troubles and was told to go to sleep.

As I spooned Maggie and could sense her slowly drifting off, I whispered in her ear, "You know, when we get home, I'm going to require your undivided attention."

Seemingly without so much as a thought, she took a breath and said, "I'm counting on it. Now go to sleep, you old goat!" Sometimes, that's what passes for loving words of endearment in our relationship.

The trip passed quickly enough and except for the occasional joke at my expense, all of which had some sexual innuendo, I had a delightful time. The truth is I felt welcomed by Maggie's family without judgement or reservation. I suspect much of that was Maggie's doing long before we arrived and no small amount due to the knowledge that she finally had someone looking out for her. Little did they appreciate how much she was also looking out for me.

On several occasions one of Maggie's relatives would pull up their cell phone and I was shown a photograph of my house (or the back porch or the kitchen or the living room or the basement or my bedroom - the list seemed endless) until I finally turned to the culprit responsible and said, "Jenny, were you visiting or casing the joint?" Thankfully, that got me the laugh I was hoping for. What those photographs did was to show Maggie's relatives my bookcase, some of the furniture I've made, and my fish room in the basement so there were always things to talk about. I was actually indebted to Jenny and told her so when we had a quiet moment together.

The end of our trip seemed to come sooner than I expected, and on the flight home Maggie soon had her arm through mine and her head on my shoulder as she was fast asleep. As the miles ticked by, I thought about how this lovely if sometimes outrageous family had opened their hearts to me without judgment and I committed myself to living up to their trust in me. Maggie soon put her condo up for rent and we were living together in my house before Thanksgiving. We spent our second Christmas together exactly one year after the first night we slept together. The following June we were married back in Cincinnati and not a day has gone by that I've regretted my decision.