Two Loves

I took Emma to an early lunch at Bertucci's -- a chain of Italian restaurants. Again, we were quiet in the car. My mind was racing, trying to recall every conversation with Emma that might have been overheard. I couldn't very well be angry with Megan -- we'd both done something controversial and debatable.

My mind raced even further at the prospect of telling Eleanor and Sarah. We'd raised them to be open thinkers and to avoid snap judgments. I can remember many times thinking of how I interacted with them, teaching them some lesson, to leave room for this eventuality without knowing it. Not that I wanted to make it easy for myself, but rather that I wanted them to have this option in their lives.

After Emma and I ordered, she turned to me, "Matthew, I love you. I also love Megan. You know that through you I always have loved your children too." She reached over and took my hands in hers, "Now, we have one of many challenges we'll face this year, telling Eleanor and Sarah."

I nodded.

Em went on, "The same principles we thought about with Megan need to apply. We're honest, we answer all questions as best we can, and we accept whatever results. We always said we'd be open and honest about 'us' if and when we were discovered." After a minute she asked, "How do you think they'll take the news -- the news that their father has had a thirty-five year love affair, and that their mother knew about it."

"You have a way of being succinct," I told her with a slight chuckle. I added, "There's one more part to what we want to tell them."

Emma tilted her head in the cute way she always did when she had a question.

I said, "We need to tell them we want to spend the rest of our lives together." I changed our touching so that I embraced Emma's hands in mine. We smiled lovingly at each other.

* * * * *

I called Eleanor and Sarah that afternoon and suggested they come visit their mother and a 'special guest' Saturday. Eleanor said she'd fly up that morning for an overnight, and Sarah pledged her Saturday afternoon to us, promising to pick her sister up at the airport and bring her to the house.

I tried to think of all the possible ways to layout our situation to them. I kept coming back to a rather blunt 'here are the facts' approach, and then letting them ask questions. Em agreed, and later when we explained our plan to Megan she concurred.

Megan actually told me to get lost -- to go to work -- so that she and Emma could have some girl talk. Since Emma didn't look the least bit worried by that invitation, I decided to put in an appearance at work.

When I returned to the house about six o'clock, the two appeared to be the best of friends. Megan, however, did look tired.

I hadn't thought much about where Emma would sleep. With the girls gone, we had plenty of sleeping space. The night nurse usually dozed in a sleeper chair in what had been the dining room, and now served as a sitting room and nurse's station.

Megan pulled me close to her while Emma was out of the room for a minute. She said, "Tonight, I want you two to be together upstairs. I know you'd think you had to be apart, but you belong together -- particularly given this situation, and how long you've been apart because of my illness. It'll make me happy to know there's some love -- physical love -- going on in this house."

"Are you sure? I'd been thinking of the Newton Marriott."

"Don't be silly. I may have upset the entire downstairs of this household, but I don't want to upset the relationships any more than I already have. Now kiss me." I did.

* * * * *

Eleanor and Sarah arrived at the house just before lunch. Emma and I had prepared a luncheon of sorts that we could share with them and Megan as we started our talk.

I introduced Emma to them as a long-time friend and colleague, just to get the ball rolling and while they took off their coats. I explained about the luncheon, an event that was to be followed by their mother's afternoon nap, and they concurred.

We'd moved a couple of the chairs and a larger table into the living room around Megan's hospital bed. We made sandwiches in the kitchen, got our drinks, and carried trays in so we could sit and eat with Megan.

The girls kept a steady stream of questions to Megan about how she was feeling, and if they could do anything to ease her situation. Megan, in return, pestered them for information about their fiancé and new husband, respectively.

Megan eventually winked at me as most of our lunches had disappeared. I noted she'd again barely eaten anything -- a bad sign. She had again, however, applied makeup and used the wig to improve her appearance. I took the wink as a signal that the conversation was about to shift to the main agenda.

Megan said in her best commanding voice, "We asked you here because there are some things we wanted you to know about this family and what it will be like after I'm gone." I reached over and held her hand. Our daughters still reeled slightly as the open talk of death.

I said, "There's some history to this family that you have not known about and that it is now time for you to know and understand." I think the girls wondered what Emma's role in this was; so far, she'd been a friendly but neutral presence, willing to listen and visibly appreciate the more recent stories about what their lives had been like. I had watched with fascination as Emma had studied our two daughters.

I went on, "I met Emma shortly after I met your mother and before we became 'serious' about each other. In fact, I became serious about Emma before your mother, yet it was because of her encouragement that I became engaged to and married her."

I could see the furrowed brow on both daughters as they tried to figure out what I was trying to tell them.

I went on, "What I'm trying to say, is that Emma and I have been an event for thirty-five years. We love each other -- have always loved each other. I have also loved and been devoted to your mother during the same time period."

Eleanor started sputtering, "You ... you ... you mean ... for thirty-five YEARS!" She looked wildly between Megan and Emma and me.

Megan stepped in, "Calm down, El. You should know that I knew about the relationship almost from the beginning. I suppose I could have stopped it, but I didn't. In fact, I preferred the way things worked out, particularly as I got into my career."

Now, Sarah spoke, "You mean you KNEW about Daddy and Emma?" She looked daggers at Emma. Em, to her credit, managed to hold her ground with a sanguine look.

"Yes, and I find she is one of the nicest people I've ever known -- or perhaps I should say, known about. We are telling you because I want you to accept Emma as a friend and a family member."

Eleanor blurted out, "What do you mean as a 'family member'?"

"After I die, I want your father to marry Emma -- or certainly to continue his loving relationship with her. I also want him to have a good relationship with both of you. If you leave this weekend with a negative feelings or a bad impression of Emma or your father, it will hurt your relationship with him and the future of this family."

"This is crazy," Sarah blurted out. "Why didn't you stop him -- tell him ... tell him not to have a mistress." She looked daggers at Emma again.

Megan calmly said, "I knew I always had that option, but I learned early in our relationship that Emma was on my side. She had never met me, but she knew about me, and over time loved me. She taught your father how to seduce me, love me, chase me, romance me, get engaged to me, and ultimately how to marry me. She taught him how to get along through the rough spots in our marriage and even encouraged him to become a father. Why, without her, you two wouldn't be here!"

The sisters looked at each other in disbelief and then studied Emma. Emma smiled slightly at them in a loving gesture, clearly hoping for approval.

"How did you know all this?" Eleanor asked.

Megan continued in her calm tone, "I hired a detective agency. They not only discovered the relationship, they understood and helped interpret its nature for me, including the positive impact it had on me. So, you ask why I didn't stop it? It was to my benefit

not

to stop it." Megan's had slapped the coverlet for emphasis.

Sarah turned to Emma, "And you didn't mind being the other woman -- all these years? You couldn't have a real relationship?"

Emma nodded and explained, "I fell in love with Matthew instantly. For me, it was love at first sight -- he was and always has been my 'real' relationship. Ten seconds after we met, I was cooked. We were both twenty-five, and I've never stopped feeling for him since that day I went to sit at his table at a conference we were both attending. All I ever wanted for him was happiness. I knew that Megan would make him much happier and give him a family -- something that I couldn't face at that time. So, I coached him and encouraged his relationship with her. As things matured, it made me feel so happy too."

Sarah shook her head.

Megan spoke, "If you judge these two relationships or the more complex triad on the basis of a one-night stand or some contemporary and moralistic thinking, you'll miss the most important ingredient to all this -- the glue that held it all together."

"What's that?" Eleanor demanded.

"Love," Megan said softly.

"Love," Emma echoed simultaneously

"Love," I repeated.

Megan looked at the girls and said, "Your Dad and I tried to teach you that love is the most important ingredient you can have in your lives. Money, careers, possessions, and all the other things we seem to value pale by comparison to having love. We were all blessed to have the bond of love between us, albeit under the shadow of a complex relationship and some secrecy."

I said, "Somehow, society teaches us that we should only have romantic love with one person. We've built a whole social infrastructure around it. There have been some good reasons why, but today many of them no longer apply. Why not love two people? Or more?"

Eleanor looked pensive.

Megan said, "You can choose how to view this -- good or bad, moral or immoral, a joy or a sin. Apply your own yardstick to what you've learned; don't use someone else's. Think for yourself."

Sarah said to her mother, "And you want this ... you want Emma in the family?"

"Yes! Most definitely." She paused and added, "In a way, she's been in the family for thirty-five years."

Sarah turned to Emma and said, "And you can accept us -- Eleanor and me? You don't even know us."

Emma smiled and said in a sweet tone, "Oh, I knew about you before you were conceived. I've heard about your every tear, your joys, your toys, your triumphs, ... and your whole life. I know about your boyfriends, your terrible teenage years, your comings of age, your careers, and your personalities. And, yes, I accept you. I've always accepted and loved you -- you're a reflection of your parents, how could I not."

Sarah stood with tears in her eyes and held her arms open to Emma. "Then I guess you're in." Eleanor followed suit, but I noticed she seemed a little more reserved.

I put my arms around all of them while I reached out and held Megan's hand. She smiled at us and said, "Now, we're talking."

Chapter 10

Megan died six weeks later.

We were all at her bedside -- the entire family: Eleanor, Sarah, Craig, and Jake -- Sarah's new fiancé, Emma, and me.

The hospice nurse was there too. We'd been prepared for weeks for this inevitable end. I'd tried to get my head into there being no Megan in my life from the moment she told me six months earlier.

None of my mental preparation or even Em's presence helped me. I sobbed uncontrollably for the entire day, stopping only when I eventually fell asleep exhausted. I'd been up all night, holding Megan's hand. She'd slipped into a coma the evening before, a sign that her body was shutting itself down.

At Megan's request, Emma had made three other trips to visit with her before she got so weak that she couldn't tolerate visitors other than the nurse or me. Em told me that Megan wanted to understand her better, to see how she thought about things, to learn about the life we'd shared on the west coast.

We held a memorial service for Megan at the large gothic Episcopal Church in Wellesley. The service was long and had been planned for months, with Megan's requests for various pieces of music honored in every way. Several hundred relatives and friends attended the service. I broke into tears again during the service and couldn't speak as I had hoped to. Sarah and Eleanor both got their acts together enough to say a few loving words about their mother, and to share some stories about her.

To reduce idle speculation, Emma just blended in with the crowd of visitors. She rightly portrayed herself as a long-term friend of the family at the open house we held later at our home after the service. Eleanor and Sarah had established a level of comfort with her since they'd met her, so the other well-wishers accepted her as well. While I greeted guests and received their sympathy, Em busied herself with the logistics of the event, being sure the food and drink were laid out and replenished as needed, and that no one seemed abandoned. She often came by me, with just a touch or a loving word in my ear or even a replacement when my cup of tea became empty.

Megan's younger sister, Catherine, sought me out about two hours into the gathering after the initial crush of people from the church service had departed. Earlier, I'd noticed she'd greeted Emma with kindness as well as curiosity. As the two of us stood talking slightly apart from those assembled in the living room, she leaned towards my ear and said in a low voice, "Emma is exceptionally nice. I can see why Megan allowed her a franchise in the family all these years."

I looked shocked and Catherine laughed. She said, "Sisters talk, even when we're not together all that often. Megan told me before you got married. She swore me to secrecy like no other secret we'd ever shared. I've never mentioned it to anyone, except now you. My husband Mark doesn't even know."

I replied, "Thank you, but you don't reproach me?" I would have expected Megan's sister to carry anger at the long-secret relationship.

"I would have years ago -- at least for the first ten years you had the relationship with Emma. I mellowed as I got older, and, perhaps, the idea grew on me -- particularly after I saw how you supported Megan, and that there was no animus between you, no substitution. Your wife was never anything but happy about the situation too; for me, that was sufficient reason to not be upset with you. Megan also shared what her investigators found out about Emma's attitude towards her and the family." Catherine studied me and added, "Personally, I would have done it differently; however, it seems to have played out well for the three of you." She laughed lightly, "Even though Emma and you didn't have a clue about how much Megan knew."

I shook my head in disbelief. Catherine gave me a kiss on the cheek and a warm smile. She squeezed my arm, and then left me to attend to one of the elderly relatives that seemed to be struggling with her refreshments.

My brother found me next. I decided to expand the circle of those who knew about Emma and me. I suggested to Bart that the two of us take a short walk. He took the hint well, understanding that there was something to be communicated.

As the two of us strolled down the driveway, Bart asked, "You all right?"

"I'm coping," I replied solemly. "Megan's transition leaves a huge hole in my life, but that's not what I wanted to talk to you about." Bart looked puzzled but helpful.

I went on, "You met Emma?" Bart nodded. "Emma and I have been together for thirty-five years."

The words hung in the air as Bart digested them, running through all the possible implications beyond the obvious. I smiled inwardly thinking that there was only one possible way to interpret what I'd said.

Bart stuttered, "You ... you mean ... you and Emma ... had an affair ... a relationship ... for ... thirty-five years?"

"Yes," I replied flatly. After a moment I added, "Megan knew and unknown to me sanctioned our relationship."

"Whoa!" Bart said. "You mean ... all these years, she knew? Why'd she accept that?"

"Emma and I had a relationship before I became serious about Megan. Emma actually counseled me about my relationship with Megan -- giving me advice and ideas. Megan used an investigator to check me out before we wed; he discovered Emma -- and he also discovered how supportive she was about Megan and me."

"Why'd Emma put up with it -- being the 'other' woman and all? I would have thought she'd have moved on after a couple of years, particularly given your focus on Megan, the family, and all."

I explained, "Em is unique and holds some unconventional viewpoints, particularly about relationships -- our relationship. She loves me in her own way. She also loved Megan, Eleanor and Sarah."

Excitedly, Bart said, "What about your kids? Do they know?"

I nodded. "They found out about six weeks ago. That was when I found out that Megan had known about us all these years. They're accepting of her -- Sarah more than Eleanor, it appears. Megan explained to them how she wanted them to accept Emma. Unusual; very unusual."

We walked a few more paces, and I added, "Catherine, Megan's sister, is the only other person that now knows. Even her husband doesn't know. I'd appreciate it if you'd keep it confidential. Emma and I will continue our relationship, and I don't want our past behavior and decisions to influence how the rest of the family sees her in the future." He nodded his acceptance of my request.

Bart chuckled; "You are a devil. All these years, I thought you were the straightest arrow in the quiver." He shook his head in disbelief. He asked, "Will you two marry?"

I shrugged, still uncertain of whether Emma might want to change her views on the subject. I finally answered, "In a way, we've been married all this time. We committed to each other soon after we met, our commitment just wasn't as exclusive as it is for most people."

"She's from California -- the Bay Area?" Bart asked.

I nodded.

"So all those trips you took out there -- a week a month for thirty two years -- my God, you actually had two wives -- two families. How'd it start?"

"Em and I work in similar areas; we met at a conference years ago -- we were both twenty five. Em tells me she fell in love with me after a few seconds. It took me a couple of days." I looked at Bart; he was still shaking his head in disbelief.

We walked and talked about Emma and me, and most of it was filling in the missing piece of my life for my brother. In the end, I apologized for not including him in my thinking. I explained that Emma was a part of me I just didn't want to share with other people.

We circled the block and came back to the house. As we came back through the front door, several cousins bid their goodbyes and condolences one more time as they left.

I watched Bart make a beeline for Emma. He gave her a generous hug, much to her surprise, and he whispered something in her ear. Emma looked startled, but not unhappy, searching the room for me. When our eyes finally met, she smiled broadly at me. Later, she told me Bart had simply said to her, "My secret sister-in-law. I'm glad."

As the afternoon went on, I noticed that Emma, Eleanor and Sarah disappeared to the sunroom for a few minutes. I left the three of them alone rather than intervene, although I stationed myself in the dining room where I had a view of the three of them sitting in the ell. After about twenty minutes, I watched the three of them hug and then come back to the living room. I raised my eyebrows at Em, but she just winked at me. I accepted that for the time being.