by J. P. Scott
“I’ve always struggled with just finding someone I was compatible with. I can’t imagine what goes into finding a third person and ensuring we are all happy. We would also need to get a bigger bed.”
I wanted to cuddle some more, but I also knew I needed a rinse to clean up the lube. I rolled towards the edge and stood up. “I’ll get you a wet towel…unless you want to hop in the show with me.”
“I’ve seen that shower, and I’m not sure there is room in there for both of us. I’ll just wait until you are done.”
I disappeared into the bathroom and started the shower. I was relieved that everything had gone so well. My fears of it being painful had not come to fruition. My body was recovering. I would not be ready to repeat for a bit. However, I smiled to myself as I admitted that I indeed wanted to repeat it at some point. What I had told Jonathan was true, I would not want it to be all the time.
And what about his question of finding a third? It would solve a lot of problems if we could both be tops—at least primarily. Certainly, he was joking. Or was he?
Ethan and I had been pretty open to play with other people. Sometimes we brought in a third, sometimes we played on our own with someone else. Neither of us got jealous, but I knew that was not the same for everyone in open relationships. It required understanding and communication. Even at that, there was always the chance that one person would be left out.
I was more than happy to have Jonathan all by myself. If anything, it was the mysterious “G” that I might have to contend with. But would it be easier to have a real person or a memory as a third in the relationship?
Chapter Twenty-Two
After we both had cleaned up and redressed, Jonathan showed me the things he purchased in Payson at the hardware store and explained what tasks on the lists of to do’s each was for. He could tell by my expression as I picked up various items that I did not know my way around construction tools or supplies very well. We looked over the plan to move some guests around. Jonathan pointed to a couple dates that could be problematic if there were any unexpected problems that arose.
“We’ll do the best that we can,” he said. “There’s no way we are going to be able to get everything done this summer. But we are going to get a lot done and Nancy will be pleased.”
“Should I schedule some time for her to come check the progress?”
“It’s maybe a little early. Let me think about it.”
Jonathan put everything back in the bags from the store and began to haul them into the back office. “I’ll put these in my camper tomorrow so they will be out of sight. Mind if I leave them back here?”
“That’ll do. We’ve got enough stuff in here, what’s a few more bags for the night?”
I heard Jonathan set down the bags, the plastic crinkling as he let go of the handles and the contents spread with the lack of tension. “Hey, did you move the boxes around?”
“Oh, I was going to tell you. Yes. The boxes on top were heavy and started to crush the one on the bottom. The whole stack tipped over as the box on the bottom began to crush. I found a smaller box and moved the contents and restacked with the lighter one on top. It did not sound like anything broke.”
“Did you read anything when you moved the stuff to the new box?”
How much should I tell him about what I saw? No one liked an invasion of privacy. But had the brief peek at the last line of a letter cross a line? Had it really told me anything?
“I’ll be honest. I did see the stack of letters and I did see a bit of what was written. They looked like love letters, and I assume they were from the man you mentioned.”
Jonathan nodded and looked at me unsmiling.
“I didn’t read anything else. I did not untie them. I put them in the new box and closed it up. You can check. Everything should be the way you left them.” I pointed to the boxes, ready to defend myself. “I don’t even know the guy’s name, only the initial ‘G’.”
“I guess his insistence that we never write our full names in our letters has kept his identity a secret. I thought it was foolish at the time. I guess, I still do. What does it matter? It was so many years ago.”
“He was important to you. People keep things that help them remember good memories.”
Jonathan shook his head. “Except it’s not a good memory. It hurts. I carry those letters around, but to be honest, it’s been years since I’ve let myself read them. I should toss them out.”
I walked over to him and put my arms around him. The hurt seemed to be big inside of him, a greater hurt than I had imagined it being for him. “Do it when you’re ready, when you’ve let yourself heal from the pain. I’m no expert on how to do that, so I’m not sure what the next steps are. But it does seem like you have not fully processed what this man was to you or what happened between you.”
“You’re right, I haven’t. And it’s a conversation I try to avoid, even with my sponsor or at meetings.”
I rubbed his back with my hand, “I don’t know what happens at your meetings or what experience or knowledge your sponsor would have to help you, but that may be the place to start. You said you got some phone numbers from the group. Did you want to give someone a call?”
“I will. I should probably go down for a meeting.” He looked at his watch. “I don’t think tonight makes sense, but I may finish up work early tomorrow and head down. Maybe I can get one or two people to have dinner and chat.”
“Whatever you need to do, just let me know.”
He took both of his arms and wrapped them around me, pulling me so that we were face to face. “What did I do to deserve you?”
“That’s not how it works. I’m not exactly the greatest guy. But you’ve managed to fill me with the desire to be a great guy. So, know that I’m here for you and will help you with whatever you need.”
We looked at each other and kissed. It was not the passionate kiss of two men lusting, but of two hearts longing to be one. I was falling for this man. Not because of the sex, but because he was showing me who he was inside. We had a long way to go before we truly knew each other, but today was a good start.
“Right now, I need dinner. I’m starving.”
“Me, too.”
We finished putting up the supplies and headed out of the office and down the porch to George’s residence. I started working on dinner and Jonathan made himself comfortable on the couch. I watched him as he watched TV and relaxed. He seemed to be unwinding like on any other night, but I wondered if his mind was focused on the love letters and “G”. I hoped his friends in AA could help, or at least point him in the right direction for help.
When the oven was at temp, I slid the chicken and vegetables in and set the timer. I joined Jonathan on the couch, resting my hand on his leg as we sat next to each other.
Jonathan controlled everything with the remote. The cabin was equipped with satellite television, and there were plenty of channels. He scrolled through the guide, not finding anything that struck his fancy. At times, he must have been speed reading to know what was even on the channels he was moving past. Finally, he handed the remote over to me.
“I don’t think I saw anything that is a must watch. We can put one of George’s old movies in the DVD player, if you want.”
Jonathan shook his head and picked at some loose threads in the fabric of the couch armrest. “I’m sorry. I’m just a little in my head tonight.”
Friends I had known before who were in a program sometimes had things that were triggers for them and drinking. Being too focused on something could overwhelm them. To deal with the emotions that had swelled, they would turn to old habits to cope. These would not necessarily be going right to having a drink. However, it could be the first step to getting them to one.
“Do we need to drive down to Payson tonight? What times are the meetings?”
“No. I think I’m going to be okay.” He looked at his watch. “There should be a meeting getting out in like ten minutes. I’ll text some of the guys and
see if there is anyone that can talk.”
“Good. I think that will help.”
He looked over and smiled at me. “Thanks. I appreciate that you encourage me to go in that direction.”
“I’ve known people who have been sober but never dated. Gee, is that what we’re doing? Are we dating?”
“I feel like we skipped the dating and did the lesbian thing of moving in together right away.”
There was a common joke that lesbians brought a U-Haul to the second date. “Well, with your camper, I guess you are the ultimate lesbian. Point is though, I’ve never been in this situation before. I want to make sure I support you, but I don’t know what I should or should not be doing, or what I can expect.”
He leaned over and kissed me. “You’re right. I haven’t given you a handbook or even really talked about my struggle. To be honest, since I went to treatment, I haven’t been in a relationship at all. I’m kind of new to this as well.”
“Are there…meetings that I should be going to?”
“Actually, there are. I’ll look them up for you. Family and friends of people in recovery need support, too. They will have many of the same questions you have or similar experiences. I hope they will be at a time when you can go.”
“I will make time.”
I got up to check on dinner. Everything seemed to be progressing as planned. I was still worried that Jonathan might be restless and thinking too much about things that might trigger him to want to drink. If TV was not going to provide a distraction, there might be another plan. I walked over to a bookcase in the living room. Most of the shelves were lined with books, but the bottom shelf held various board games.
“What do you say we spend the night like an old married couple? Looks like we have some classics: Scrabble, Monopoly, Battleship, Cribbage, Checkers, several decks of cards...” There were several other boxes of games that I had never heard of before. How long had it been since George and Anna had played these games?
“Do you know how to play Cribbage?”
I looked at the long, skinny board with rows of holes forming a winding pattern. I had definitely seen the game before, but I did not think I had ever played it. “How hard is it?”
Jonathan grabbed his crotch, “That’s for later.”
I stuck out my tongue at him and his crude joke.
“It’s pretty easy to learn. Grab a deck of cards, and I’ll show you.”
We met at the table and Jonathan began to set things up. The board had a compartment on the underside that held pegs that fit into the holes on the face of the board. He took the cards out of the box and removed the jokers. He passed the deck to me, “Shuffle those, if you would.”
I began to shuffle the deck as Jonathan began to explain the game to me and how points were scored based on the cards played. Like most games at first, it all sounded like gibberish. “Let’s do a practice hand and talk some strategy and see how points are scored in real life.”
We began to play the practice round, leaving our cards face up. Jonathan talked about which cards in my hand were better to keep in my hand for points and which ones I should put in the crib. The rules he had said before were starting to make sense. By the time the timer on the stove was going off, we had played a couple rounds and I was starting to see the strategy for the game and had played a few cards in a way that Jonathan was not expecting.
As I served up dinner, Jonathan was running the plays through his head again. I smiled that I had bested him even though I barely knew what I was doing. I had made a decision based solely on gut instinct, and it had panned out.
How many nights had George and Anna spent like this? Competing to beat the other, knowing the other player’s moves, habits, and tells. Who had been the better player? I’m sure George was boastful and brash as they played while Anna quietly waited for the right moment to play the perfect move. Did they ever fight and get mad? Accuse each other of cheating? Then make up?
Would Jonathan and I have the same chance to have a life like that? Happy to be together more than going out or being with friends? Knowing each other so well that we knew each other’s thoughts? Would I be looking for something I needed and Jonathan would know exactly what I needed solely on frantic and frustrated gasps and grunts? I hoped so.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Nancy Carter called and said she had information about the property that she wanted to go over with George and me. I scheduled a time that I knew was typically good for George to receive visitors. She said she would meet me there. I should expect copies of some documents in an email shortly.
I could not tell by her tone if there would be good news or bad news in the discussion. I took care of paperwork in the office and clicked refresh on the email every couple of minutes, waiting for the promised documents. Finally, it popped into my inbox. I read over the analysis and some proposed options of how to move forward. When I finished, I sat back in the seat and let out a big sigh.
I was not sure exactly what I expected Nancy to do. She had certainly put in a lot of research and was grateful that she broke things down into options. First, there was a proposal to sell the property outright. She provided a figure and also her estimate on how long it would take to find a buyer. Other options included selling off portions of the land to potential buyers who may be looking for a residence or vacation home. These options provided pros and cons for certain parcels based on what would be most valuable but also about the overall effect on the value and usefulness of the remaining parcel. The most dramatic was selling all of the cabins except for George’s property, allowing the entire vacation resort turn to residential.
What was the best option? Selling everything provided a lot of cash for George that would set him up for the rest of his life. However, he would no longer live where he wanted and would have to find someplace new. Even if he bought something in the area, would it be the same after a lifetime of running the business? Selling off various parts of the property provided cash, but the amount varied by how much property was sold. Meanwhile, the remaining property would still need to be managed. Selling everything but George’s cabin—or any cabin George wanted—provided George with cash, a place to live, and no business to run—at least when all the parcels sold.
How long would it take to sell individual parcels? The last time I researched real estate, some plots of land and cabins had been on the market for a while. People wanted to build something on their own. Did anyone want a tiny one or two-bedroom cabin with no garage and only slightly modern conveniences?
And what would the impact be on the rest of the Lakeside Estates community? In particular, the restaurant? Would seasonal residents up for the summer be enough to support Jim and Molly’s business? Our renters saw themselves on vacation and liked the option to eat out because they did not want to buy groceries, cook, and clean up. Would the restaurant have to cut staff? If so, what did that mean for Cody?
I stopped myself from going too far down that road. Yes, decisions about George’s business had impacts to the community at large. It would change the rhythm of how things operated. Whether it would improve or degrade was not my call to make. It was pressure enough to have George’s fate on my hands. I could not worry about if anyone else lost their job because of the way all of this played out.
“What are you thinking about, handsome?”
I looked up to see Jonathan leaning in the doorway, covered in dust from using a saw to make repairs to a front porch.
“Same thing as always. George. This place. What to do next. The realtor has sent over some information that I will need to go over with George.” I was not sure how much I should share with Jonathan about the options. Ultimately, it was George’s life and business and he may not want me involving too many people.
“I’m sure whatever you decide will be a good decision. Anything I can do to help?”
“Can you watch the office this afternoon? It looks like you could use a break.”
“I can do that. I’ve do
ne just about all I can do with that porch today. If I give you a list, can you stop and pick up some supplies.”
“Of course, I can. But didn’t you just get stuff?”
“I was not expecting to find so much damage to the supports when I took up the boards. It’s just a few things.”
“Only if you promise some of that dick later.”
Jonathan flashed a smile. “You’ve got a deal.”
“Any groceries if I stop at the store?”
“Um, coffee. Some cereal. And anything you think we should have for dinner. Those pork chops you made the other night were amazing. Probably the favorite thing you’ve made for me.”
“I’m glad you like it. Pork chops, it is. I have a few other recipes that I think you’ll like.” Cooking for Jonathan had become my new favorite thing. I was glad the new things I was making for him were hitting their mark.
He rubbed his stomach, “Are you trying to make me fat?”
“Don’t worry, I think we’ve been burning enough calories that you may need to increase your intake.” We had been taking advantage of every available moment. We messed around in the morning, when he broke for lunch, two or three times in the evening, and if one of was feeling it, sometime in the middle of the night.
I regretted that I had to get on the road and could not pull him in to the bedroom for a romp.
I settled up things in the office, collected all the paperwork, and kissed Jonathan on the cheek. “I’ll be back in a couple hours.”
When I pulled away from the office, I could not help but look back and smile. For months this place had held nothing but overwhelming responsibility and dread about what was coming. As I looked back now, I realized that inside that office was a man that I was growing to love, and that for a while I had stopped thinking about a life other places, but a life here.
I stopped in at the restaurant to grab a coffee for the road. Cody was not behind the bar and I assumed he had the day off. As I dropped some bills on the counter and thanked the waiter who helped me, he popped out of the back.