Understandably, Mom looks just as uncomfortable as I feel.
“We’ve decided”, Dad says, “Until we manage to get everything organized officially, that the best thing to do is for me to move out.”
“Right”, I say, unsure what else will suffice.
“I know it’s going to take some time to adjust to”, Dad continues. “If you have any questions.”
“Are you getting a divorce?” I ask, my eyes going from my father to my mother.
Dad laughs nervously, rubs his hands on his knees and looks at Mom. Halfway through his attempt to respond to me, Mom breaks down into tears.
“It’s one of the things we need to organize”, he finally says.
“Immediately”, Mom says, through falling tears. “It’s one of the things we need to organize immediately.”
“It’s a priority”, Dad says, clearly uncomfortable with the notion. “For us both to move on. All of us.”
“Fifteen years, Doug. Fifteen fucking years”, Mom says, the floodgates opening to let tears spill out over the twisted teatowel she has in her lap.
“And Janice?” I ask. “Do the twins even know?”
Dad looks at Mom before he looks back to me. “They’ve already started the process”, Dad says. “They started it awhile ago but were always going to wait until the boys were settled.”
“I mean about you and Janice.”
The words seem so odd to my ears it’s like we are playing a made up game.
Dad smiles nervously, again darting a look towards Mom who continues to sob incessantly. “Yes”, he nods. “They do now.”
Later, when Dad has packed a large amount of his belongings in boxes and left the house, whether to a hotel, next door with Janice or somewhere else entirely either with or without her, I find Mom out on the patio at the back of the house staring into the middle distance and smoking a cigarette.
Despite being an only child, I’ve never been all that close to my parents, and, perhaps as a result of not having brothers or sisters I’ve always felt independent in their company. That doesn’t mean we can’t talk to each other, and right now, I want to find out exactly what’s going on, because even though the boxes, Dad’s departure and Mom’s tears make it somewhat real, the whole thing still has a sheen about it of complete and total disbelief.
I sit down in the swing chair and let the silence allow me to clarify my thoughts before I begin. I’m about to leap into a series of questions when Mom beats me to it.
“You know, I always wondered about those two”, she says wistfully, almost ironically.
“The looks, the vibe, you know, I’d suspected something was going on for a long time.”
“How long?” I ask, not sure how important it is for me to know, nor how appropriate it is to ask, but sense a necessity in my mother to share it all with me.
“He says three years, but it wouldn’t surprise me if it were longer”, she says.
Three years ago I was buried in books, covered in acne and avoiding my adolescence as much as possible.
“We went away for the summer, you and I, while Dad had to work”, Mom continues. “At least that’s what he always told us. Even then I thought that something was going on, but I never doubted him. I thought it was me. I thought it was just me right up until I knew it wasn’t.”
“You caught him”, I guess.
I watch a tear roll from Mom’s eye and stain her cheek before she rubs it away quickly. A nod answers my question before she fills in the details. “You were at school and I was supposed to be at work. I came home because I felt unwell and caught them at it. Three years of being careful ruined in one fell swoop.”
I don’t know what to say.
“He promised it was just a one off and I believed him”, Mom continues. “A one off? That just shows you how stupid I am.”
“You’re not stupid, Mom”, I say, taking her hand. “You’re not the one who cheated.”
“I did everything, Jenny. I was a good wife, a good mother. I couldn’t give him boys like he always wanted but I did everything else. You know, sometimes I think he saw those twins as his own. Sometimes I think he saw what Brian had and wanted it for himself. Always talking about those boys and how little Brian appreciated them.”
“Why didn’t you tell me before?” I ask.
“Right, and mess up the most important time in your life”, Mom says.
“You could have told me in the summer, after Brian and the boys left, I already had my place”, I say. “You didn’t have to suffer alone.”
Mom squeezes my hand tightly. “It never seemed like the right time to share it”, she says. “And besides which, I thought it might get better. I thought it was over.”
“And now you know it’s not?” I say.
“I can’t do it anymore”, Mom says, “I’m sorry, Jenny, I just can’t do it anymore. Dad wants to move in with her. He wants a divorce and he wants to start his life again with her. That fucking asshole.”
I can’t believe the twists and turns my life has taken in the second part of this year. All of this feels so bizarre to me. I didn’t even know Mom smoked. I knew she used to, but I haven’t seen her with a cigarette since I don’t know when. And as for Dad, I never believed my parents were in love, but I never thought they’d do anything about it either. Out of all of my friends at school, which admittedly was never very many, two or three of the parents were together, and none of those ever seemed like they were all that in love, so with my parents, it just seemed normal. Not in love but together anyway just seemed like the status quo. The idea that my father is a human being with his own set of needs and desires beyond his role as a husband and father never really occurred to me. Why would it? Until this afternoon, I had no idea Dad even had the capacity to conjure up the concept of straying away from home, let alone be an expert in the espionage of covering up the act.
With all of this, I feel like the parents I thought I always knew have been replaced by exact copies with entirely different personalities.
“I’m sorry, Mom”, I say, struggling to think how else to comfort her. “I’m here for you if you need me.”
“Thank you, Jenny”, Mom says. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know what I need right now. I can’t help thinking that if he’d been honest with me from the start, the last three years could have been a hell of a lot happier.”
In the silence that follows, marked by intermittent intervals of Mom’s sobbing, I watch the sky darken and the stars emerge, wondering what the hell we all would have done, had Dad and Janice eloped three years ago. What if Brian and Mom had fallen in love too, the pair of them somehow coming to the realization that they’d chosen the wrong match in the first place. Would Donkey and I have become family? Would we have knocked the wall down between our houses and lived as one big group together?
The notion scares me. The idea that with the revelation about Janice and Dad, Donkey and I become closer, is one that I refuse to even entertain. The what ifs for all of us further down the line is potentially more frightening than never seeing Donkey again. Dad and Janice have been in some kind of relationship together for the best part of three years, perhaps even longer, she’s been organizing a divorce for a considerable amount of time and Mom and Dad seem keen to do the same as quickly as humanly possible, which means that together they could be planning something big, which will clearly have knock on consequences for everyone else involved.
It’s too much of a mind fuck to even begin to commit to thinking about. Dad, Janice, Donkey, myself and our fucked up now intertwined future is going to have to wait until I can get something a little more solid than conjecture.
I’m going to need a bit of time to process this new information before I even begin to think about the consequences. I mean, Mom’s had six months already and look at how this is affecting her now.
“They’re going to get married”, Mom says, out of nowhere. “I know it. They’re going to get married and fuck off together and leave me here
on my own.”
“Mom, lets not get ahead of ourselves”, I say.
“Why do you think he decided to say something today? She’ll have signed the papers”, Mom says. “I know him. She’ll have signed the papers already and be ready to move on. I know he’ll deny it too.”
“I don’t think-”, I begin, but Mom cuts me off.
“And then you’ll find someone you like and move out, and it’ll just be me, sitting here on my own. Like always.”
“Come on, Mom”, I say, trying to cheer her up. “I’ll be here for you. I’m not moving anywhere.”
“No? And what about when the judge tells us to sell the house?” she says.
I hadn’t even thought about it. “I grew up in this house”, I say, as though the concept of never being able to come back to it were so distant it couldn’t possibly ever come true.
“You wait and see. From now on, your father has got much bigger priorities than you and I. You think he gives two shits about us after what he’s done? He cares about Janice and her family more than he cares about us, and mark my words, as soon as he gets that divorce we’ll be shut out.”
“He’s still my Dad”, I say, not at all keen on choosing sides.
“Just you wait and see how much he cares about you”, Mom says, rocking angrily on her chair before lighting up another cigarette and blowing the smoke furiously into the night. “That man will lie and lie as long as it benefits him.”
A long time after I should have already gone to bed, I try to encourage Mom inside, but she won’t join me. I have lectures early in the morning and I’ve organized to meet Marcy for lunch so I can tell her just how much of a fucking skeeve my dad has been so I’m keen to rest, but I don’t feel comfortable leaving Mom alone.
I stay for as long as I can manage, periodically falling asleep, only to be woken from time to time by Mom’s sobs or bitter cursing. Eventually, I have to give up and head inside. At three o’clock in the morning, I notice she’s still out there, ashtray full of cigarette ends, chair rocking gently, eyes still fixed angrily on some imaginary object in the distance, while I expect she works internally on a detailed and multicolored visualization of exactly what she’d like to do to my father.
Chapter Seventeen
Marcy’s less surprised than I expect.
“You don’t think it’s a little weird?” I ask.
“Weird? No”, she says confidently. “People fuck their neighbors all the time. It’s got to be the most common form of adultery. Husband or wife get bored, where else are they going to go to get their thrills but across the road or even next door. It’s not like your Dad’s unattractive, or even all that old. If what you’ve been telling me is true about your parents relationship over the last few months I’m not all that surprised your Dad has been having an affair, especially not with your next door neighbour. What makes it kind of awkward for you is that fact that you’re kind of still head over heels in love with Donkey.”
Marcy licks yogurt off the back of her spoon while I eyeball her suspiciously.
“For how long have you found my dad attractive?” I ask.
“Come on!” Marcy says, “It’s not like I want to bone him.”
“Ewwww”, I say, the thought too horrific to contemplate. “That would be the only thing that would make this even weirder.”
“I promise you”, Marcy says, pulling a mischievous face. “The thought never crossed my mind.”
I don’t want to consider it further.
“Anyway, so Mom’s pretty cut up. She’s talking about divorce. She spent hours last night just crying and rocking away on the porch. I think she might be having a breakdown.”
“I think your Mom’s been having a breakdown for the last eight years.”
“That’s not helping, Marcy”, I say.
“Sorry. Listen, if it helps, both of my parents were way happier after they split up. My stepdad is a douchebag compared to my real dad, but my mom is way happier with him than she ever was before. She may have to get through the break-up, but as soon as she’s through it she’s bound to find someone that’s a much better match.”
“I don’t know”, I say, unconvinced. “I can’t exactly see my Mom on the dating scene. Where do you think I get my lack of ability from?”
“She’ll be happier, believe me”, Marcy says. “She can’t be any worse than right now, can she?”
“I guess not”, I say.
“Welcome to the twenty first century, where couples no longer stay together for life”, Marcy says cynically.
“You don’t believe that, right?” I ask her.
“Come on, Jenny, real love doesn’t exist anymore. Not outside of your stories, no matter how much you want it to. People come together for a while and then end up hating each other before they break up”, she says.
“I guess it’s not going well then”, I ask.
Marcy smiles, lunch finished and a cigarette now between her lips. “It was only a short term thing.”
“That’s what he said or what you said?” I ask suspiciously.
“Why don’t we talk about your love life instead of everyone else’s”, Marcy says, blowing smoke towards me.
“Pass”, I say.
“Come on, Jenny, there’s got to be someone nice in some of your classes.”
“There are plenty of people nice, but, you know-.” I pause before I continue. “It’s not the right time with Mom and Dad and stuff.”
“It’s never the right time for you”, she says. “Don’t tell me you’re going to end the semester still a virgin?”
“Shhh”, I warn, embarrassed someone might hear us, despite clearly being alone in this part of the park.
Marcy shakes her head. “I can’t let that happen.”
“Yeah, well, thankfully you’re not my relationship counsellor”, I say.
“No, I’m your best friend, which means I’m your relationship counsellor and your sexual advisor all in one.”
I ignore her.
“They’re coming back”, I say. “You know that, right?”
“To play football, Jenny. Not to be with you”, Marcy points out.
The thought has never left me. “What if they read my notebook?”
Marcy gives me a disappointing look. “They read it”, she says. “It’s obvious that they did. You would have, right? You find a notebook, you open it to see who it belongs to and suddenly you see your name, Zach and Jack did this, Jack and Zach did that and then all of a sudden Jenny has two cocks inside her at once.”
“That never happened”, I say. “Not even in the book.”
“You need to write another story then”, she jokes.
“No chance”, I say. “Not just so you can get all horny.”
“You know I love the way you make something so beautiful and so dirty all at once”, she says. “That takes real skill.”
“Thank you”, I say sarcastically. “I’ll make sure you’re a beta reader for the next project.”
“Anyway”, Marcy says, “They read it, they probably got off on it, but they didn’t do anything but give you the book back. They could have taken advantage, you know, if they wanted to, but they didn’t. I’m sorry, Jenny, but the sooner you realize that you’ve got to move on, the better, you know, this is kind of unhealthy now.”
“They might have been embarrassed to admit it”, I say. “Or maybe it wasn’t the right moment.”
“Or maybe they’re just not that into you.”
“That’s cold”, I say.
“Alright, maybe they didn’t read it, and they secretly love you and don’t know what to do about it because Zach thinks you like Jack and Jack is so crippled by worry that it’s Zach you like and not him that neither of them want to hurt each other or themselves.”
“I can see how complicated it could be”, I say.
“Then what are you going to do about it?” Marcy asks.
“Nothing”, I say. “What can I do? Nothing.”
“Well you bet
ter either figure out a plan to find out once and for all or get over it and focus on other things because if you don’t you might find something else getting in your way.”
“Something else like how”, I ask.
“Ever wondered what might happen if Janice and your dad decide to tie the knot?” Marcy says.
She knows I’ve already been through every single possible permutations without even needing to answer her. “Well then”, she continues. “I’ve seen you go through a whole gamut of emotions with these boys without doing anything other than write about it in your journal to masturbate to later.”
“Hey”, I say, pretending to be hurt.
“For you to move on”, she says, “you need to take control of your own destiny. Find out if your feelings are reciprocated, because if they’re not, you need a whole new plan to begin to follow.”
“I don’t know, Marcy”, I say, certain she’s right but unhappy to admit it. “If I have an answer once and for all it might not be the one I want to hear.”
“Yeah, but until you do, you’re going to be unable to move on. You want to be a virgin for the rest of your life, or do you want to find out if Donkey want to do to you what you wrote in that book?”
“I obviously want Donkey to do what I wrote”, I say, “but I’m not sure if I’m ready to ask them yet.”
“Then get ready”, Marcy warns, “because you may not get another opportunity.”
“The game”, I say.
“Can you think of a better idea?”
“And what exactly am I supposed to say? Hey guys, long time no see. Did you read my notebook because if not, you should.”
“Just leave the details to me”, Marcy says, confidently. “You just need to create the right atmosphere.”
“Oh, right, gee, why didn’t I think of that”, I say. “Get them up to my room, put on some sexy music and dim the lights.”
“Men need a bit of convincing”, Marcy says. “Even a twin set of alphas. They probably just need to know you want them both and not just one of them.”
“I thought you said they clearly weren’t interested”, I ask.
Donkey Doubled: A Twin Stepbrother Menage Romance Page 10