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The truth is there is only one person you can know, beyond all doubts, that you will be with forever— and that is yourself. To some, that may sound lonely. To me, it is reassuring. If I know I will always be my constant companion, I know the relationship I must nurture, above all others, is the one I have with myself. Because that is what I know I can count on. Until now, anyway. Because for the first time in my life, I have others I can count on. It’s a lovely feeling. But it didn’t just happen. I had to take a chance.
But I’m going to enjoy tonight. Tonight, I think, I’ve earned this. A night of love. Yes, this may be a stupid, Hallmark-inspired holiday. Yes, I’m pressured to buy cards, flowers, and chocolates. But also… It’s okay for me to let myself have this night. I am happy. I should not repeat that so often. The lady doth protest too much and all that. But Iamhappy. I have David by my side — and I have more. I have Laura, too. We will have a beautiful evening.
A little while later, she arrives and David walks out to get greet her and help her sit. I know she’s been crying and she keeps looking over her shoulder as if she’s expecting something bad to happen at any moment. Maitre’d comes over to deliver the tiramisu himself. Along with a bottle of white wine that we always order. He looks at me and Laura sitting on one side, looks at David and chuckles a bit. I don’t now if he knows how much trouble the man is in for, but I bet he can guess. He also brings over a special valentine’s day treat for all three of us - a heart shaped strawberry and caviar sushi roll.Okay, that might not have been the best idea. Strawberry sushi? Whose brilliant idea was that? Dipping strawberries in chocolate? Now that is a match made in heaven.
As time passes, Laura starts to perk up, as if the weight of the world has been taken off her. She’s no longer looking around like a prey surrounded by predators. She even starts to giggle - a sure sign that she’s comfortable. In her disguise state, she’s always so austere, a perfect Catholic daughter. We finish our meal, and head out of the restaurant, with still bemused maitre’d bidding us a good night. It’s very nice, the three of us. Just a romantic triad enjoying a romantic outing. She and I hold hands as we walk out of the restaurant, and he keeps guard behind us.
The night is still and dark. David drives us down to Laura’s hotel, where I help her pack her stuff and leave John behind. We then drive back to my place to drop off her stuff, and walk over to David’s house. Whenever we cross someone’s path, I vaguely wonder what other people think. I don’t think about it that much. Everybody is far too absorbed in their own heads and their own love stories. It’s nice to take advantage of the moment.
* * *
February 14, 10:00am
You ever hearsomeone say how hard it is to make someone happy?
“It’s so hard to make teenagers happy. Every teen is different.”
“It’s so hard to know what women want. Every woman is different.”
“It’s sooo–“
Okay, stop. Just, please, stop. Yes, we’re all uniquely and wonderfully different. Some of us prefer caramel to chocolate, some prefer caramel with chocolate jimmies— and there’s simply no way to know unless you ask. But if you have trouble making whomever happy (or rather facilitating their happiness, as nobody can make a person happy but the person in question), well, maybe the problem isn’t them.
Perhaps the bar is super low these days. Nobody expects very much from other people. But you know what makes teenagers happy? Listening to them. Not giving into every demand (that actually doesn’t make them happy in the long run), but allowing them to feel like they have a voice. No, you do not have to promise them the world, but, yes, you do have to keep the promises you make. Uh, you know, listening to them. Did I say that already? Making time for them. Not screaming at them and not hitting them. Making them laugh. Making them feel respected and safe.
We have this idea that special occasions must be marked by diamonds and designer hand bags, but it isn’t true. That doesn’t actually make anyone happy. It only satisfies their cravings, and then the feeling goes away, and they crave something else.
It’s the same for women. Men. Young people. Old people. We all want the same basic happiness.
It’s really not that hard.
February 14, 6:00pm
Tonight, we’re all together, and we’re all happy. Tonight isn’t hard. Tonight is wonderfully simple and easy and…wonderful. And so it goes for the next few nights. During the day, she works. During the evenings, she hosts her event. After each night is over, she returns to our bed.
We’re cozy together, and it’s so nice. I don’t know what I’m doing, I haven’t a clue. But itfeelsnice. Sometimes she and I just sit around, eating popcorn and watching chick flicks. Because why not?
“Do you like this?,” I ask her on the second night. “Yes,” her face lit up and happy, “…this is actually really nice.” “Then come do this with us. Come be withus.I’m not a good girlfriend, I’m not enough on my own. I get…lost in my world. I disappear. But he helps ground me, keeps me connected. I’m a really wonderful girlfriend when I’m with himandyou.”
I can tell she’s thinking about it.
We take her back to the airport, late Sunday evening. She has a work event the next week in LA, some midweek mixer, but she says if she didn’t, she’d stay with us.
“Okay,” she says, in a voice that says she’s made a decision. “Let’s do this.” She looks directly at David. “Anna and I want to be your kittens, together.”Hmmm, that’s a bit harem-y for me. I wanted this to be the three of us as equals, but perhaps if she gives it a chance, she’ll eventually see it that way.
His gaze penetrates us and makes me feel warm and squirm at the same time. I squeeze her hand. “That sounds utterly amazing,” I say to her. He says nothing for a while. You can hear him thinking. “Alright, let’s give it a go. Just know, I’m not taking this lightly, and neither should you,” he finally says.
We share a group hug until a few minutes later we arrive at the airport. We get out, all hug and kiss each other, and then share a three-way kiss. She pulls her suitcase to the moving doorway.
* * *
February 16, 10:00pm
He and I drive back.He places his hand on the inside of my thigh the whole drive, his fingers spreading my legs apart any time I tried to push them together.I couldn’t rub my thighs together even if I wanted. Not that I wanted to.
“Are you sure you want to be owned by me,” he asks? “That’s not a light decision for either of us, and it’s likely something that will keep us together for a very long time.”
“It just feels right when the three of us are together,” I say. “And yes, I love the idea of being yours.”
