HARBOR: Beards & Bondage

by Rebekah Weatherspoon

  “Bitch,” I whisper harshly. “Yes, you did. You loved Josh.”

  “Okay, fine. Whatever. I liked Josh. I mean, I really liked Josh’s dad. He still comments on all of our posts.”

  “He’s a good dude.”

  “But yeah, if this has a chance of being anything, don’t, like, slink around with them on the Cape. Not that you were slinking, but you know. Bring them around. Let us get to know them. Let the girls get to know them. Let us dig around in their social media accounts and quietly judge them behind their backs. Let the woodworking one arm wrestle Silas for our entertainment.”

  “I wouldn’t hate that.”

  “If you guys work, if they fit in your life, then we can worry about you losing your job later. Also, you don’t have to tell your boss that you’re dating both of them. I mean, do you know about the personal lives of everyone in your office?”

  “No,” I admit. “One of our A.D.A.s never tells us what he even had for lunch, let alone what and who he’s doing outside of the office. And Shaw and Vaughn don’t even live together right now.”

  “Psssht. See? Let’s worry about one thing at a time. If you want a real relationship with them, then you have to try in a real way. You’ll sort out the rest. If you just want to sneak around and bang them, sneak around and bang someone closer to home. Like, I wouldn’t go any further than Yonkers. You’re just wasting gas at this point.”

  Okay, so that makes me laugh. “You’re right. But I doubt they want anything to do with me now. I kept waffling, going back and forth. I’m sure they are sick of my shit.”

  “Maybe they like waffles,” she says, nudging my shoulder.

  “Wow. That was fucking terrible. Just, wow.”

  “Whatever. I spend all day with young children. My sense of humor is now catered toward the Sesame Street crowd.”

  “I’m sure they get your best material.”

  “Hey, I love you and I want you to be happy. Maybe it takes two men to make that happen. Big Boobie Brook is a whole lotta woman.”

  “That is true.” I look down at my cleavage and give it a shake.

  “Come on. Let’s finish up this bed and then I have some berry tarts waiting in the kitchen. Then I can break the real tricky news to you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “When you do start something new, I think you should tell Josh’s family.”

  “Ugh, Ebie come on,” I groan, using her childhood nickname. “I know you’re right, but come on.”

  “Brook.”

  “I know.”

  “He was a piece of crap. I will never make excuses for him, but his family really welcomed us. Especially when they found out about Mom and Dad. Those white people were ready to take us Lewis girls in. I don’t think you owe them, owe them, but tell them. Let them know you’ve found love. I think they want you to be happy too.”

  “With two dudes.”

  “Listen, Mr. Delinsky is a fucking hippie. He might be into that shit.”

  “You’re right. I’ll tell them if Vaughn and Shaw take me back. Or take me for real in the first place.”

  “One step at the time,” Liz says with a wink. We finish making the bed and I get into my pajamas before we head back to the kitchen and stuff ourselves with berry tarts and fresh lemonade. Whatever happens down the road, I am grateful for my sister and her baking ass. Spending the weekend with her, Silas and the girls is exactly what I need. It’ll give me time to decide if I want to take the biggest risk of my life and really chase after love.

  Twenty-One

  Shaw

  We stop at a light. First light I’ve seen in this tiny-ass town. I have no idea how the hell Brook’s sister is from the Bronx and is now living way the hell out here. I thought Barnstable was rural.

  I look over at Vaughn and he just smiles and shakes his head.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Look, I might be driving, but I didn’t make this decision by myself. She called and we both jumped at the chance to see her.”

  “I know. I think we’re both pathetic. We didn’t even make it the whole weekend.” Brooklyn called us back Friday afternoon. She was close to tears and extremely apologetic, but she’d managed to keep it together while she spoke. She had more to tell us. She wanted to see us again. She wanted to talk. Just to talk, though. No sex, just talking. After a quick look at the map, we saw it actually made more sense for us to go to her sister’s farm in Ghent, New York, instead of waiting until the following weekend for her to drive all the way out to my place. It was closer and if Vaughn and I weren’t bullshitting, we didn’t want to wait to see her either. If she was in Ghent, that’s where we were going first thing Sunday morning.

  I follow the GPS route through a town center that looks like some shit out of a movie and we keep going, past a rundown gas station and on into this area that looks like it's all farms. Just apple farm after apple farm. Finally, we reach our destination, McInroy Farm.

  We follow Brook’s additional directions and drive past the big apple sign and the cafe, and head a couple hundred yards to a private, unmarked driveway. We continue down the long dirt road and, soon enough, we see a little pond with some trees and a picnic table. We see the big white farmhouse she’d mentioned further down the road, but Brook is sitting on the picnic table in the shade. Waiting for us. There are two dogs sniffing through the grass around her.

  Brook perks up as we get closer. She’s wearing her hair in this long, silky style that goes down her back and a pink sundress that is doing nothing to contain her amazing tits. I try to push down the way I feel about seeing her again. I’ll get excited if this turns out to not be another conversation that leaves me or Vaughn looking like assholes. I park the car in a little clearing and cut the ignition.

  “You ready?” I ask.

  “Yeah.”

  “Let’s get this over with. I can get home to get some FIFA action.”

  “Shut up,” Vaughn laughs. He knows I’m not rushing out of here. We climb out of the car and one of the dogs, a white pit bull, comes rushing over to us. Before I have to dropkick it, though, it stops short and cocks its head before running back to Brook.

  “That’s Morty. He’s harmless. The golden is Dirt.”

  “Who named that dog Dirt?” I ask.

  “My niece, when she was four. Her dad thinks it’s hilarious. So, he’s still Dirt.” She climbs off the picnic table and walks closer to us, but stops herself before she gets too close. “Glad you guys could make it. Welcome to the farm.”

  “It’s nice out here.”

  “Yeah, it takes a little getting used to. It’s kinda like the Cape but no ocean right outside your door. It’s nice to get away up here. But please, step into my office.” She motions toward the picnic table. We all take a seat under the shade of a seven-hundred-year-old tree, Brook across from the two of us. It’s hot out, but not so hot I can’t handle it.

  “So,” Brook folds her hands on the table all formal and shit, then smiles. “Thank you both for joining me today. I know you’re very busy. It means a lot to me that you came all this way.”

  “It is easier for the three of us to talk face to face,” I say.

  “It is. That’s why I asked you to come.”

  Vaughn feels bad. I can tell by the way he reaches out and squeezes Brook’s trembling hands. “Go ahead.”

  She takes a breath and then smiles again. “I have a proposal for the two of you. It can best be summed up by the lyrics to “Baby, Baby” by the incomparable, God-fearing Amy Grant.”

  “I don’t know that song,” I say.

  “He’s lying,” Vaughn says. “I know he knows that song. My mom loves that song and he’s sung that song with her more than once.”

  The smile that touches her lips is more genuine now. “Well, I think the next best thing are my own words. I was thinking about all the conversations we’ve had and how we’ve talked so much about the different ways, well, we want Shaw to fuck us. And that was grea
t. Swell even. Shaw, you’re a good lay,” she says.

  “I’ll add that to my resume.”

  “You should. Vaughn, You’re not too shabby either.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I don’t think it’s really helpful to talk too much about before we met because everything's different now. Things were really different last week. So, considering how I feel now, here’s what I propose. The three of us, if you’ll have me that is. I’d like there to be a three of us, together. I’d like to give that a real try.”

  “Is that all?” I ask.

  I know she wants to punch me, but she’s letting it slide. For now. She nods instead. “Yup, Shaw.” Her eyes narrow. “We all know you have issues.” Her expression softens before she turns to Vaughn. “And Vaughny, I mean, we talked.”

  “Yeah,” he says, like he knows he’s been caught.

  “I was afraid to tell either of you what I really needed because I’m still dealing with some Josh-related hang-ups. I wish those weren’t an issue, but they are. But, that doesn’t change the fact that what I really want, beyond you two giving it to me in both holes, is love and support. I want people to be there for me. A lot of this has been so hard because my sister has her own family now. She’s there for me like always, but seeing her so happy, it made me realize how badly I want that for myself. When I told her about you guys, she also made me realize that if I wasn’t afraid to give it a chance, I might be able to be really happy with you two. And then I thought about it some more and I knew I could be happy with you two.”

  “Excuse us.” I stand and tap Vaughn’s shoulder then nod to the car.

  He rolls his eyes. “We’ll be right back.”

  We walk through the grass to my car and I glance back at Brook as she tries to turn her attention to that dog named Dirt while we sidebar.

  “What do you think?” I ask Vaughn.

  “I think you’re being immature as fuck right now, that’s what I think.”

  “Man, whatever.”

  “Do you want to go?” he asks me. “I know why we’re here. I still feel how I feel about her, but give me some time and I can get over that if you’re not into it.”

  “No. I mean. I’m into. Shit, look at her. How could I not be into it? She makes you smile and she isn’t emotionally stunted like me. Fuck, like Corrine was. Real talk, she’s exactly what we both want and need. Plus we already know what we’re getting into here. We got the same baggage.”

  “Okay, let’s go tell her that.”

  “Wait. Let’s make it look like we have more deliberating to do. She expects us to haggle a bit. Whatever you do in the courtroom.”

  “Man, if you don’t come the hell on” Vaughn nudges me back toward the table.

  “We’re interested in your proposal,” I say when we sit back down. “But I think you should know, I have commitment and abandonment issues that I’m thinking about seeing a therapist for.”

  “That’s great. Not the issues, but that you’ve identified the issues and want to work on them.”

  “I think so. Vaughn and I have talked about it and it might help me be less of a dick if I know I’m working toward something stable. So, something secure, like maybe the all together-type situation you mentioned. That might could work for me.”

  She playfully rolls her eyes and turns to Vaughn. “And what about you?”

  He clears his throat and I know what’s coming. She’s giving him the green light to feel his feelings. He’s about to feel those big-ass feelings and I, for one, am happy for him. I know he opens up to me, but I know Brook makes it easier.

  “I’ve been half in love with you for weeks already. I think you might be onto something. I was scared to put a name to what I want, because I wanted something more and I didn’t think we could have more after—you know.”

  “Yeah,” she smiles, tears welling in her eyes.

  “We have a lot of details to work out, but I would like to give a try.”

  “Shaw?” she asks.

  “Fuck it. Let’s do it.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. I was hoping to find a nice couple to adopt me, but I think this will work.”

  “Jesus,” she laughs. “Well, since you’re here, I would really like you to meet my sister.”

  “Now?” Vaughn asks.

  “Yeah. If that’s okay.”

  My first instinct is to say hell no. I remember the last time I met a mother. How Mrs. Johnson was this close to calling the cops on us. But I also remember what it was like to meet Lynetta and how she’s welcomed me into her home every day since I met her son. Maybe Brook’s sister is more like Lynetta.

  “Sure, let’s do it.” We pile back in my car and drive what would have been a long-ass walk to that farmhouse off in the distance. When we get out, more dogs come out to greet us. The barking works as a perfect alarm. We don’t get to the porch steps before a tall Black woman I can only assume is Brook’s sister steps out on the porch. She smiles this big-ass grin and shades her eyes from the sun.

  “Hey. It’s hot as fuck out here. Come on in.” We follow her in, past a TV room cluttered with kids’ toys, back to a nice, remodeled kitchen. A swole-ass looking Brown dude with long hair and a McInroy’s Farm t-shirt stands from the kitchen table and nods at us.

  “Hello,” he says.

  “Vaughn, Shaw, this is my sister, Liz, and her husband, Silas.”

  We all shake hands and then take Liz’s offer to have a seat. “Can I get you guys something to drink?”

  “Here. Let me help with that.” Her husband’s a little tense in this strange way, but that doesn’t stop him from grabbing the glasses that are already out on the counter.

  “We have plenty to eat too, if you guys are hungry. I’ve been baking all morning.”

  We both take some of the homemade blueberry lemonade Liz offers and I help myself to two of the huge cookies that she sets down on a platter in the middle of the table. We sit and we talk. Liz is nice. And funny, like Brook. They look a lot alike, but Liz is taller. Still thick as hell, but like a stretched-out version of Brook and she wears her hair natural. She’s warm and welcoming. Silas doesn’t seem to have much to say, but some of the tension melts off of him after a while and it seems like he’s just quiet. Still, it’s clear he cares about Brook and he wants to get to know us too.

  An hour later, as the conversation is still going, I glance over at Vaughn. He doesn’t look back at me, but his arm comes around the back of my chair and he squeezes my shoulder. I look back at Brook and she winks at me. I don’t know what to call this thing I’m feeling when I look at the two of them, but yeah, I think this thing with the three of us might work.

  Epilogue

  Sixteen Months Later

  Brooklyn

  “You okay?” I ask Shaw. He’s fidgeting beside me. Liz’s yard behind us is already filled with guests milling about, grabbing drinks and sampling tiny berry desserts before everything gets started. We’d wanted to keep things somewhat lowkey, since our commitment unfortunately won't be recognized by any governing body. To our surprise, almost everyone we’ve invited has RSVP’d yes, plus one, plus two or three. They’re all here.

  I turn to face him and place my hands on his chest, over the lapels of his suit. We’d had conversations about tuxedos, but he and Vaughn settled on grey and navy suits, respectively. There were jokes about how I should be wearing a medium to dark beige, after all the freaky shit we’ve spent the last year doing, but I couldn’t be happier with the shade of white trailing behind me. This wedding dress suits me better than the one I had hanging in my closet all those months ago. I’m so happy to wear this one.

  “Yeah, I’m good,” Shaw says.

  “Not getting cold feet on me, are you?”

  He looks at me and smooths the lace cap of my sleeve down my shoulder. “Girl, if I had cold feet, I’d be halfway to Vegas by now. I’m here. Someone else is coming.”

  I turn around and see a red sedan driving up the road to Liz
and Silas’s house. We’re waiting on a few more people, but most of my side of the guest list are here, including George and Kelsey Delinksy. It took some time, but when we decided to make things as official as possible, I reached out to Josh’s family. Josh’s mom Pattie couldn’t get onboard and neither could his sister, Meredith, but Mr. Delinsky called me a week later and we talked. We talked for a long time. He’s still broken up over his son. He’ll never get over that, but he’s happy for me and he wanted to meet my guys.

  And when he’d offered to stand in for my own Dad if things were to ever get serious with the boys, I thought about the real power of love and of family and how big of a thing it is to make the choice to show up for people. I glance over and he’s still talking Shep’s face off. Poor man came down from the California mountains to be at Claudia’s side and support me. And now he’s listening to Mr. Delinksy talk about what he’d do to see Steely Dan live one more time.

  The sight of Vaughn running down the front steps grabs my attention. He excuses himself as he eases around my sister, who’s standing by the porch with my nieces, talking to Claudia and Rayna. Noa’s over by the tire swing chatting it up with one of Vaughn’s associates from his firm. Vaughn fixes his tie and smooths down the front of his shirt as he takes his long stride across the yard back to us. He takes my hand again as he squeezes Shaw’s shoulder.

  I admire Vaughn’s restraint. He’d waited six months before he asked me to move in with him. It was hard for me to leave the borough of my heart, but moving to Boston made the most sense. Shaw was keeping his place on the Cape and it was too far for either of us to drive every weekend. After some soul searching, and then some job searching because the Boston D.A. and I don’t see eye to eye on literally anything, I find a consulting gig that pays more and makes me much happier. Vaughn and I found a new apartment, a fresh start for us to share in the Back Bay. The therapist I finally start talking to thinks I’m making very healthy progress.