“Wow. That’s amazing,” I breathed.
Ethan shrugged his shoulders and grinned.
Cade stepped out of the bathroom and grinned as he approached us. A few steps away, he turned his palm upward and widened his eyes, taking every inch of me into his view as he did so.
“May I have this dance?” he asked.
“Certainly,’ I said as I did a makeshift curtsy.
And, as we danced in the entry of the theatre to the classical music which played softly over the sound system, Ethan rolled his eyes. Try as he might to convince me he was, I knew he wasn’t near the heartless biker Cade joked about. Ethan was Ethan, and he was a much deeper person than most people realized, including Cade.
As Cade and I continued to dance, Ethan stood and smiled as he watched us. Together, the two men complimented each other. Although they were two totally different beings, when merged, they formed one perfect half of our relationship.
When we finally stopped dancing, Cade held my left hand in his. I reached for Ethan’s hand, wondering if he’d accept. As he took my hand in his and the three of us walked out into the parking lot, I felt like I had made a transformation from the homeless woman on the bench to who I was dancing in the theatre.
In many respects, I was Cinderella.
And I was living my happily ever after.
CADE
The day was dreary, rainy, rather cool for mid-summer, but otherwise perfect for shopping. I had decided to wear my desert boots, and although I realized fully I didn’t live in the desert, I still found them useful in the flat asphalt terrain commonly found in Kansas. Early on, after seeing them in an issue of GQ Magazine, I decided not only that I needed a pair, but that I needed them immediately. I adored them so much I chose to save them for special occasions, and this certainly was one. I had mixed emotions regarding allowing them to intentionally get wet, but they looked best with my skinny jeans, and I chose to wear my skinny jeans because Ethan was going with.
And Ethan would never allow anyone to taunt me for wearing them.
Rain wore her orange dress, and Ethan wore his Diesel jeans, lace-up biker boots, and a clean white tee shirt. As he wasn’t riding, he left his jacket in the closet.
“Why can’t we do a mixture?”
“We can’t have them touch each other, but I guess we could do two completely separate dishes.”
“Why can’t they touch, that’s idiotic.”
“Because they’re different. One is corn, and one is flour.”
“An enchilada is a fucking enchilada. Whatever. You always use the flour. For once, I want fucking corn.”
“It’s fine Ethan, I’ll do two separate dishes.”
Rain stood silently, her eyes shifting between Ethan and me as we spoke. Her hair was more beautiful than ever with her new cut, color, and highlights. After her session of nails, massage and facial, we went to Sephora and she bought some makeup and got a free lesson on how to properly apply it. Even though she didn’t regularly wear makeup, she chose to today, and I was grateful she did. A clear definition of beauty, she stood and shook her head at Ethan as he shook the package of corn tortillas before me.
Ethan’s reluctance to come in the first place disappointed me, but now that we were in the middle of the store, I wished I had chosen to wear my Sperry’s and khaki’s, and he would have remained at home. As much as I adored Ethan, there were some things he was simply not designed to do. Grocery shopping was obviously one of them.
“You two are fun to watch.”
Ethan tossed the tortillas into the cart, turned away, and began to meander down the aisle. As I pushed the cart a safe distance behind, Rain surveyed the contents. Nervously, I checked our purchases against the list I had prepared. Without even thinking, I reached over and touched Rain’s shoulder. She reached up and smiled as her hand met mine. Ethan glanced over his shoulder, rolled his eyes, and turned away.
“What’s next?”
“Dairy.”
“I want some cereal.”
“Okay, it’s two aisles over, on aisle 6.”
“Captain fucking crunch. I used to eat that shit by the truckload. I miss it. The one with the little balls in it.”
“Crunchberries.”
“Yeah, crunchberries.”
“I want some cereal too, is that okay?”
“Sure, anything you want. It’s why we all came together. We’re a family.”
Ethan chose the largest box of Captain Crunch on display, and Rain, after scouring the aisle on each side, opted for the Special K with Red Berries. Personally, although I enjoyed cereal, I chose not to eat it because it dirtied one more dish than eating a container of yogurt, and eating yogurt over cereal shaved roughly 40 calories a day from my diet. As we turned the corner toward the dairy cooler, an unfamiliar man who appeared to be strung out on drugs recognized Ethan, and stopped in his tracks. Dressed in a vintage 1980’s Adidas zippered track suit, his hair was brown and stringy, his face gaunt, and he was so thin he looked almost ill.
“Ethan? Ethan Hawthorne?”
“Sorry, I don’t…”
“Terry Becks. T-Bone.”
“Oh. Hey, how’s it going? Shit, I didn’t recognize you.”
“Good. Good. So, uhhm, I’m sorry to interrupt, but do you still, you know, do any hacking?”
Ethan shrugged his shoulders as he glanced nervously up and down the aisle.
“No, not so much. I’ve got a gig at a Harley shop, why?”
“Well, I’ve got this guy, or I guess it could be a girl, hell who knows, right? Anyway, this piece of fucking shit - excuse my French - this person hacked in to my computer, got word of a delivery, and intercepted it before it arrived at the final destination. It cost me. Well, yeah. It cost me a lot. I’d like to find out who it was. You know, even their IP address. Anything. I was just telling Brad I wished I knew where you were, because you were so stealth and shit. And bam! Here you are.”
“Yeah, it’s been a while. I’m not messing around anymore, sorry.”
“Seriously? I’d pay you. And if I found them, I’m sure my people would pay you really well.”
“Sorry, can’t help ya. Nice seeing ya, though.”
“Know anyone?”
“Nope. Sorry.”
He stood and stared as Ethan turned and walked away. I glanced down at his Run DMC Superstar sneakers as I passed, wondering as I did if he had them since the 1980’s or if he recently purchased them from Ebay or some other internet auction site, and if so, why? They were the only portion of his attire which was presentable and clean.
“Ethan’s a computer hacker?”
“No, he used to be. Shhhh. We’ll talk later.”
“So, you’re cooking enchiladas tonight? Two pans of those fuckers, right?”
“Yes, I’ll make them tonight.”
“Every time we eat Mexican food, I remember the night I came over for the first time.”
“Me too. And every time I see you eat toast…”
“Don’t even say that word. We’ll have to stop and make out. Even the mention of it makes me a mess.”
“Toast, toast, toast, toast and butter, toast and butter. Buttered toast.”
“Will you two quit dicking around and catch up? Where’s the fucking milk and shit?”
“Big cooler on the right.”
Ethan glanced to the right, obviously recognized the dairy cooler, and began walking briskly toward it. I quickly pushed the cart ahead and alongside Ethan. I feared if I wasn’t close to where he was standing, he’d simply grab a carton of milk and toss it in the cart, damaging the container. As he stepped in front of the cooler, I pushed the cart close to the glass door, almost blocking it.
“Here, I’ll get it.”
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“I’ll get it.”
“Damn, dude. Jesus, fine. Grab the fucking milk.”
I pushed the cart away from the door and picked a carton without any dents in it. After carefully
placing it in the cart, I turned toward Rain and smiled. She smiled in return.
“You wanted a perfect jug of milk, didn’t you?”
“Hey, I asked you a question.”
“Did you say something?”
“I asked if you if you wanted a perfect jug of milk. It’s why you shoved me out of the way and blocked the fucking door, wasn’t it? You didn’t want me grabbing some milk jug that was dicked up and had a fucking dent in it. You wanted to grab the best looking one you could find, you OCD fucker. Right?”
I shrugged my shoulders as I gazed onto the cart, focusing in the general area of the milk carton.
“Whatever, dude. I want some strawberries, then I’m done.”
“I love strawberries.”
I wish I would have thought of strawberries.
For my entire life, my hopes, dreams, and aspirations have been just beyond reach of my consistently indecisive mind. Often wrestling with even simple decisions for all of an eternity, it seemed by the time I realized what it was exactly I yearned for, someone else had beat me to the decision I was all too scared to commit to. A day late and a dollar short, as they say.
I’ve never had the luxury of a multi-functioning or broadly attentive mind. Either my brain or my inability to focus, I’ve never decided which, prevented me from concentrating or even comprehending more than one thing at a time. If someone was talking to me, I heard their voice and focused on the words they were saying.
But not so much of anything else.
If I was busy performing a task, often people complained I wasn’t paying attention when they tried to speak to me. Although I rarely revealed the reason, for me, the answer was simple. My mind was busy performing the task, not listening to idle chatter outside of the realm of my focus.
Rain was beginning to cause me to question this lifelong concern. In her presence, and only when we were alone, I was able to open my mind and see broadly as well as hear, all at the same time. I wondered if it was primarily because I was comfortable around her, and some barrier within my mind was set aside when she was around.
Ethan carefully placed the strawberries into the cart. I gazed down at them for what seemed like an overly long period of time, frustrated that he had come with Rain and I. I was the one who suggested we come together, but as much as I enjoyed Ethan’s company, and as deeply as I wanted everything to work between us all, the frustration continued to build within me. As I thought of what Rain had shared with me about Ethan’s interpretation of the movie we’d seen together, and how much she enjoyed hearing his metaphoric descriptions, I became slightly jealous. I continued to focus on the container of fruit, incapable of doing much else.
I desperately wanted to be the man with the strawberries.
Yet, I stood, staring into the cart, knowing I never would be.
RAIN
My life was quickly becoming a dream come true. Ethan and Cade were as caring and kind with me together as they were apart. Looking beyond what I expected would be the public’s view of my relationship with the two of them, I saw nothing but a bright future ahead. Maybe I was as naïve as Cade had once indicated, but I didn’t think so. If we wanted the relationship to work, it would. All we had to do was want.
And more than anything, I wanted my happily ever after with the two men I so dearly loved.
“So you said you’d tell me about Ethan. What was the deal about him being a computer hacker?” I asked over my shoulder as I finished brushing my teeth.
“Oh, I forgot. Sorry. I was going to tell you the other day. Okay come sit,” Cade said as he patted the cushion on the couch beside him.
Eager to learn more about Ethan, and finding it odd he was once a computer hacker, I skipped over to the couch and sat down beside Cade.
“Okay so I told you he was a mathematical genius, right?” he asked.
I nodded my head, “Yep.”
“Well, to understand computers is to basically understand math. They’re a series of problems, numbers, and stuff like that. Ethan was a natural, I guess. As a kid, before he was a regular genius he was a computer genius. Well, he got in trouble for hacking when he was young, and they basically slapped his hand. And then, when he was a little older, he did it again,” he paused and ran his fingers through his hair, clearing it from his eyes.
“And?” I asked.
He held his hands to his mouth, covered it for a moment, and then as he pulled his hands away he continued, “He got in a lot of trouble. He ended up going to prison for a while. I don’t know all of the details, and it doesn’t really matter, but it’s why he got a late start on college. And that’s where he got the tattoos on his knuckles, and maybe a few others, I don’t know. But he did tell me he got the knuckle tattoos in prison. I’m kind of surprised he didn’t tell you already.”
“Oh wow. I wondered about that. I mean, not a lot, but like the day I met him, I remember wondering about the tattoos on his fingers. Huh, a computer hacker. That’s kind of funny. So, he doesn’t do it anymore?” I asked.
Cade shook his head, “Nope. He doesn’t want to go back to prison. I mean, who would, right?”
“I suppose not. And yeah, I don’t know. Nobody, I’d guess,” I responded.
The thought of Ethan spending time in prison didn’t trouble me; if anything, it intrigued me. In some ways, it made me think that he and I were more alike than I had already thought. Although I’d never been to jail or prison, in some respects I’d been incarcerated for my entire life at home as a little girl. I also felt being homeless would have to be similar to being in prison – you’re stripped of all of your belongings, and left with nothing but time and what little space you have that you can call your own. The more I made comparisons, I realized it didn’t matter if you were in prison or homeless - the space you occupied wasn’t even yours, and long after you were gone someone else would take it over and begin the process again.
I glanced at Cade. There was no sense going on and on about it. I decided I’d give Ethan an opportunity to tell me about it at a later date. As Cade shrugged and grinned, I shook my head.
“You’re cute,” I said.
“Is that good?” he asked as he glanced down toward his lap.
“It’s wonderful,” I responded.
He widened his eyes as he looked up, “Is Ethan cute?”
I shook my head and laughed, “No. Ethan’s, I don’t know. But he’s not cute.”
After a moment’s thought, I continued.
“Ethan’s handsome,” I sighed.
“He’s handsome and I’m cute. Perfect,” Cade complained sarcastically.
“Look. Stop making comparisons. You’re cute, and I love you for it. I love you for all you are. I love Ethan for different reasons, but to be jealous, it’s just…” I hesitated and shook my head.
“Jealousy is a way of telling me you don’t trust me. There’s nothing to be jealous of. I love both of you, and it’s not going to change. I’ll always love you, and I’ll always love him. Okay?”
He inhaled a deep breath, nodded his head once, and exhaled loudly, “Okay.”
As I studied him, he seemed to come into a calm state of being. Maybe what I said sank in. As he began to appear to be daydreaming, I continued to watch him, wondering all the while what he may be thinking.
“I have a question,” he said under his breath.
I slapped my hand against his knee, hoping to bring him back to earth, “Ask away.”
“I want to take you to Denver to meet my mom and aunt. I don’t know if I’m ready to tell them about the entire thing, but I want to tell them about you. Your thoughts?” he asked.
“I’d love to,” I responded excitedly.
Cade grinned as he placed his hand on my thigh.
“I think we should tell Ethan,” I said.
“Oh, by all means. I think we should invite him too. But I don’t want to tell them about all of us. I don’t know, maybe I’ll feel differently when we’re there, but I doubt it,” he said.
The thought of meeting Cade’s mother made me feel as if he was taking things between us to an entirely different level. Maybe he didn’t intend to, but his offer was making me feel much more secure in our relationship.
“What about Ethan’s parents?” I asked, “He never talks about them.”
“Oh, crap. I forgot that part. He doesn’t talk to them. Ever. Like never. He hasn’t since he went to prison, and they don’t even live very far from here. Again, I don’t know all of the complexities of it, but he never talks to them. Not even on Christmas,” he gasped.
Now feeling even more like Ethan and I were cut from the same cloth, I began to wonder what happened between Ethan and his parents. I knew I shouldn’t continue pressing Cade about Ethan’s past, so I didn’t ask any further questions. I decided I would talk with Ethan about it in due time. My focus while I was with Cade needed to be nothing more than Cade and Cade’s needs.
“I’m sorry, I got off track. I’d love to meet your mother and aunt and I think it’s sweet of you to ask. If we’re not going on a weekend, I’ll need to figure out something with Trent,” I said as I laid my hand over his.
“It’s an 8 hour drive, so maybe a Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. I’ll figure out what works for them, and I guess we’ll go from there,” he said.
“Okay, just let me know,” I said as I turned toward him
“Cade?” I asked as I reached up and ran my hand through his hair.
He grinned and responded, “Yes?”
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