Only You (A MFM Ménage Romance)

by Vivian Ward

  Penny helps me get him into his wheelchair, and we take him to eat. The three of us make small talk, and I explain to dad that Lucas and I will be on the road for a while so I might not make it back for a few weeks. I hate breaking the news to him, but I also don’t want him thinking that I abandoned him.

  “And as soon as we get back, I’ll come visit you just like I always do. Okay?”

  His eyes look sad. I know it breaks his heart to be here because it breaks mine, too. When I think about my dad, I still picture him young and strong; invincible. Seeing him weak and fragile is something I never thought would happen, and I know he hates being like this.

  Turning his head, he stares outside. “Y-y-yeah,” he replies.

  We sit in silence for a few minutes until Penny chimes in. “Maybe I could come by and visit while you’re away.” She turns to my dad, “Would you like if I stopped by to see you, Bill?”

  Dad nods his head in approval, making us grin. “Then it’s settled,” she says. “I’ll stop by and see you when I can. Is there anything you like to do? Play cards? Puzzles? Anything?”

  I want to stop her from saying anymore because dad gets so frustrated that he can’t use his good arm, but his smile stops me dead in my tracks.

  “Y-yes,” he says. “P-p-puzzle.”

  “Great! I’ll bring a puzzle and some glue. We’ll do one together, okay?”

  From that moment on until the time we leave, my dad never stopped smiling. When we get out to the parking lot, I stop Penny and ask her why she offered those things to my dad.

  “It’s good for him,” she says. “Mental stimulation is good for everyone, but especially someone in his condition.”

  “Why?” I ask.

  “He clearly displays signs of Alzheimer’s, and I’d imagine he may have a bit of dementia. Cognitive brain function is imperative to combat mental illnesses like his. It can help slow the progression of the disease.”

  Stunned, I don’t know what to say. I never told her about his conditions.

  “How did you know he has Alzheimer’s and dementia? I never told you that.”

  “It’s common for patients like him,” she says matter-of-factly.

  “And you don’t mind spending your time in the nursing home with him? You don’t have to do that,” I say.

  “Not at all, Mason. I’ll gladly visit your father. He seemed so happy when you showed up with me, and I could tell that it upset him to think nobody would visit for weeks.”

  We get in my car and pull onto the main road.

  “You’ve never told me much about your parents, Penny. Where are they? What are they like?”

  Glancing over at her, I can tell that I’ve struck a nerve with her and begin to wonder if I should’ve kept my questions to myself.

  Chapter Eleven

  Penny

  I hate when people ask about my parents. Sure, it’s common for a lot of people to come from a broken home, but my home was never broken. For something to be broken, it needed to be whole at some point, which is far from what you’d call my family.

  Typically, I try to avoid the topic at all costs, but it always comes up sooner or later.

  “My mom and I are somewhat close,” I say. “She’s not the cookie-baking, Christmas-decorating kind of mom, but she’s always tried her best. We don’t always see eye to eye, and we tend to have disagreements, but I guess that’s normal for most people with their parents.”

  He studies me before carefully asking, “And what about your dad?”

  Sighing, this is the part that I most often hate talking about. I shake my head, “There’s not much to tell. I never really knew him. From what I do know about him from my mom, it’s best that he wasn’t part of my life.”

  “Wow,” he says in disbelief. “I can’t imagine my dad not being in my life. He taught me so much and means the world to me.”

  I can tell how much his dad means to him by the way the two of them interact with each other. It’s obvious they’ve always had a very close bond. Unlike him, I decline the opportunity to ask about the rest of his family. Sometimes, things are best left unsaid.

  His dad seemed genuinely happy to meet me. I feel bad that his dad’s in a place like that and wish there was something that I could do to improve the situation, but I probably shouldn’t get in too deep. We are just ‘friends’ after all, and maybe it’s enough that I’ve offered to visit him occasionally while Mason is out of town. In fact, I may be overstepping my boundaries as a ‘friend,’ but his dad seemed to love the idea.

  I have another burning question that I’m dying to ask Mason, but I’m afraid to know the answer. The night that I met the two of them, they said that they share everything—which I know firsthand—but how do they do relationships? Or maybe they don’t do them at all? Maybe that’s why they’re both single, but Mason’s been growing on me pretty fast and I’d like to be more than ‘friends.'

  My fear is that he’ll say it’s part of their unspoken guy code that neither of them can stake claim to me since I was shared by the two of them. I guess it could be kind of awkward to date Mason knowing that I slept with him and his best friend.

  I guess I’m more like my mom than I realize. During my entire life, she played partner roulette; she always brought home different men. The ones who stuck around for a while were never the good guys. Honestly, I don’t think she ever dated any good ones. My whole life, I’ve struggled to find out what it takes to make a relationship work, which is why I settled for Owen.

  For some reason, I assumed boring equaled good, but it gets old fast. Like my mom, I’ve always lived life in the fast lane, so I could only handle so much watching TV all the time or sitting around doing nothing, which was Owen’s idea of how to spend weekends.

  “That’s really great that you and your dad were so close. I can see how much he means to you.”

  He swings by my place to drop me off before heading home to get his things packed. It sucks that he’s going to be gone for a while, but I know he’ll be back.

  “You can call me anytime,” he says. “I really appreciate you stopping by to check on my dad while we’re gone and hanging out with him.”

  I smile at him. “It’s no problem. Have fun working and be careful driving.”

  “Hey,” he says, grabbing my arm as I try to open the door. “Can’t forget this.”

  Leaning over into my seat, he kisses me. Not a deep, passionate, romantic kiss. Just a regular kiss, a sweet one, on the lips.

  My smile turns into a full-blown clown smile that I can’t wipe off of my face. “Thanks,” I say. “I’ll call you.”

  Over the course of the past couple of weeks, I’ve stopped by the nursing home to see his dad a few times. Each time was so nice. He was so happy to see me. His eyes would light up, his smile would soften, and his spirit wasn’t so….broken. I can see why Mason visits him as often as he can. It really does make a difference in his dad’s demeanor.

  The first day that I went, we watched a little TV, and I took him some fast food. He ate it, but I could tell that he was bored with his food. After a while, we played a game of checkers, which I let him win, and then I went home.

  Last night when I went to visit him, I took him something that Mason could never give him: a home-cooked meal. Before my classes started in the morning, I pulled out my crockpot—which I rarely use because I eat alone most nights—and put on a roast with potatoes and carrots. Before I went to see him, I stopped by my apartment and made us each a plate.

  He was flabbergasted to see his meal when I took it to him. I’ve genuinely never seen a man smile so much and be so appreciative. He chowed down and didn’t stop until it was all gone. After we finished eating together, I broke out a puzzle. It was nothing special, just an image of a cabin in the woods with fishing poles sitting at the edge of a nearby lake. He had a little trouble putting it together, but we finished most of it before I left. I promised him that we could finish it at my next visit and I’d bring some puzzle glue so
we could hang it up.

  I’d go see him again tonight to finish up the puzzle, but I have a lot of studying to do and notes to catch up on. Just as I’m sitting down with my giant cup of Joe, my phone starts vibrating on my desk. It’s Mason.

  “Hey, you!” I answer. “How’s work been?”

  “Good. How’s school been?”

  “Meh, it’s school. Professors lecturing, scribbling down notes at lightning speed, studying my ass off, all that jazz.”

  “I got your text last night about dad. I was going to call you, but by the time we got in, I was exhausted and ended up crashing early.”

  I laugh at the thought of him being so tired that he crashed because he seems so full of energy. “That’s okay. What have you guys been up to all week anyway? Besides working?”

  I can hear him getting inside their work truck as he slams the door and I hear the dinging of the key in the ignition.

  “Working, drinking, and crashing, that’s about it. There’s not much else to do on the road,” he says.

  I’m tempted to ask him if they’ve picked up any new ladies while they’ve been out since that’s how we met, but I’m afraid to know the answer, so I don’t ask. I really like Mason. Like a lot. I like Lucas, too, but I feel this special connection with Mason. It could be because we’ve spent more alone time together.

  “I miss you,” I say. The words slip out of my mouth before I can stop them. I’m not entirely sure what made me mention it in the first place.

  “You do? That’s a first. I don’t think I’ve ever had a girl miss me.”

  “Well, I do. Where are you guys headed now?” I ask.

  “Lucas and I are headed out for a drink before we call it a night.”

  “Hi Penny,” I hear Lucas yell in the background.

  Hearing his voice makes me smile. “Tell Lucas I said hi.”

  I can hear him relay my message and then Lucas says, “What? You don’t miss me? Penny, I’m hurt. I thought we had a thing.”

  Giggling, I say, “Yes, I miss him, too.”

  “What are your plans for the weekend?” Mason asks.

  I think about it for a moment because I hadn’t thought about the weekend at all. My mind has been so focused on my studies that I’ve practically buried myself in notes and books.

  “I’m not sure. I’ll probably hang out around my apartment, do some studying, and some reading.”

  He laughs, “You and your books.”

  “I know. I’ll probably go see your dad, too. We have a puzzle to finish, and I’m sure he’s eager to get it done.”

  “Hey, listen. We’re at the bar, and it’s pretty loud in there. I’ll talk to you later?”

  “Okay, sounds good. Have fun, but not too much fun.”

  “Sweet dreams, babe,” he says, ending the call.

  My heart flutters a little. He’s never called me babe. Smiling, I slip on my headphones and crack open my book. I have trouble concentrating on my studies because all I can think about is him calling me babe. He shouldn’t have this kind of effect on me, but he does. I also slightly wonder what Lucas thinks of him calling me babe. It’s such an odd arrangement the two of them have.

  Chapter Twelve

  Mason

  The last few weeks have been pure hell. This job has really taken its toll on me, and I’m ready to get back home so I can relax and visit my dad.

  I’m grateful that Penny’s doing all that she has. It’s nice to know that my dad’s been enjoying her company. She gives me updates every time she goes to see him, and it makes being on the road a little less bad.

  We are going home tonight after we finish our job and I can’t wait. It’s only a couple hour drive, but as soon as we get back, I’m taking a shower, starting a load of laundry, and kicking back to catch up on some of my favorite shows.

  Penny sent me a message earlier when she was at lunch, but I’ve been too busy to respond. I find it a little odd that Lucas never mentions whether or not she texts or calls him. He’s never brought it up, so maybe she does, but I get the feeling that she doesn’t, and I’m not sure why.

  “We can get on the road in about 10 minutes,” Lucas says to me as he finishes up some last minute things. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get out of these stiff, nasty things.”

  He pinches the front of his shirt and holds it out. My shirt is just as sweaty as his, so I know exactly how he feels. I’m glad that we packed up our hotel room this morning because I’d hate to have to go do it now. I’d probably sleep here another night before making the drive if it meant a shower and clean clothes, but we’re pros at this and always do it the last morning of the job.

  Lucas climbs into the driver's seat and buckles up before looking over at me. I have my phone in my hand, texting Penny. He smiles and nods.

  “Is that our sweet little honey?” he asks.

  “Penny?” I shake my head. “Yeah, I’m letting her know that we’re on our way back, that away, she doesn’t think she has to keep going to see my dad because we can go visit him tomorrow.” He looks genuinely surprised as the corners of his mouth turn down. “What?” I ask.

  “She visits your dad? Why does she do that?”

  “I thought I told you,” I say. “I don’t know why she does it.”

  “There has to be some reason, Mason. What’d she say?” he presses.

  Rubbing my temples as he gets on the highway, I sigh. “I don’t know. I know that her dad was never around, so maybe it makes her feel good to be around a dad who gave a shit.”

  “Well, hell,” he laughs, slapping the steering wheel. “If she’s got daddy issues, I can help cure those.”

  While Lucas might be laughing, he’s dead serious. He’s into playing those daddy/dom roles, it’s one of his favorite things to do. Most of the girls we’ve met have them so it wouldn’t surprise me if Penny fits into that category. She was awfully tight-lipped about her family, especially when it came to her dad.

  “Yeah, we know how that goes,” I say. “The thing is, most of these girls who have daddy issues aren’t as independent and secure as she is, and it kind of has me stumped about her. She’s definitely different.”

  “Different? How?” he asks, weaving in and out of traffic, so we get home faster.

  “It’s hard to put my finger on it. She doesn’t act like the others.”

  “Maybe. I haven’t spent much time with her, not like you have,” Lucas says. “What’s she like anyway?”

  It dawns on me that we haven’t talked much about her since we left home, which is surprising. Usually, the two of us discuss how long we think a girl will last or whether or not she’s into us. Penny’s definitely into us. If she wasn’t, why would she stick around?

  “She’s cool. I think what makes her different is that she’s smart, like really smart, and she has a personality.”

  Lucas laughs. He knows exactly what I’m referring to when I talk about her personality. “You mean she’s not a complete airhead,” he says. It’s a statement, not a question. “Those types are nice. So why do you think she’s into us if she’s so different from the other girls? I mean, if she’s as smart as you say she is and has this great personality, why isn’t she taken?”

  I’ve been wondering the exact same thing myself. Penny’s a good catch—for any guy. She’s gorgeous, has a great body, a nice sense of style, and is intelligent. While we were at her apartment, I couldn’t figure out why a girl like her would even consider guys like Lucas and me. Indeed, there have to be some good looking college grads that she could hook up with, get a nice ride and have a comfortable life.

  Lucas and I bust our asses for the cash we make—which is excellent money—but we’re not into psychology, science, and all that other stuff people go to college for; we’re the opposite. We work in stiff jeans, sweaty shirts, and dirty boots—all of which I can’t wait to get out of the minute we get home.

  The more I think about it, Penny could land a guy who wears a suit and tie with Armani d
ress shoes. What is she doing with us?

  “I’m not sure why she isn’t with someone. You know, at first, I thought she was in a relationship or something. Maybe she was just cheating on her boyfriend or whatever, but when I was at her apartment, I knew that wasn’t the case. There were plenty of pictures and lots of stylish designs, but it seemed….empty.”

  “Wait? You were in her apartment? When did you go there? What was it like?”

  I know I mentioned this to him, didn’t I? How could I not have told him about going to her place?

  “I thought I told you?”

  He shakes his head, “Nope. This is the first time I’m hearing about it.”

  “It’s just an apartment with pictures here and there, lots and lots of books, a whole array of CDs and DVDs. We had to swing by her place before we went to see my dad. That’s how she got into the whole visiting my dad thing.”

  “Oh! I remember now,” he says. “It was when I brought Mandy home. She stayed over, and you two were gone before Mandy and I got out of bed. Did you bang her?”

  His question makes me laugh. When have I not banged a hot girl in my bed?

  “You could say that,” we bump fists. “I can’t believe we haven’t talked about any of this.”

  “Dude, we’ve been working our asses off. There hasn’t been time to talk.”

  He’s not wrong. Work has been chaotic, and by the time we get off, we’re too tired to talk so we just head to the bar, kick back with a couple of cold beers, order whatever shitty bar food they’re serving up, and then go back to the hotel. This might be one of the first trips in a long time where we didn’t score any chicks, and my body can tell. I hope Penny comes over as soon as we get back. Well, not as soon as we get there, but after I’ve had a chance to wash the film off my skin and put something clean on.

  “Where’d you find that Mandy girl?” I ask.

  He shrugs his shoulders. “She was at some after-party that I went to and was pretty lit. We hung out for a while, and she was all over me, so I brought her home, but she’s kind of crazy.”