Did You Win

Janet opened the door. "We've been waiting for you."

I could now clearly see the mystery man with Janet was deaf Jim. Was Jim also involved with Janet? "I want to see them. Both of them. I am not leaving until you take me to them."

"We were wondering when you would ask? They will be at the basketball game tomorrow. You can come with us."

"I'm not leaving until you take me with you."

"You need to sleep. Your bed is next door. Take our keys so you know we can't leave without you. Go get some sleep. We will take you with us. They both will be there."

I crashed that night studying my book. When awakened, it was still on my chest.

We did meet Ross and Jax before hand just outside the arena. I stopped short of them, taking off my coat. I was dressed in my high school cheerleader's uniform. It still fit. Maybe a little tight around my breasts. My nipples were hard from the cold and excitement. I knew I still looked very good. I was hoping Ross would be impressed.

I pulled two pompoms from my large purse along with my book. I put the book down, open on the trunk of the car. I gingerly started moving my pompoms. The first was my right pompom out to my right arm, head height; my left arm down to my right knee. Then my right arm down just past waist height; my left arm straight down mid thigh. Then my right arm down again past waist height and my left arm straight out, shoulder height. I would stop and repeat these movements a number of times, constantly re-checking my book.

Ross came and stood in front of me. "I am?" Those were the first words he had spoken to me in six years. I was shocked at first but then quickly nodded. "I am what?" he repeated.

I looked down at my book and started to put my arms in the 'S' position. He stopped me. "Not everyone here understands flag signals, and with this book, it will take forever. Can you tell us?"

"I am sorry, Ross...."

"Stop, we don't respond to your words. I know how one sided they are. Maybe best to get back to your flag signs."

I sighed and looked down at my book. This would take a very long time to get my points across. Then it hit me. After glancing so Jim could see me as well, {Can you read lips,} I mouthed without making an audible sound.

"We all can but Jax and Kyle need more work. Carry on." Ross stated.

{I am so sorry. I should have told you about what John wanted us to do. I should have discussed this with you before hand,} I got out by just mouthing the words.

"That would have been a start. I still would have not gone along with your plans. But we could have averted some of this mess. Let's get inside and watch the game. We will talk. No, make that, we will communicate afterwards."

{I don't have a ticket!} I mouthed in a panic. Ross just smiled while producing an extra ticket. {Dressed like this?} while pointing at my clothes.

"It's actually perfect. Not the right colors but people will like your, ahem, enthusiasm," he said while looking at my tits. I blushed. He did notice!

So, I watched my first basketball game. I sat on the end. Ross was at my side, then Janet, Kyle, Jax and Jim. There was a large noisy crowd. My group was using sign language and Ross translated for me. These are some advantages when other means of conveyance are hindered. I asked Ross if Jim was connected somehow. He nodded and whispered directly in my ear, "He is Kyle's uncle. His brother and Janet were married. Cancer, seven years ago."

After the game, Ross, Jax and I talked. Well not explicitly. They talked and I mouthed back. This felt weird but at least I was communicating with them.

We thrashed out Jax's education. He was going to finish high school at the same school while living at Janet's house with my ex-husband. He would stay in Kyle's old room. I would see him every second weekend. Then he would go on to Kyle's college. Still in the Kinesiology program.

Apparently Janet and Ross were a thing. Shit, Shit.

Another one of the things we discussed was all the money Ross had paid me over these six years. I knew he had sued John and his old firm for a settlement but I wanted to give Ross back some of his money. Hopefully not another money dance?

{I want to give you back some of your money.}

"I don't need it." And after back and forth dancing, he finally solved it, "Pay it forward."

I mouthed {How?}

"I had a mentor," he said while looking and smiling at Janet, "who helped me message in other ways, when you divorced me. It helped me in a strange way to be better understood. Find someone who is being misunderstood in a marriage or relationship and help them like I was helped."

The next few months

First of all I wanted to improve my non-verbal communication skills. I studied signing and lip reading. Here is a tip I recommend for lip reading. Put your TV on with the sound off. Enter closed captions for the hearing impaired and try to read the lips. After a segment, rewind and read the closed captions. I had to put Velcro strips over the bottom of the screen. After all, I am a cheater. I wouldn't say I became 100% proficient but it was good enough to help me in my job.

My job actually had me become close to many abused men and women. I met Mary and we became friends. She had a verbally abusive husband. She wanted them go to marriage counselling with extra professional help for his anger management issues. I became her mentor and told her a tip in getting her husband on board. Being my first mentoring case, I asked Ross to help me with their surveillance, just in case her husband became violent.

That night

Ross and I crouched underneath Mary's kitchen window and waited. Mary's husband was yelling, "We are not going to counseling!"

"But darling we need it."

"WE ARE NOT GOING!! That's final!"

Ross and I were both wondering if this was going to escalate to the extreme. I grabbed Ross's wrist and blinked, {Wait} in morse code. These are situations where non-verbal communications are preferred.

A dish smashed against the window frame. Ross jumped but I pulled him down and mouthed {Wait}. Another dish smashed against the window frame. Glass from the window sprinkled over us as part of the window had broken.

Ross's eyes were frantic but I held him down and mouthed {Just a few more seconds.} Then we heard, "Mary, what's gotten into you?"

Ross was also shocked. He mouthed, {Mary threw the discuss?} I knew what he meant. I nodded.

"Darling I want, no need for us to get some help!"

Mary's husband said, "You seem serious."

"That was just a start. I am dead serious."

​"Do you know anyone?"

"I have a list of a possible three people. Two men and a woman." I had given Mary an index of specialists recommended by my department. "You can choose."

Ross and I carefully back tracked to my car. "You knew?"

{Yes. Please mouth your response. My lip reading needs work.}

{You knew Mary was going to throw discusses.} Ross was enunciating a pun. Very witty.

{I asked Mary to try this approach to get her husband's attention. She felt this was her last chance to avoid divorce. There are many forms of communication. If banging on a trash can worked for the Houston Astros baseball team, throwing a dish usually gets noticed. I believe our work with Mary and her husband is done. The rest is up to the professionals who will hopefully help them.}

Ross reached out to and pulled me close. Then he leaned in to kiss me.... slowly.

I was already starting to foresee our reconciliation. Ron and I had talked about opening up our relationship. I knew Ross was involved with Janet but maybe there was room for more. I closed my eyes, luxuriating in the expected kiss. Then Ross sent me another message as he shifted his mouth at the last moment and kissed me on the forehead. I suppose the best I could now hope was friends going forward and to be mutually involved in Jax's life. Amazing how much a certain kiss could mean.

Later

We all started to communicate in many different forums. My next text message to Ron, Ross and Jax was {../.-.. ---...-./-.-- ---..-}. I felt this was more meaningful than spoken words.

Jax and Ross replied with a picture of their right hand up with the index finger and middle finger up, the rest closed; then the same two fingers up but the hand reversed. {U 2}

Ron mouthed, {I love you, too.} Ron smooched me and then smirked, {Get your uniform and pom poms out.} I slapped his arm, {You perv,} all in morse code.

{Yes, but I am your perv.}

Six months later

Ron and I got married. Ross and Jax attended. At the ceremony Ross signed what the minister said. The minister stood at the front of the church and said, "I want to introduce to you, Mr. and Mrs. Ron Wood."

My mother in the front row sat with a sly smile. I knew she was thinking of Mick. As it turned out, Journey had opened for The Stones all those years ago.

I have serious 'daddy' issues!

Two Years later

Well my marriage to Ron did not last. People thought it was our open lifestyle that created the downfall. While all the extra sex was wonderful, the other parts weren't. Our personalities were out of line. And he squeezed the toothpaste from the middle.

All kidding aside, the biggest difference was another form of conveyance. It was a simple history of three letters--DNA. Since DNA research was a significant part of my job, it was discovered that Ron was not related to his more famous namesake. For some reason that concerned me.

I knew that Ross was a distant cousin to his celebrated namesake. For Jackson's health concerns, it would be prudent to find out if I was related to that other Ross as well. I wasn't and while relieved for Jax's sake, on another level it also bothered me. Supremely! It became obvious that I had to deal with who my actual father was.

I still had a strong friendship with Mary. Her and her husband were doing well. Her counselor had done a fantastic job in getting her marriage back on track and she recommended her. I spent two years in therapy with her; mostly talking about my lack of a father. She made me comfortable in being in my own skin but since this missing link in my upbringing was stopping me from progressing, I needed more information.

It was logical to confront Mom. I interrogated her. Demanding answers. She always admitted she did not know who my father could be. When I told her that I had done some research and I wasn't related to any famous musicians, she thought for a moment. "Perhaps it is as plain as the nose on your face."

"What does that mean? Do you have an idea who it could be?"

"Maybe. I don't know why I never thought of this before. Wait, I may even have a picture of him. You are sitting on his lap."

"What!! Show me!"

She searched through her photo album collection. Choosing an old one. "Here you are."

I was about six at the time, "It's me sitting on Santa's lap?"

"Let me see if I have another picture of him. There he is. He was my CEO. He gave me a promotion after you were born." Another interesting point was the addition of a day care center to the office around this time. He had definite possibilities.

"You think this could be my dad. You had an affair with him?"

"It was just once. Do you know how hard it is to get a backstage pass for The Stones? He had connections."

"Why do you think he could be my dad?"

"Well I don't want to get your hopes up. He passed away 20 years ago. But look closely."

I studied the photograph closely. After a few minutes, "His eyes look a little like mine, but his nose is definitely not. I don't see what I should be looking for? You think it could be him? Why?"

"Look at his hair. It is cropped short but stylishly trimmed as the handsome executive he was. It is mostly white here but look closer and you can see a hint of the hair color from his youth."

"Red! He was a red head! Couldn't you have told me this earlier. Thirty years earlier!"

"It was just the once and it was weeks before The Stones concert." Then Mom looked down and hesitated, "When I found out I was pregnant, I was convinced it happened at the concert. It was a magical night. It was my only time with Mick."

"Don't you realize that I didn't care if it was Mick, Ron, Ross or even the janitor. I know I married my Ross, thinking he was related to my father. I was desperate for a connection. I didn't even care if it was Santa Claus." I broke down and tears formed. "I just wanted to know who my actual father was or is. Was that too much to ask?"

My Mom came over and gave me a hug. My face brought into her abundant bosom. "I am so sorry baby girl. I wanted you to be independent." After a pause, "I know a daughter of his who lives in our state. Let me see if I can contact her."

"Thanks Mom. I know you were doing things you thought was right. But I need to know. I am not as strong as you. You did not need a man in your life, but I needed a father. I need to know if he was my father."

"I can make some inquiries," Mom said. It seemed this was the first time she had an inkling of my pain.

One day later

After getting her number, I anxiously called up his daughter. How do you start this conversation? Are you my sister? Do you know your father fooled around with my mom?

I gulped then asked, "My mom said there is a possibility that we may be related. In fact there is a chance your dad was my dad, too." She was very nice and acquiesced to my dilemma. She agreed to help. Though living three hours away, I jumped at the opportunity and drove quickly to her house. Driving 20 mph over the limit, my car was racing as fast as my heart. My throat tightened as she put saliva into a sterile jar. My pulse was palpitating as I couriered it and my own specimen away.

It was an agonizing day's wait. I used my department's influence in obtaining a quick result. I nervously opened the envelope. Yes--"he was my father!" I screamed with joy! I won't tell you his name because other than being a successful executive, he wasn't all that famous--but he was my dad! I learned a great deal about him. And I had two half-sisters and a half-brother. I had a whole other family I didn't know about.

In the meantime

I kept going to my therapist but having knowledge of my father and new family, helped immensely. I am also involved in group therapy. My mother actually took me to my first meeting. Mom had left Las Vegas and returned to live closer. She seemed to have toned down her groupie nature or was just getting older. Do you ever get over being a groupie, or, do you just catch a serious STD and die? I would find out later at the meeting how Mom was handling her problems.

The group leader welcomed me and asked me to speak. "Hello. My name is Dora. And I am a sex addict."

"Hello Dora," another new family responded. A family of addicts. No one judged me. This was a safe space. Everyone spoke my language--the language of addiction.

"My bottom line of sex addiction is infidelity--sex outside a marriage or relationship."

One month later

I got a sponsor. He was a likeable old timer. Twenty-six years sober. He said, "I recommend you go celibate for a year."

"Say What?!!"

"You need to withdraw from having sex outside of your relationship."

"But I am not married. I am not even in a relationship. I just hook-up when I have the urge."

"That is why I said you need to be celibate for a year."

"I have not have sex in a week. Do you know how difficult that is?"

He quietly understood, "Of course I know. You are preaching to the choir. The next two months will be the most difficult. That is the white knuckle period. Then slowly it gets a little better."

"What if I meet my dream guy in the next year and he leaves because I won't put out?"

"If he is the 'one', he will understand. You must be honest in the beginning."

"So on my first date, I am suppose to tell him I am a sex addict. That will get him excited alright. But when I tell him I am in recovery and there is no sex for a year, he will run."

"I wouldn't tell him on the first date but you should have a number of dates in mind when you tell him the bad news. How many dates would you have had before you had sex?"

"Truthfully, within the first two hours of the first date."

He laughed. Then paused briefly, "What we say between us must be kept in confidence. Many of us in recovery have some form of mental illness as well. Not everybody, but a large percentage."

"I have not been diagnosed but I believe I have delusional and 'daddy' issues myself." I honestly blurted.

"I suffer from schizophrenia. That is big barrier on a new partner. I tell them on the third date. I tell them of my sex addiction on the fifth date. It does limit new partners for the sixth date but the ones that stick around are good people."

"That is something I will think about. Thank you."

"In the mean time you should work the program."

"I have done the first step. How long did it take you to complete the twelve steps."

"There isn't a formula. You work it at your own speed."

Six months later

I am now on step six. I still have my full time job after all. But oddly I am in a new relationship. An emotional relationship for now. Computer dating made the process easier. There were a few losers in the beginning that were easy to weed out but I did start dating Larry. In a weird way it was refreshing to not to have to worry about sex. Less pressure. We spent the early dates delving into each other's personality. We connected by the phone first. We talked for hours going over everything. Then coffee dates. I had to laugh at myself. Normally I would have been laid by now--ten times over.

Larry did not pressure me but eventually we broke up. I don't think lack of sex was the issue. Just normal drifting apart problems.

Jerry was my next guy. We made it past my self proclaimed one year celibacy and we threw our clothes off in a hurry. But it didn't work out either. He hinted at opening up our relationship. But now that I had one year of sobriety, it was a nonstarter.

I was starting to second guess myself. Then I found out something of what Larry and Jerry had in common--they had both been adopted. Were they having their own 'mommy' issues? My next prerequisite for a boyfriend was he had to know his biological parents--dead or alive.

I am not sure if that was the difference but my next boyfriend was great. James was a breath of fresh air. We had a lot in common. Besides many of the same friends, many of our expectations were also the same. Perhaps the biggest, because of his handicap, was his forgiving of my downsides.

James was deaf Jim. He often said I didn't have any problems. Smart boy.

With my improved lip reading, signing and other forms of communication, it made talking with him easy. How ironic that I had to go through all those hardships, which made me stronger and able to have a relationship with James. Communication on these other levels had me concentrating intently.

His being a good friend of Ross did not affect our relationship. Ross was happy for the both of us. But the biggest surprise was that I had calmed down. I wasn't as bossy. And, I was most surprised that his job as a roofer did not bother me.

And he was a very funny guy. My first Christmas we had together he had a lot of presents neatly wrapped under the tree for me. One bigger box contained a surprise, {A pillow. It's wonderful. Thank you.} (Did you fall for that. The pillow was definitely the wrong color for the living room. But look how calm I am.)

Because of his loss of hearing, his other senses were more pronounced. He saw the slight hesitation in my apparent glee, {It's not for the couch.}

{Not the couch, then where?}

{Upstairs on the bed.}

{Oh, of course it would be perfect there.} (Not)

{I can see you are not totally thrilled,} he said. I am going to have to watch this man. Any flicker of doubt he would pick up with his enhanced eye sight. {The other part of your gift is already there.}