Emma and Jeff

Nora was standing in the hallway. She looked past Emma to see me sitting in bed.

"You can always trust a mother's intuition," she said, then turned, opened Emma's bedroom door and got her luggage out of the closet. I jumped out of bed and pulled on a pair of trousers and sweater. Emma was sitting on her bed, her face wet with tears as Nora started packing whatever clothes she could find.

"Nora..." I said. She stopped me.

"I don't want to hear anything you have to say, Jeff. Helen must be rolling in her grave right now. I trusted you to take care of my daughter, not seduce her into your bed. We're leaving today; I won't spend another minute in this house. Emma, where are the rest of your clothes?"

"Mum, you have this all wrong," she pleaded.

Nora scoffed. "You're the one who's got it wrong, Emma." She looked around after emptying the closet. "Let me guess. He's got your things in his room." She pushed past me into our bedroom and pulled the closet doors open. "Just as I thought," she muttered. She started to gather an armload of Emma's clothes.

Emma followed her and took her arm, pulling Nora around to face her. "Mum! Stop! Listen to me!"

"There's nothing to say, Emma. You're coming home with us." She pointed a finger at me. "You're not spending another minute in this house with him. Get your things, now."

I spoke up. "Nora, please, listen to us ..."

"No! I won't hear it. Emma, have the decency to put some clothes on. We're leaving."

Emma stood in front of the closet. "I'm not going anywhere, Mum." She grabbed the clothes from her, then pointed to the settee in the bay window. "Sit down and listen to me." Nora started to say something. "Sit down! Now!" Emma shouted. Both Nora and I stared at her. I'd never heard her speak like that before. It seemed her inner strength was wide awake, and she was taking control of the situation.

Taken aback, Nora did as she was told. I came and stood beside Emma, my hand on her back to somehow give her my support, to tell her I was there for her if she needed me.

Greg appeared at the door. "What's going on? What's all the shouting about?"

"Our daughter is sleeping with my brother, that's what," Nora told him.

Greg stepped into the room. "What the hell? Emma, is this true?"

"Of course, it's true, Greg! I caught them in here together, both stark naked. I knew something was going on between them but, oh no, you wouldn't believe me. Go down and pack our things. We're leaving."

Emma spoke up. "No, Dad. Go sit with Mum."

"You've got some explaining to do, the both of you," he said.

"Yes, we do, so go sit with Mum and listen," she told him.

Greg joined Nora. They sat there staring at us.

"Mum, Dad, this is not the way we wanted you to find out, but here we are, so now we have to deal with it. First of all, Jeff did not seduce me. He's done nothing but show me how much he cares about me, how much he respects me."

Nora snorted. "Respects you? He's twice your age! All he wants is a piece of arm candy!"

"Mother, be quiet! Not another word!" Emma shouted.

Nora sat back, startled, and reached for Greg's hand.

"I'm sorry, Mum, but I won't put up with your attacks on Jeff. Whatever you think is happening here, you're wrong, dead wrong. Jeff didn't seduce me. If anything, he tried to discourage me from choosing this. Yes, that's right -- I chose this." She put her arm around my waist, looked up at me and smiled. "I love him. I love him with all my heart, and I know without any doubt that he loves me. I need you to understand that, but whether you agree with it or not, this is the way it's going to be. There's nothing you can do to stop it."

Nora laughed bitterly. "No? One call to the police and this is over. Is that what you want?"

Greg turned to her. "Nora, nobody is calling the police. I won't have my daughter dragged through something like that. No matter how we feel about this, I won't let that happen to her."

"You're on their side?" she said.

"I'm not on anyone's side! I'm mad as hell, but she's our daughter and he's your brother. We can't go running off in all directions. We need to stop and think about this."

"Thank you, Dad. And, Mum, I get it that you're shocked and all but there's no reason Jeff and I can't love each other just as much as anyone else. All you can do is decide whether to accept it or not..."

More than thirty years have passed since that day. Emma is in her fifties now, and I'm officially an old man, regardless of what she tells me. She completed her degree, almost at the top of her class, but refused to follow where that would inevitably lead her. She chose to work with me, and she's made quite a difference in our company. A lot of its later success comes from what she's done over the years.

Eventually, I became a stay-at-home dad for our two children. That's right, one of the things she wanted most from life was to be a mother. I can't describe the love I felt for her in the times when her belly was swollen with the children we created together, or when, exhausted, her hair matted in sweat, she held our newborn babies to her breast.

The year after Emma graduated, we were married in a small gathering of a few friends and family. It took a while for my grown children to accept that Emma was both their younger cousin and their stepmother, but that's long over. It's a running joke between us now. And I know if Helen could see us, she'd be happy for me, happy that I'd finally found joy in my life again.

Greg and Nora are a different story. Greg has never fully accepted us as a couple but over the years he's tried to stay in touch, more so now than in the past. We haven't seen Nora since that day, regardless of how many times we've reached out to mend the break. It's been especially hurtful to Emma, who feels it so deeply, but Nora simply refuses to acknowledge us as husband and wife. In her mind, I'm the villain and Emma is the willing victim. She wants nothing to do with us. It saddens all of us that our kids will probably never know their only grandmother.

And yes, through it all, Emma and I have proven that we love each other with all our hearts. Nothing will ever, ever change that.

One last thing - she still can't stand whiskey.

Cheers.