The Bargain

Dr. Condon picked up his cup of coffee to a long sip, and looked at her over the rim, "So, all I know of you is from Philip's perspective How about you tell me about yourself from the time of your birth, and about your parents"?

Molly sat quietly for a few seconds, seemingly gathering herself, and began to speak, unconsciously interlacing and unlacing her fingers repetitively.

"As you probably know, and can tell by looking at me, I'm of Japanese ethnicity, with both my mother and my father born in Japan. They met and married while in school at the University of Tokyo and moved to the United States to pursue graduate school. My father, a physicist, and my mother, a psych major, were accepted on scholarship at Cal Berkley, but within six months, my mother had met a woman, had come to the conclusion that she was a lesbian, and left my father. He was so distraught that he left the states immediately and moved back to Japan. What she hadn't told him was that she was two months pregnant, and seven months later, I was born. She didn't tell him that I existed for three years, and by that time he had remarried a Japanese woman, and wisely decided that neither my life nor his needed any disruption by any type of shared custody situation. So, he ceded any parental rights to me. I'm certain that my being female entered into his thinking, sons being more highly valued in Japanese society."

Molly looked at Dr. Condon, grinned wryly, and said, "It's ironic me sitting here with you because my mom went on to receive her Ph.D. in clinical psychology, and then trained as a psychotherapist at The Institute for Psychotherapy in Berkley."

He looked back at her with raised eyebrows and said, "Well, that is interesting. So, you're no stranger to this psycho mumbo-jumbo?"

She laughed and shook her head, "Oh, but I am. She was always just mom to me, and any head-shrinking that she may have done on me was so subtly insinuated that I was certainly unaware of it. Actually, it was probably my two other moms who were most likely to have tried to change the way that I looked at the world."

At this Dr. Condon perked up. "Oh right, your two other moms. I remember Philip mentioning them to me. Tell me about them please."

Molly took a deep breath, and let it out in a rush, "Whew, well we're getting right into it, aren't we?"

"If you feel rushed, we can talk about something else for a while," he said sympathetically.

"No, that's OK," she said pensively, "It's just that sometimes when I've first met someone, as I have you, I'm instinctively a little reluctant to reveal much about my family life because it was so unconventional. But really Dr. Condon, since that's what we're here for, I'd rather just get into it."

He nodded his acquiescence.

"As I told you, my mom had come to the realization that she was a lesbian, not bisexual, mind you, but a Birkenstock-wearing, non-leg shaving, Volkswagen bus-driving lesbian, and she apparently grabbed onto the lifestyle with both fists. She told me later that she sort of "Test-drove" her new sexuality for a couple of years, and then something happened that threw her for a loop, coming from an old, traditional society as she had. As you know, you can't throw a rock without hitting an LGBT organization of some sort in the bay area, and one weekend when she was attending a meeting of some off-the-wall group or other, she met and fell deeply in love not with just a woman, but a couple of women; and bizarrely enough, her infatuation and love was returned. They were both, to hear my mom tell it, completely smitten with her as well, and within two weeks, we had moved into the big old Victorian house that they were buying, and suddenly, I had three moms, and two sisters and a brother. I don't remember a lot about the transition, but from what mom tells me, it was pretty seamless. I was three years old at the time and by all accounts the picture of adaptability."

"So, you got along well with your new moms and your acquired siblings, I gather?"

"Oh, god yes," she said delightedly, "Mama Rosalee and Mommy Jennifer loved me from the first moment we met, and I loved them just as much. Mom died four years ago of ovarian cancer, and if I hadn't had those two, and my sisters and brother, I don't know what I would have done."

"Did you find it at all strange that your moms were living in a non-conventional relationship," he asked soothingly?

"I was so young when we moved in that I don't believe that I ever gave it a thought, nor had any context in which to judge it," she said pensively. "I had a single-parent family up until then, so I don't suppose that I gave the fact that all of a sudden I had three mothers much thought. And then later, in school, it wasn't such a big deal because there were so many kids from single-family homes and homosexual families, that the fact that I had three moms instead of two wasn't much of a blip on most kids radar."

"Were you a good student in school?"

"Oh, yes. I started reading when I was four, after all, the moms kept me busy, kept me from talking incessantly by reading to me, and I wanted to read too. I was so precocious that I was started into school directly into the second grade and had no trouble with the curriculum nor any social issues. I was a real motor-mouth and would talk to anyone who would listen, so I had no trouble making friends."

Dr. Condon looked at her intently, "And exactly when did you first meet Samuel Freskin?"

She looked down at her hands pensively, but before she could answer, he said, "On second thought, let's put that on hold until the next session if you don't mind. It's a topic that I think will require some lengthy conversation, and I see that our time is nearly up. Instead, can you tell me a little more about your mother?"

With a small, wistful smile, Molly raised guileless eyes to his, "My mother was one of the sweetest, most genuine people that I ever knew. Sure, I loved her because she was my mom, but her gentle nature and calm way of seeing the world made everyone she came into contact with love her. I certainly did. I thought she walked on water."

"So, what kind of conversations did the two of you have about the nature of the relationship that she was in with your other two moms," he said, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees?

Molly looked out the window, seemingly caught up in a memory, "Believe it or not, I don't think we ever had a conversation that directly concerned how her relationship with Rosie and Jenny worked or how they related to one another or to the totality of their union. We had a lot of talks about love, what love is, how you express it, how you prove it, lots of things like that, which was logical when you consider the focus of her psychotherapy practice".

Condon gazed at her, one eyebrow raised in silent inquiry.

"Oh, I thought maybe you knew, though I'm not sure why you would. She specialized in helping people who were involved in unconventional loving relationships. Though she didn't ever reveal anything about individual patients or her sessions with them, I put together that she saw clients from polyamorous groups, both gay and lesbian couples, and I admit I did find this a little shocking, many, many couples or individuals who were involved in incestuous relationships that they didn't know how to navigate. I suppose you could generalize and say that she specialized in love, with all its' trials, tribulations and warts." She smiled a little sadly at the last. "I guess that's what we're dealing with here aren't' we, the warts, I mean?"

Condon nodded slowly to her, "The warts indeed, Dr. Laughlin."

He smiled and, rising from his chair, said, "I guess we'll call it a day, and pick it up again on Thursday, then."

She stood, facing him, six feet tall in her heels, so she wasn't looking up at Dr. Condon at a great angle. Blank-faced she blurted out, "You truly don't think that there is any chance for Philip and I do you, Frank."

He looked at her appraisingly for a moment. "Molly why don't we take it a session at a time and see where it goes. You never can tell when something will just drop out of the sky that you didn't ever expect. I'm sure that you've had that happen in your work."

She hung her head for a moment, and when she looked up, her lashes were bejeweled with tears. "Yes, that has happened, but not often enough for me to be optimistic."

He placed his hand comfortingly on her forearm. "I'll see you, Thursday Molly, same time."

**********

INTERMEZZO

After the appointment with Dr. Condon, Molly drove home immediately and submerged her anxiety and sense of abandonment in a tumbler of twenty-year-old scots whiskey. Arriving home from the joint visit to the psychotherapist three days before, she was shocked when Philip didn't arrive at nearly the same time, and then not at all. She tried calling him, and when he didn't answer, she walked through the house only to find that his personal effects were gone from his bathroom, along with a number of his suits from the closet. Though she knew that they had some serious issues to resolve, she had not for a moment, up to this point, really believed that Philip truly meant to leave her and that he had now actually moved out.

Over the last two days, she had been a complete loss at work, both at the Brookings Institute and during classes and meetings at Georgetown. The normally calm, cool, and collected Dr. Michiko Laughlin had been scattered, inattentive, and unable to concentrate on anything except Phil, upon what she needed to say to him when they could finally talk. Though she had called him several times, and sent numerous e-mails, she finally faced the fact that he didn't want to talk to her right now, and she texted him to let him know that she would be ready when he wanted to get together. She received no response.

She was sipping her drink, looking mindlessly out over the backyard when the doorbell rang. She sighed, rose, and walked to the front door. Upon looking through the peephole, she saw a small courier service van parked in front of the house, the same service that she had used on many occasions to send and receive documents related to her work. She opened the door, and the young man holding a flat box smiled at her, looked at an electronic pad, back at her, and said, questioningly, "Dr. Michiko Laughlin"? She tiredly smiled back and said, "Yes."

"Sign here," he said, extending the electronic pad.

She signed, he handed her the box, and said, "You've been served, ma'am," as he took her picture holding the box, with his phone camera.

Her eyes widened and filled with tears as the "Courier" turned on his heel and walked away toward his van. She remained there in the cooling air for what seemed like forever, her mind empty, resolutely refusing to think, to consider what was in the box, to accept the fact that her darling Philip was so unhappy with her that he would actually consider leaving her forever. Finally, her innate sense of practicality made her go back into the house, shut the door, and carry the box containing her despair into the family room where she sat down and contemplated its blank, impersonal surface that belied its' disastrous contents.

The box was difficult to open, and she managed to cut two of her fingers on the binding tape, but she paid no attention to the blood that smeared the stack of paperwork that she removed to her lap. As she scanned through the papers, she left light smudges of bloody fingerprints on many pages, later thinking that the smudges were symbolic of how deeply she was wounded by what she read.

Though it was obfuscated by legal jargon, the long and short of it was that Philip Braxton Laughlin sought a dissolution of his marriage to Michiko Satomi Yoshida Laughlin on the grounds of "Irreconcilable Differences", and that he further sought an equal distribution of all assets, with requests for financial maintenance by either party neither made nor entertained; that the distribution of assets be accomplished by means of negotiations between expert financial representatives of both parties; and that no requests for marital, or "Couples" counseling were made nor would be entertained. Further, it was stated that the plaintiff had no desire to meet or speak with the respondent and that all inquiries and responses to the filing should be addressed to the plaintiff's legal representatives. In the matter of the progeny of the parties, the plaintiff, Philip Laughlin had established a trust fund in the amount of $500,000.00 to cover any remaining educational and upkeep expenses of Patricia Martina Yoshida Laughlin, and that additional funds would be potentially available to said P. Laughlin upon her request and itemization. It was made clear that the plaintiff wished a rapid response and hasty conclusion to the matter, and that no deviation from the proposal as stated was anticipated.

Molly, again, went into a semi-fugue state and she simply sat for nearly an hour, her mind a blank, staring at the pages in her lap. Finally, she realized that it was nearly 9:00 and that she hadn't had anything to eat at all that day. She dragged herself from the chair, feeling as if she had run a marathon, and walked into the kitchen where she made a small salad, adding some cold chicken breast that she kept for the purpose. She ate only half of it before she felt her stomach rebel, but, by deep breathing, she managed to keep it down, and then drank a whole bottle of water.

She slumped down the hall to the master bedroom, where she was crushed by the feeling of loss, knowing that Phil wasn't going to be in the bed with her yet again. She wished that she could wave a magic wand and that everything would be okay, but she was nothing if not realistic, and she knew that there was a distinct possibility nothing would ever be okay again.

With simple mindfulness, she managed to get her face cleaned and one of Phil's old tee-shirts on before she fell into bed and a night of fitful sleep; yet when she arose, she was refreshed, had a reinvigorated outlook on things, and surprisingly enough was, for some reason, a little angry. She needed to think things through thoroughly, but increasingly, she was beginning to feel like an aggrieved party, as if Philip hadn't thought this whole issue through completely, and that by his hasty actions had put in motion a process that would damage everyone involved. She dressed and went to work with a growing feeling of righteous indignation in place, actually more effective than she had been for the last couple of days. Anger became her.

************

Telephone Call: Molly Laughlin to Col. Samuel Freskin

"Colonel Freskin's office, Sergeant Devit speaking, may I help you, sir"?

"Good morning, Sergeant, this is Doctor Laughlin, is Colonel Freskin available"?

"Doctor, he's on another call at the moment, but, if you'll hold, let me tell him that you're waiting".

In less than a minute, she heard the hold-to-music stop and a deep voice said, "Moll, how are you doing, sweetheart?"

"Not so well, Sam. I was served with divorce papers last night, and I'm still a little shaky about it; angry but shaky. The only positive thing is that he's citing "Irreconcilable Differences."

"Well, shaky, I can understand, but the angry part, I'm not so sure that I get that".

"Why shouldn't I be angry, Sam? Phil and I have been married for nearly twenty-two years, and from my perspective, I've never seen or heard anything that would have indicated to me that he was anything but happy in our relationship. And now I find out, as I told you about the appointment we shared with Doctor Condon the other day, he's been building up to this since the day that Patti was born. You remember, the remark he made about the flowers and card you sent?"

"Yes, I remember, and as I said before, in retrospect it was a stupid, unthinking thing for me to do, and, even now, I'm embarrassed and regret it, knowing the hurt it must have caused Philip."

"But I just don't see that! You were only doing the same thing lots of other people did on the same day, sending cards, flowers, letting me know that they shared in our happiness and hopes for a happy, healthy baby."

"Sure, Moll, but to Phil, all those other cards and flowers weren't from the man who was in love with, and was, in turn loved by his wife. Regardless of all the agreements that you might have made before you guys married, I think that day just brought home the fact that it would never be just you and him and a vine-covered cottage in the relationship; that there would always be the three of us."

"I know, Sam, and I understand it intellectually; but I can't get past that we were together nearly two-and-a-half years before we married. We talked the issues to death, and Phil had all the time in the world to know what he was getting into, especially when you and I had our weekends together. Sam, Phil knew that I love you and that it wasn't and isn't going to change; but even knowing all the ins and outs of my heart and experiencing first-hand how it would be accepting that I also love someone else, he still went into our marriage with, as far as I knew, his eyes wide open. I hid nothing from him, and as a matter of fact, was always sure to talk about you in terms that left no question of the devotion that I have for you, and that it had nothing to do with the love that I have for him; and I mean that the love I still have for him. Sam, if I lose Philip, I don't know what I'll do. He's my love, the father of our child, my life partner. How could I deal with losing him?"

"Honey, that's an answer that I don't have, and while I can sympathize, I don't know how I can help you with the situation other than to support your choices. I just strongly feel that if I insert myself in any way, it would be extremely counter-productive to both of you."

She sighed and was quiet for a moment. "I know you're right. I wish that I could turn the whole mess over to you to handle and just retreat into my research papers. I'd only come out when you had talked some sense into Philip, and we could go on with our lives as we always did."

"I wish I could give you some encouragement, but I just don't see this having a happy ending Moll."

"Maybe not, but I'm tired of being on the defensive. I'm going to see Doctor Condon tomorrow afternoon, and hopefully afterward, I'll have a better idea of how I'm going to fight for my marriage."

"Well, good luck babe. You know I love you, and that I'll be thinking of you."

"I know, Sam. I love you too, Bye."

**********

Telephone Call: Molly Laughlin to Patricia Laughlin

"Hi mom, I hope you're calling me with good news."

"I wish I were, honey, but I'm sorry to say that I was served with divorce papers last night".

Patti let out her breath in an exasperated whoosh, "I just cannot fucking understand this whole thing. It's like daddy moved out overnight and some alien being moved into his skin. It's all just completely nuts!"

"Language, please, Patricia. You know how it jars me to hear you use foul words."

Patricia laughed with little humor, "Mom, if the worst problem we have right now is me saying 'fuck', then we need to go back and re-evaluate the issues. After all, I am an adult now and entitled to both opinions and, as you put it, foul words."

"Shit, I guess, you're right," she said sarcastically, and they both gave a sharp, self-conscious laugh.

"Momma, I just need some help with this. All my life, even though my dear sweet daddy has been the main man in my life, I've known that Sam Freskin was your most treasured friend and that you were in love with him too. But the telling thing is that no matter how much you talked to Sam on the phone when he was living overseas, or the weekends you spent with him, or even the two-week trip we took to visit him in Italy, I never saw daddy do or say anything at all that would have told me that he had any real issues with your relationship with Sam at all, nothing!"