Three Women

"I'm honored that you brought me here, then." We kissed again. "This place doesn't seem so crazy. What's the craziest?"

She didn't hesitate. "The top of Spanky's Ladder. In winter. It was snowing. A quickie. He was sweeping."

"You were ski patrol, too?"

"Auxiliary. But that day I was just up there with him. It was the last day we skied together; he died the next week."

"I'm so sorry," again, because there wasn't really anything else to say.

She gave me a reassuring squeeze. "It's a nice memory. Grace makes fun of me every time we go up there."

"You told her?"

"Sure. We're the Gilmore Girls. No secrets."

"My life was full of secrets," I said, ready to elaborate.

"Let them go, Steven. I don't need to know even one of them."

Rescued again by the wisdom of women. So we talked about skiing. And our kids. And skiing with our kids. Who we knew in common. Provincial politics. We sat until it was time to go, gently fondling each other like a couple of mature, self-confident people who had all the time in the world.

"We have to start heading back," she said. "Do you need to come? I could make that happen."

"No need. This is perfect. You could keep your shirt off, for a while, if that's okay."

"It's okay," she said, "I'm happy you like looking at me. I can do this, too." She folded the top of her shorts down to the bikini line. She was shapely yet fleshy, solid, present, substantive, authentic. Womanly.

"That's nice." I pulled my pants back up and tied my shirt around my waist. "I'm going to be spending a lot of time with you, I think."

"I'd like that." She stayed bare most of the way back.

"Put me to work tonight," I said.

"You bet I will." She slipped her shirt back on and headed down to the cottage, Inside, Ann was in her favorite chair by the southwest window, the afternoon sun dappling her body in Squamish shades of yellow and red. I tried to remember her from last night, naked, grasping, accommodating; yet already it was gone, a fiction; the reality of our friendship left her the woman I've always known. And I was full of Georgia.

"Thanks for setting me up," I said.

"So you forgive me, then?"

I couldn't stop the laugh. "I think I'm going to be spending a lot of time with her."

"Everyone will be glad to hear that."

"Sheesh. What does a man have to do to get some privacy around here?"

I showered and changed and had just gotten back downstairs when I heard the kitchen door slam. "Stephen?"

"She's putting you to work?" Ann asked. "Hope you can cut it!"

Georgia, indeed, had high expectations even of such an inexperienced sous-chef and was fully primed to reject ingredients not prepared to her specific requirements. After being too casual with my first carrot, I upped my game and evidently passed muster because she kept me at work. She didn't talk much, and then only to let me know what she was doing and what I might have to do next. Very refreshing. Needless to say, the dinner was incredible.

The room was flooded with wine-induced bonhomie. Grace looked at her mother, then at me. "Have a nice hike?"

"It's always nice up there," Georgia said.

Ann laughed, Grace pushed. "Looks like more than that to me!"

I stepped in. "Can I date your mother, Grace?"

"I hope so. We've been trying to introduce you guys for a while now."

"Mission accomplished," I said. I blew a kiss to Georgia. She sent one back.

"I wish I could stay, but I have a brunch to cater tomorrow."

"I'll drive you wherever, early," I said.

"No, Stephen; if I stayed tonight, I don't think very much sleeping would get done."

That might have been TMI even for Grace.

Georgia stood. "Walk me out." We held hands and I felt like I'd known her forever. "Stephen, I want you to know that I'm really ready for this. I've been alone for a lot of years. But I'm not your rebound girl. You let go of me right now, or never. Do not fuck me over."

How could you not fall in love with someone who not only knows their own mind like that, but can huck all the lines off of Spanky's Ladder, besides?

I kissed her cheek. "I'll tell you the truth, all the time. I'll listen hard. I'll try not to assume anything. That's all I can promise."

"Deal," she said. We shook hands.

"Can we see each other tomorrow?"

"Take me out to dinner. I will have had enough cooking by then."

I met her at The Salted Vine at 8:00. We talked nonstop and played silly games between courses that required intertwining our fingers in ever more complex ways.

"Come home with me?" It was a question and an invitation.

"You're sure?"

"Yes. You?"

I blessed my doubts and let them go. "Yes. I want you. The past is over. The rest, we'll just have to see."

Georgia's kind and tender laugh filled me with hope and promise. "Come on then. This is going to be fun."

Boy, was it. Back at her place, we did just about everything two people can do to each other, a few times each, that night and the next morning. She wasn't afraid to tell me what she wanted, or what she didn't want, but nothing I wanted was proscribed. I realized (again) how much of my life with Sheila had happened in my own head, and what a relief it was to be with someone who forced me to be with her. Accept no substitutes! Scary, maybe, but exhilarating.

A year later, we got married. It was a loud and joyful affair, at the country, and not so surprisingly, Sheila came. "First time to see the kids together since I left," she said. And yes, Georgia had invited her.

"I'm happy to see it. You were right," I told her. She nodded. The pressure gone, I saw a reflection of the girl I once had loved in the woman I knew today. "You okay?"

"I am. I like Toronto. I like my job. I love my sister. Made some friends. Doing some art. I'm sad and lonely sometimes. Happy sometimes. I miss the kids. Jace and Carol call me, but today is the first time I talked to Jeff."

"It was hardest for him," I said.

"I apologized; he wasn't very graceful, but he seems okay with it. It still was the right choice for me." She paused. "Seems like the right choice for you, too."

"It was. It's taken me a while, though, to find the courage that you had. I'm sorry," I said, "about not seeing you for all those years. Just seeing a version of you."

"I'm sorry," she said, "about only letting you see that part. Not letting you see the me I was so afraid of being. Friends?"

"Family," I said. "You'll always be welcome here."

She smiled, patted her heart, squeezed my arm. My bride saw us talking and came over. "Sheila. Thanks for coming."

"Thanks for having me. Stephen says we're all family now."

"Okay with me," Georgia said. "He has to live with my dead husband."

"Carol's due in a few months," Sheila said. "I expect I'll be out here more."

Georgia pointed to a very pregnant Grace. "Twins in there," she said. "I'm gonna be busy myself. Plus we're newlyweds." She wrapped her arm around my waist and squeezed.

Sheila laughed heartily. "He's pretty good at that. Most fun I ever had, ever."