Reaching Toward Freedom Pt. 03

Reaching Toward Freedom, Pt. 03

I've said it before, but sometimes the characters hijack the story. I knew where I wanted to go with this, but I didn't know how to get there until the characters showed me the way. They did not take the shortest route, but I found that they showed me things that I needed to see.

This is the story of the next and perhaps final step in Bill's healing and rebirth. It may not be his final story, but by the end of this he is whole again.

As usual, there is no sex. This is just a story about people finding love from within the ruins.

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Spring was upon me. I had to say that, and I laugh every time I think about it. Spring in Maine is a classic case of "Don't blink or you'll miss it." It was mud season. The snow was largely gone except for the shadows on the north side of buildings, the piles made by the plows on the parking lots, and in the woods where the pine trees still shade the ground. It's cold, but not like it was, and there is promise.

Would it surprise you to learn that I almost like this time of year? The ground is turning soft, but you can feel the frozen earth just an inch or two below the surface. The air is crisp, but a light vest is all that's needed to stay warm unless the wind comes up. That's something else I learned to do this past winter - I started wearing winter vests. I don't mean a fancy wool or synthetic thing with half a dozen buttons that's worn under your suit coat. I mean a sleeveless nylon jacket with insulation to keep your core warm while your arms can enjoy the cold. You see a lot of them up here in anything but the coldest and windiest of days. It's the tourists from away that wear heavy winter parkas.

It was a Saturday morning with little to do, and I needed to decide between running and breakfast. I chose breakfast just before the call came. I'd run when the sun was high instead of eating lunch. It's a funny thing about Maine. Not too many decades ago the food was notoriously bland, lobster was king, and you couldn't get a decent cup of coffee for love or money. All that has changed. Lobster is still king, but the food rivals any state in the union. There is every ethnicity you can imagine, and simple meals cooked to perfection. For breakfast, I drove to the north edge of town and a diner where I knew I could get what they call brewer's hash consisting of home fries, sausage, and eggs with a nice aioli, toast, and coffee that rivaled my own.

I'm told it takes seven generations before a person can call themselves a true Mainer, and in twenty years it will probably be eight, but when I walked into that diner, I saw a half dozen friendly faces and I knew that I was home.

"What kept you?" They were laughing at my expense.

"So what's the occasion, or are you just checking up on the new transplant?" I got looks that suggested a little of this and a little of that.

"Nothing special. It was Henry's turn to cook, so he decided to take Sheryl out to breakfast. Sheryl called Joan, and... well, the rest as they say is history."

I believed about half of that, but I was happy all the same. Breakfast was delicious and fun. The conversation ranged over every topic from office gossip to politics and everyone talked about the weather. It was moments like this that taught me that I was home.

"Do you have a launch date for that boat of yours?"

"No. I was at the yard yesterday after work." I looked at the women and said, "The old girl needs her bottom scraped and painted." That got me the reaction I was going for! The men loved it and the women were trying unsuccessfully to be offended.

"I wouldn't mind getting my bottom scraped once in a while." That caught everyone's attention. "I'm sorry. Did I say that out loud?" Joan was smiling, but I sensed a little truth in her words. There was nothing any of us could say in response to that.

The older I get, the more I appreciate times like this. It isn't the big things in life that enrich us the most; it's the little things that make us feel loved and appreciated. Breakfast was what I had come to expect from these new friends of mine. It was lively, fun, and delicious, and I carried thoughts of that hour with me through the rest of the day. I left feeling about as good as a man could feel, or so I thought.

I got the next call early that evening. Bobby asked if he and his sister could come up when school let out.

"Sure! Of course you can. You know you two are welcome anytime."

"Great, dad! Thanks, but I don't know if you understood. We would like to come up for the summer."

"For the whole summer?" I wasn't expecting that, but it was great news! "You bet you can! What brought this on?"

"Well, I graduate in May..."

"And you know I intend to be there, don't you?"

"Yeah dad! Thanks. Anyway, I thought I'd look for a job for a year or so before I go to graduate school. You've been suggesting that and it's starting to make a lot of sense to me. Jenny wants to continue as a nursing intern, but she says that she can do that anywhere and why not do it up there?"

This day was looking better all the time! "That all sounds good to me." I was over the moon! We made some preliminary plans, agreed to finalize them at graduation, and once he'd checked up on how the old man was getting along, we ended the call. That's when I looked around my bachelor apartment and thought, "All summer? This isn't going to work." Well, it did and it didn't, but I'll get to that.

I flew down for Bobby's graduation feeling every bit the proud father. Sheila was there and she brought you-know-who. It was our first meeting. I wasn't quite done with my therapy sessions, and George's presence at Bobby's graduation was discussed when I returned. The divorce was nearing completion, and we decided that whether she was showing off her new man or just trying to hurt the old one, in the long run it didn't matter. I was not responsible for her actions, and my self-esteem was no longer dependent on her actions. Bobby started to apologize and I waived him off. His dad is a big boy, and I can take care of myself.

Okay, I'm not perfect but I was trying mighty hard. I was forced to sit with the wife-stealing turd over a late lunch or early dinner, depending on how you viewed it, and promised myself that I would behave. I kept that promise, but it wasn't easy. I knew how it would go if I didn't and I wanted this to be Bobby's big day. He made a few unnecessary remarks about my small bachelor apartment and the cold, lonely winters in Maine. I told him in return that I go out as many nights as I stay in, and with all the town has to offer a fancy apartment would just be a waste. I meant it, but I doubt that he believed it. I thought about making one or two not-so-veiled comments about his lack of character, but I knew where that would lead. I would have said something about him not being unable to find a wife of his own, and that would have prompted him to say something to the effect of "If you can't keep your own wife happy..." That would have prompted me to say something like, "I always thought she was happy. I guess that's something else she wasn't truthful about." Did I tell you I play chess? Anyway, I figured I was at least three moves ahead of him and I knew where it would go. I wasn't going to ruin Bobby's celebration that way, although he did tell me later that I should have decked him. It's a good feeling when your grown son has your back. When lunch was over, I did tell him that I hoped he and Shiela would be very happy together and I tried very hard to mean it, but I knew how that would end up, too. I knew my soon-to-be ex, and he was in for a world of hurt. Sometimes the best revenge is what your enemy brings on themselves.

Did I mention that Sheila's parents, Bobby and Jenny's grandparents, were there? I made it a point to show them the utmost gratitude and respect, and they responded with a warmth I had come to expect from them. There are times when I wonder how such good people raised such a privileged, entitled daughter. Perhaps the reason I was able to show at least a modicum of restraint was the fact that every time George was speaking, I would look in their direction, and they looked as if they were sucking on a lemon. They weren't enjoying George any more than I was.

Bobby and Jenny soon began talking about their plans for staying in Maine that summer as if they were unaware that they were sticking a knife in their mother's heart, but at that moment I was perfectly okay with it. I played dumb and happy and they gushed about their plans while Sheila and George became strangely quiet.

That evening I left feeling pretty good about my life. My son had done very well in college and had a bright future ahead of him. My daughter was doing equally well and was blossoming into a lovely and charming young woman. There wasn't much that could ruin that day, not even George and Shiela. Shiela did take me aside to talk for a few minutes and I was gracious. She tried one last time to talk me out of the divorce. At no time did she offer to drop George and I didn't ask. I reminded her about how we'd found our way to this sad situation, and she once again blamed me for not allowing her a little time. It was actually the first time she threw the tired old line "If you really loved me..." at me, and all I could do was take a heavy breath and say, "No." I was long past the point of no return. I had sailed the stormy sea, found calm water, and was now safely at anchor in a new harbor.

The second best and saddest part of the evening was saying goodbye to Bobby and Jenny's grandparents. They had always been very good to me and quite honestly, I was going to miss them. She hugged me and apologized for her daughter's behavior. It was a lovely thing to say, but I told her that Sheila is a grown-ass woman and able to make her own mistakes without blaming her parents. That seemed to please her. He, on the other hand, threw his arms around my shoulders and told me that they were coming up to visit just as soon as they were invited. That put a big smile on my face and I told him, "Consider yourself invited!" He seemed to like that and he kept his word.

I spent that night in a local motel and drove around town just enough to see that everything I remembered was still there. I had an afternoon flight the next day, so in the morning I met up with many of those same friends and spouses who had helped me move and we had a wonderful breakfast of pancakes, eggs, and catching up. I told them about what I was up to in Maine, they told me about the goings on in my former hometown, and I began to think that I cherished these friends even more than when I leaned on them almost a year ago.

The flight home was barely an hour, and I spent most of it thinking about my kids, friends, and former in-laws. I felt that I was, and I am, a blessed man. I have an abundance of love and friendship in my life with great kids, former in-laws who I still love and who love me, and good friends in both Maryland and Maine. A man shouldn't need pain to find joy, but I decided the pain was more than worthwhile to get the life I now had.

For a time I even thought about Sheila. Much of my anger and pain was dissipated now and I could look back on the years we had together with something more than just anger and hurt. They were, or they seemed to me to be, good years and a good life. Joe had taught me that understanding why she betrayed us was less important than accepting that she had and that moving on is the only way forward. I saw pain in her future, and I felt sorry for her. I knew by then that I was unable to save her from herself just as I was unable to prevent her betrayal. Life brings us both sadness and joy and our job is just as much to discard the sadness as it is to hold on to the joy. As we approached Portland airport, I took measure of my life with the struggles, the love, and the surprises, and I decided that on balance I was doing very well. Plus, my kids were going to be with me for the summer!

Need I tell you that the kids had the answers figured out long before I knew the questions? For instance, I thought they'd drive up together, but two young people need two cars. Bobby spent a few days helping his mother around the house and going out with his friends, and then he was knocking on my door less than a week after graduation. He already had interviews lined up and had started work before his sister arrived.

Graduation for seniors comes sooner than finals end for other students, so Jenny was a bit more than a week behind her brother, and she did not arrive alone. Once again, Elena joined us and this time it was for the summer. It made sense. She and Jenny were roommates and Elena had nowhere to go but home to Greece, so they had decided that she would join us in Maine. Bobby was more than fine with that. I think my boy would have slept in the bathroom tub to make room for Elena to stay if it had been necessary, but we worked it out. The girls took my room, I gave Bobby the spare bedroom, and I took the couch. Bobby protested, but I wanted there to be some kind of barrier between those two even if it was imaginary.

One of the first things we did was go contra dancing. They were more eager than me and seemed to remember the steps. When they told me they'd been telling all their friends at school about it, I became worried that maybe reality would not live up to the hype, but they had a ball and that was more than enough for me.

After one week on the couch I decided it was time to find a place with more bedrooms, and I started house hunting. It was then that I learned that everyone, and I do mean everyone, had a lot of ideas about how I should live, where I should live, and what kind of place I should get. My friends at work were of two minds. Some thought I should live close to work, which meant in a crowded part of town, and others thought I should get a place on the water. Clearly, they had never priced waterfront property. My friends in Maryland only cared that I have a large guest bedroom for when they visited while my kids each wanted their own bathroom. I learned to smile, nod, and keep my opinions to myself until I was ready to seek advice.

This much I knew: I wanted enough space but not more work maintaining it. I wanted a workshop that could be little more than a garage and I wanted a garden. I needed three bedrooms and I wanted to be close enough to the water to go sailing without it becoming a big production. My home office could be in my bedroom just like it was in the apartment, and I wanted a kitchen big enough to eat in. It all screamed house, and I began to realize that my days of living in my bachelor apartment were over. My thoughts soon turned to debating good-as-new vs a fixer-upper. I put that question on the back burner until I learned a little more about what was available.

The first realtor I met was throwing questions at me faster than I could answer them. Cape? Colonial? Antique? Split? Modern? What about kitchen cabinets? Vaulted ceilings? One story or two? She finally looked at me in exasperation and asked, "Well what do you like?"

I looked back at her and said, "Like the man on the Supreme Court said about pornography, 'I can't define it, but I know what I like.'" I made an appointment with a second realtor the next day.

Meanwhile, Bobby was busy with his new job, and the girls were working those crazy long hours that people work in hospitals. I was home alone more nights than I initially expected, but that gave me time to go through house listings. All the while, Voyager was calling me and I made it a point to spend at least one weekend day sailing Casco Bay and open ocean to the east. One or more of the kids joined me most days while Elena was developing into a first-rate sailor with Bobby assisting her whenever possible. I worried that she might mind, but she never seemed to object. Pretty soon that puppy dog was going to get a leash, but I decided to let him learn it for himself.

As for Jenny, I worried about her for about a week. The young men found her soon enough and on her second week in Maine she had her first date of the summer. Unlike her brother, she seemed intent on playing the field and I lost track of their names almost immediately.

My search for a new place was moving slowly enough. I knew enough to realize it would be one and done, just find what I really wanted and then hopefully never move again. My realtor was named Rebecca and between work during the week and Voyager on weekends we developed a pattern of meeting for a few lunch hours every week. I'd see one or maybe two houses each day, search the listings between visits, and that was about as fast as I wanted to move.

I wasn't finding anything that suited me. It wasn't that I was being overly particular, or so I told myself, but I just wasn't finding something that made me want to move out of the convenience of my apartment, which was fine with me. The living arrangements were working, and everyone was getting along, so other than sleeping on a foldout sofa that allowed me one and only one comfortable position, I felt I was in no hurry.

It was toward the end of summer that I began to suspect something: houses along the coast of Maine are more expensive in spring than in fall. There were also more houses for sale in the fall after the summer season was passed. When I suggested that to Rebecca, she never quite admitted it was true, but she smiled. Never forget that the realtor works for the seller. I mentioned that to Joe and he laughed saying, "Yeah, but the lobsters are more expensive in the fall!" I guess it all balances out.

June rolled by all too fast. It was a whirlwind of excitement for the young ones and that excitement was rubbing off on me. I started hearing about places to eat that I'd never tried and places to go where I would stand out as the old guy in the room. No matter. There was a never-ending parade of new faces coming through the apartment after work and then departing for the nightlife that young people thrive on. Seeing them doing so well, making new friends and having new experiences made me just about the happiest guy around, and yet no matter what they were doing they still found time to spend with me. Bobby and Jenny were becoming Maine natives while Elena was rapidly becoming my second daughter. It doesn't get any better than that, or so I thought.

My life was soon destined for great upheaval when I had an experience over the Fourth of July weekend that left me both puzzled and at least temporarily uncomfortable. Everyone was out on their boat for the holiday weekend and that morning there wasn't a breath of wind, so I spent some time cleaning up. I gave Voyager's deck a good scrubbing, cleaned and straightened the cabin a bit, and was going over the sails and rigging looking for wear when I heard a young voice say, "Sir, what kind of boat is that?"

I turned to see a young woman maybe thirteen years old standing on the dock admiring Voyager.

"It's a thirty-six-foot cutter that was designed about twenty years ago for offshore sailing. They only built three of them."

"What kind of keel does your boat have?"

"A fin keel. Why do you ask?"

I didn't get a direct answer. "Fin keels are faster maneuvering and quicker in the turns. Do you pick up many lobster pots?"

Lobster pot is a New England term for a lobster trap. The traditional traps were wood and net, but now they are mostly wire cages. They sit on the bottom with a line that goes to a float on the surface. Lobster fishermen grab the float, haul the line, and harvest the lobsters. If the current is pulling the float sideways so it's not directly over the pot and a boat passes by too close, the line can get caught on the underside of the boat and then it's a real mess to deal with. It also tends to drag the trap across the bottom and bust up the trap which is more than a little upsetting to the lobstermen because that's both an expense and lost income.

"No, the rudder has a skeg and I try to avoid sailing too close to the floats. You seem to know a fair amount about sailboats. Do you sail?" I damn near bit my tongue when I said that. An alarm bell started going off in my head, and I had a sudden sense of what this might look like to someone passing by, but it was too late. An old man, a young girl, and an open cabin hatch... I would not do well in prison!

"Yes, sir! I love sailing. My mom and I can't afford a boat, but I've taken classes at the club. If you ever need a crew, I'm available and I'd love to go out." That alarm bell was sounding louder than ever.

I took a few steps toward her so we could have this conversation with a bit less volume. "Do your parents know that you're here bumming rides on boats?" I couldn't help it; the father in me was coming out.

"Well, mom lets me sail when she knows where I am."

Okay, this was making a bit more sense, but I was sensing some deception. "Well first of all, you need to understand that the only way I'm taking you on as crew is if I meet your parents and they say it's okay. Then if everyone agrees, I'm always looking for a good crew." I must have been out of my mind! What was I thinking? No way that I was taking her sailing without at least one of my kids onboard.

"Oh, mom will be fine with it. I've gone sailing on several other boats before."

Yeah. Right. Like I'm going to fall for that one. "I'll give you my phone number, and your mother can arrange to meet me sometime."

"She's pretty busy, but I'm sure she can call you."

I repeated myself. "Your mother can arrange to meet me sometime."

She seemed disappointed, but she took my number.

"Before you go, you never told me your name."

That seemed to bring on a smile. "I'm Emily."

"And does Emily have a last name?"

I actually got a little giggle for that remark. "Yes, sir. It's Rogers. I'm Emily Rogers."

"Well, Emily Rogers, I'm Bill Davis. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise. Thank you and I'll be in touch!"

Geez, what did I just do?

Not long after that I was finished and decided to call it a day. The wind wasn't coming up, and I was thinking that a late lunch was in order. As I walked to the end of the pier I saw a patrol car. The officer wasn't there, but I decided to wait. A few minutes later he returned from whatever he was doing and I approached him.

"Excuse me, officer, but can you spare a minute?"

"Sure. What can I do for you?"

"Well, I'm thinking I might be in one of those situations where a little candor and frank discussion could save me from a world of hurt later."

That seemed to peak his interest.

"A few minutes ago I was approached by a young girl. She was maybe thirteen, and she wanted a ride on my boat. Well I'm not crazy, so I told her I'd consider it if I met her parents first. The more I think about it, the more it concerns me."

"You say she was about thirteen? Was she about this tall..." He held his hand out. "... and blonde?"

"That sounds like her."

"That sounds like Emily."

"That's her! That's the name she gave me. Do you know what the story is?"

The officer took a breath as if to think about what he could say or what he should say. "Emily is the ultimate free-range kid. Her father took off about three years ago and left her and her mother behind. Her mother, Diane, works to support the two of them, but nothing less than chaining her to the radiator is going to keep that kid at home. She loves to sail!"

"So she's known? Has she been out on many of these boats before?"

"These boats? No. She bums rides on daysailers when she can, but never anything bigger. She approached you to go out on your boat? What kind of boat do you have?"

"I have a thirty-six-foot cutter named Voyager. I have to tell you I'm not altogether comfortable with the idea of her jumping on random boats. She says her mother is okay with it, but I find that hard to believe."

"Her mother will definitely not be okay with it."

I was nodding. "Okay. That makes a little more sense. I gave her my number and told her to have her mother meet me. I want to do this face-to-face. I have a feeling there may be a little larceny in this young woman and I don't want her passing off a random caller as her mother."

The officer was nodding. "Her mother is not going to be happy, but she's a good kid. She just loves to sail. Maybe with a little conversation the two of you can work something out."

I was starting to feel a little better about things. "Meanwhile, you might want to keep an eye out. I'm not accusing anyone, but she's awfully young to be wandering these docks by herself and way too young to be jumping on strange boats." On that we more than agreed.

I ran into Joe the next day and told him about Emily. He nodded. "I know Emily. She's a good kid. She's sailed with me several times and she can handle a boat like she's been sailing all her life."

"Doesn't it bother you that she's wandering the yard bumming rides?"

"Yeah, that's new. She normally just crews out on the smaller one-designs. Maybe I better have a talk with her mother. I can probably get her number from the club office."

"Well, I gave her my number, and she said she'll have her mother call me. I want to sit down face-to-face before I take this kid sailing. Would you like to join us?"

"Yeah. Sounds like a plan to me! Just let me know when and where."

We worked out some possible times, and then the call came later that night. My daughter answered the phone.

"Dad, it's for you!" One thing about Jenny is she is not subtle. I think the neighbors all knew I had a phone call.

"Hello. Bill Davis."

"Mr. Davis? This is Diane Rogers. I'm Emily's mother. She tells me that you offered to take her sailing?"

Whoa! That wasn't right. "Actually, she asked me if she could go sailing on my boat and I told her that I needed to speak with her parents first. Does Emily approach strange boats like this very often?"

Mrs. Rogers was quiet for a moment like she was piecing together some truths and half-truths. "Not as far as I know. This is new behavior and I have to tell you that I am not at all happy about it."

"Well, I can understand that. I have two of my own and if they had ever tried a stunt like this, they wouldn't have done it twice." I let us both take a moment. "I hear from friends that Emily is a very good sailor, and she sometimes sails on the one-designs out of the club. Can I suggest that if you are at all willing to let her sail on my boat, maybe we could get together to talk? I know she's probably in hot water and she should be, but everyone I speak with says good things about her. She's apparently a great kid, and if you're willing then I'd be happy to have her sail with me."

The seconds that followed seemed to go on forever.

"Well, I'd rather have her sailing with someone I know that a stranger. Okay. Where would you like to meet?"

"How about we talk over dinner. You bring Emily and I'll bring my three. Then if you're still agreeable, we can work out the details while we eat?"

I could hear the long sigh over the phone. "That does make sense. And if I agree to this, then I'll need you to enforce whatever rules I set down for her."

"Oh, by all means! I'm going to have a few of my own for her, and mine may be stricter than yours."

"I wouldn't bet on that!"

"No, I don't suppose you would. Why don't you pick the night and time?" We soon had it worked out. I told my three and they were all enthusiastic about joining us. Of course, they were enthusiastic anytime a dinner out was involved. I then called Joe and he agreed to meet us.

I would love to be able to accurately describe the look on Emily's face when they walked into the restaurant and saw Joe. It was the most wonderful combination of familiarity, enthusiasm, and sudden terror. She was busted and she knew it.

Diane introduced herself and added, "Of course, you already know Emily."

In turn, I introduced my three and ended with, "... and of course, Emily already knows Joe." Diane was looking at Emily and Emily was looking at the ceiling as she tried to see a way out. There was none. Let's say that the next fifteen minutes were interesting. It seems that Diane only knew a small fraction of what Emily was up to while she was working. Once she knew she was busted, Emily proceeded to confess it all.

The truth is she didn't say anything that was terribly concerning. She mostly confined her adventures to the one-designs. The girl was like Norm in Cheers, and everyone knew her name. She sailed with them all and had a well-earned reputation as a very capable sailor to the point of being a minor celebrity at the club. To her mother's great relief, she admitted that while she liked to walk the docks and look at the boats, I was the first person she had approached. Well, that's what she said anyway, and I think we all decided that we would sleep better if we chose to believe her.

Conversation at the table quickly divided into two parts with Emily holding court with my three while Diane, Joe and I tried to have a quieter conversation. The three of us soon took a table nearby where we could talk in private.

"Bill, I want to thank you for insisting on speaking to me first. If I had found out that she was out on a boat with some stranger, I'd have lost my mind."

"Well, if we're being completely honest, my first thought was that I might lose my freedom taking a young girl out on my boat without telling her parents. Needless to say, I still have a few concerns."

"Well to start with, I'm her only parent. Her father ran off about three years ago and it's just been the two of us since then."

I nodded. "Yeah. That's what the officer told me."

"The officer?" The mood of the table changed fast.

"Sorry. There's no need for alarm. I met an officer down by the dock after Emily left and I told him about meeting her. I wanted someone to know in case a twisted story started circulating. Anyway, he seemed to know both you and Emily."

Joe leaned in. "Was the officer named Daniels?"

"Yeah. That's him! Do you know him?"

Joe was chuckling by now. "Yeah. He's my nephew. Good kid."

The conversation continued on for a time. Diane took a cell phone photograph of my driver's license which I thought was entirely appropriate, so I took one of hers just to be sure that the scheming Emily wasn't passing off a ringer. Just to make it official, Joe also showed Diane his license since Emily was a frequent crew on his boat. By the time we got back to the big table, we had our plans in place and were of one mind.

I thought I had left three college-age young people to entertain a thirteen-year-old. Imagine my surprise when we got back to the table and found the four of them were now as thick as thieves like they'd known each other all their lives.

"Emily is coming over for dinner Friday!"

"Don't worry, dad. I'll drive over and get her."

"And she wants to go contra dancing with us sometime."

I looked over at Diane and she looked at me.

"Don't you think you should ask her mother?"

"Oh geez!" That was Jenny. Ever since she was little, she would say that whenever she was surprised or embarrassed. "Mrs. Rogers, would it be okay if Emily joined us for dinner on Friday?"

I couldn't tell if Diane was amused or shell-shocked. I know that I had lost control of the situation.

"I suppose that would be okay." Diane was half smiling and still trying to catch up.

I looked across the table at Emily who was smiling. "You haven't won yet, young lady." Oh, who was I kidding? "Your mother and I both have some rules for you going forward. The first rule we both have is we expect a good deal more honesty from you in the future. Your mother needs to know where you are at all times, and if I find you've broken that rule, you won't be sailing with me. Do we understand each other?"

Emily was looking deadly serious. "Yes, sir."

Good. At least I had the upper hand for a moment.

Now it was time for Diane to join the battle. "And I want to know where you're going and who you plan to be with BEFORE you leave the house, not after. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, ma'am. But if I go to the club, I don't know what boat I'll be sailing on until I get there."

She had us there. "Okay. In that one exception, if it's the club, I just need to know you're going. Anywhere else, I want to know who and I want to know in advance. And there will be no more approaching strange boats and strange men at the boat yard. Do you get me?"

Emily nodded and for a moment she looked very contrite. Then looking at the menu and speaking under her breath, she said, "He's not that strange."

My three thought that was hysterical and then instantly I no longer had the upper hand. Joe's laughter didn't help. Even Diane was smiling.

Dinner after that was a very enjoyable affair. Emily wanted my life's history and seemed intrigued when I told her about sailing Voyager up from Maryland. I softened the story about Sheila since the kids didn't need to relive that. Meanwhile, Joe brought Diane up to speed on some of her daughter's sailing exploits. My three gave Diane and Joe the short version of how their summers were shaping up, and all told, it turned out to be a rather delightful evening.

At the end of the evening, Diane and I sat down with Emily and laid down the law in great detail. Diane was not going to tolerate the same degree of the free-ranging lifestyle that Emily had been enjoying so far. I wasn't sure how long she would keep to those rules, so I emphasized that there was no place for her on my boat if she didn't. We ended the evening with clear agreements on the rules, and I felt a lot better about everything.

Can I tell you something? I know I'm just a divorced guy with a boat, but it felt good to be working with a partner again, cooperating, and agreeing to a path forward where a young person was concerned. It wasn't like when I was married, and I wasn't Emily's parent, but for a short time I felt some of that same comfort as if I was part of a team, and I liked it. I also liked Emily and her mother.

Friday rolled around and it occurred to me that I didn't know what Emily liked and didn't like, so I decided to hedge my bet with surf and turf, only my version was meatloaf and a salmon filet that I covered with brown sugar and some balsamic vinegar. One thing that Sheila taught me was to lightly fry some loose sweet Italian sausage meat and add it to the loaves to give it a little something extra. I mean, the marriage wasn't all bad. She made a good meatloaf. The frying draws out excess fat, but they say that fat is flavor. I just don't tell that to the girls. I roasted some carrots that I glazed at the last minute with some maple syrup and baked some potatoes in the bottom of the oven, so I felt I was covered one way or the other. There should be something for everyone.

Meanwhile, Bobby and Elena went to fetch Emily. They returned with a pleasant surprise and Diane in tow.

"I hope you don't mind. These two invited me and I'm afraid I was intrigued."

Intrigued. That's a nice word. There isn't much about my bachelor's apartment that is intriguing. "I'm delighted and the more the merrier! Can I get you something to drink?"

Jenny took the invitation personally. "Do we have any wine?"

I looked at her like she'd divulged an uncomfortable secret. Turning to Diane, I explained. "The girls are in college and they're almost old enough, so I let them have something in the house..." and then turning back to Jenny I added, "... but only in the house." She was smiling like the warning was wasted on her.

Diane thought the whole thing was rather funny. "I'll have whatever she's having" and that brought on a round of laughter from everyone old enough to remember the movie. It was definitely going to be an interesting night.

Pretty soon Diane joined me in the kitchen to help while the other four were laughing in the living room.

"It's a nice place you have."

"Don't kid a kidder. It's just a bachelor pad until I learn the area. I figured my first year might as well be made as simple as possible, but I didn't figure on having an apartment full for the summer."

"You're a lucky man. They're great kids."

I took a moment. "Yeah, they really are."

"If you don't mind me asking, you never said why you got divorced."

That gave me pause. "Well, you have a daughter who is free-ranging and I had a wife who was free-ranging, or at least she became that when Jenny went off to college."

"How did you deal with it?"

"Not very well, I suppose, but the only way I could. I set sail for Maine and left it all behind me."

"No payback? No baseball bat to a certain man's knees?"

That made me laugh. "No, that only happens in stories. She wanted what she wanted, and I couldn't live with it. So I gave her what she wanted and took what I needed. It turned out that what I needed was a new life away from betrayal."

"How did you find out?"

"About the betrayal? Oh, she was very forthcoming about that. She told me. She had some crazy notion that she'd earned it and that I should accept it. She hadn't and I didn't."

"Do you still hear from her?"

"Well, you can't have kids with someone and not hear from them or about them to some degree. She was at Bobby's graduation. She even brought the... she even brought George."

"Oh! So George is his name. What do your kids think of George."

I tried not to laugh too hard, but that was a question that I enjoyed. "Well, Bobby doesn't care for him. At least, I gather that's true since the first time he met George, he decked him with a sucker punch. Laid him out clean as you like right there on the floor from what I'm told. Jenny's not too keen on him, either."

Now it was Diane's turn to laugh. "I like your kids more all the time. Do you think they could visit my ex sometime?"

The conversation continued like that for a time. Diane's ex, Emily's father, was out of the picture. He'd just up and left with some woman he'd had on the side. Diane was divorced on grounds of abandonment, but they had no idea where he was. It made me wonder which of us was better off, me for knowing or her for not.

"So what are we having for dinner?"

"Meatloaf, salmon, carrots and potatoes with a salad."

"Ah, mom's surf and turf! She said she made meatloaf because of us kids and salmon for her and dad, but she always seemed to get a good bit of both."

When dinner was ready, we called the other four to the table. The dining room table in a bachelor's apartment doesn't seat six comfortably, so after some negotiation Diane and I decided to set up one of the smaller tables in the living room and we dined alone while the other four continued to amuse each other. It was actually a very delightful dinner. We talked about our careers. She told me about the challenges of raising a very independent young girl and I tried to explain with some delicacy the fears of raising an older daughter. She seemed to think that Jenny was gold and I needn't worry. That was kind of her, but I knew that I'd worry less when she had a husband to do the worrying for me.

Dessert was a store-bought apple pie with vanilla ice cream cut six ways. All told, dinner went over well and everyone seemed satisfied.

After dinner, Jenny and Elena gave Diane and Emily the nickel tour of the apartment which inspired a new round of questions. "The girls have my bed... Bobby sleeps in the guest room... yeah, I sleep on the sofa... the girls have orders to announce themselves before entering the living room first thing in the morning... no, they won't make that mistake again!" The four girls all thought that last bit was pretty funny, but I'm still embarrassed by the memory. I gave Diane the one-minute tour of my patio garden while she tried not to laugh, and after that the official tour was concluded.

"You have a very nice bachelor's apartment, Bill. It seems very... cozy."

I smiled and shrugged. "I'll remember that tonight when I'm sleeping on the sofa. It's 'cozy'."

Whatever else you might say, it seemed Diane approved of me and trusted me enough to take her daughter sailing. When the discussion turned to Saturday and going sailing in the morning, I made it a point to invite Diane not expecting her to agree, but she did. I gave her the usual briefing I give to all new sailors about clothing, weather, the challenges of marine toilets, and finished with "I can't guarantee there will be wind" and she seemed comfortable with it all.

Emily had to add her two cents. "Yeah, mom, Joe says that 'sailing' is a verb. It's something you do, not something you experience."

My three thought that was pretty funny while Diane seemed to have mixed feelings at being lectured by a thirteen-year-old. I thought "That's a good line!" and quietly filed it away for the future.

Saturday brought three very gratifying surprises. First, all three of my kids decided to join us. I was still a bit relieved by that. Second, we packed an assortment of sandwiches and drinks so that everyone seemed to find something that they liked. And third, the wind was up! We had a great day on the water sailing from one end of Casco Bay to the other while practicing the fine art of avoiding lobster pots and then turned east to reach open water. The seas were moderate, the wind was steady, and Voyager came alive! It was exactly the conditions she was built for.

Emily and Diane were enjoying themselves and took turns driving with Emily instructing her mother. I think it was about that time when I realized that this woman has the patience of a saint because her daughter was a demanding taskmaster. Emily had very high standards. I approved of those standards, but I wasn't sure her instructing skills were as finely tuned as her sailing skills.

"Lobster pot coming up on your port side, mom. No, other way! Go starboard! Mom! Port is left. Starboard is right. You go right by moving the tiller to the left. Geez, you almost hit it!"

It was then that I decided it was time to practice some man overboard drills because for the first time in a long while I thought we might need them if Emily kept it up. In a man overboard drill, you drop a white bumper overboard. A bumper is like a mooring float, but mine are about two feet long and about eight inches in diameter. The bumper plays the role of a sailor overboard. The helmsman turns the boat to sail across the wind, then tacks back along a parallel course to dip downwind of the fallen sailor before rounding up into the wind and coasting to the bumper's location. It's an excellent practice drill that builds skill and safety at the same time, and after a demonstration drill Diane seemed to take to it right away.

That also seemed to satisfy the young Captain Bligh.

Each person took their turn at the helm as I happily sat back and quietly monitored the traffic and our location. After her watch at the helm was over, Diane joined me by the cabin hatch, and we spent most of the rest of that day in conversation punctuated by the occasional drill with whoever was at the helm calling orders to tack or jibe. Pretty soon it was just the four of them handling the boat as Diane and I talked. They trimmed and flattened the sails just a little as the wind freshened and managed a few spinnaker sets and takedowns. There is nothing that compares with a broad reach under all sails in a good breeze and a following sea, and I think that maybe, just maybe, Diane was starting to understand the appeal. I wasn't wrong. Whether it was the joy of sailing or the desire to know her daughter was safe, Diane became a frequent crew on Voyager from that day forward.

As our time together grew, so did our relationship. In time, we started getting sideways glances from my three kids and hers until I began to wonder who was chaperoning who, but that was still in our future. On this first day out on the water together, we became something more than two separate families and something less than one.

A good day on the water ends in one of two ways: either you sit quietly in the cabin and prepare a simple meal as I did many nights while bringing Voyager north, or you go into town in search of something special. Tonight was no exception as the six of us found an unassuming restaurant that knew how to fix the perfect steak.

Let me tell you something. Emily might be a thirteen-year-old girl, but she can carve up and devour a slab of protein like a hungry wolf, smile, and carry on a conversation while doing it. As we ate and the conversation ranged from today's adventure to future exploits, I began to realize that my three were positively smitten with Emily and her with them. They were drawing her in like she'd been born to the family, and for her part she was loving it. I think this girl was born to have older siblings.

The next week Emily joined us for contra dancing. I tried to coax Diane into joining us, but she was skeptical and seemed a little worried that she might embarrass herself. She needn't have worried. Contra dancers show up for the fun and social aspects. Nobody judges. Still, I felt a certain confidence when Diane trusted us enough to take Emily away for a few hours and she had a blast!

We were already starting to know and be known, but by the time we left the dance Emily knew at least 20 people by their first names and that includes men and women older than me. "Did Don tell you about... Becky said the funniest thing... Toni and Helen said I was catching on very fast for a new dancer... Barbara said we should bring mom next week..." These were men and women older than her mother! The kid never ceases to amaze me.

Diane did join us the next week and every week after. It wasn't long before she was teaching me steps that I hadn't mastered. Okay, I have two left feet and I admit it, but it was fun having Diane teach me the steps. Everything I did with Diane was fun.

I didn't fully realize it then, but I was well on my way to gaining two more daughters. My three, as I was now thinking of them, were a functioning unit supporting each other, looking out for one another, and finishing each other's sentences. I stopped thinking of Elena as our guest and she became my olive-skinned daughter with the delightful accent. One way or another, my family was growing, and she would remain a part of it. Meanwhile, Emily was just slipping into the space between them like every little sister does.

In the week that followed, Diane and I took time to talk about our failed marriages. It was a topic that came up more than a few times as we compared our lives then to what it had been before. Those conversations gave me a greater perspective on how I was healing and my life was moving forward. It's hard to gain that perspective alone. When I would sit in my apartment on a quiet night when the kids were out, I'd think about how Sheila's betrayal had dropped me to my emotional knees and how I'd slowly climbed back up to stand again, but it wasn't until I tried to describe it to Diane that I began to realize that I was not only healing, but I was happy. That came as a surprise to me when I finally faced the reality of it. I... Was... Happy! I enjoyed my work, I enjoyed the people I worked with, I loved my kids, I still had my friends from back in Maryland, and I enjoyed living in Maine. I didn't know it yet, but I was also well on my way to having a girlfriend.

The thought actually made me laugh until Diane looked at me like I was a half bubble off and I had to explain it to her. I omitted the girlfriend part. I didn't know it at the time, but that was the night that she decided to start seeing Joe. I don't mean socially, although we did go sailing together frequently enough, but she began to see him professionally. She was still carrying issues and deep pain from her husband's abandonment of the family. She was also frightened by the reality of raising a teenage daughter on her own, although I thought she was doing a spectacular job.

Friday night dinners became a regularly scheduled occurrence after that first Saturday on the water. Diane offered to drive over with Emily, but Bobby was insistent. The Davis family taxi was a part of the service, so every Friday he and one of the girls would drive across town and get Diane and Emily and bring them to dinner.

Then one day Diane insisted on preparing the Friday dinner, so that night the Davis clan packed up a few things like wine and nibbles and we headed over to their place. Instead of Diane helping me prepare dinner, that night I was helping her and I liked it! Between dinners and sailing, we were starting to function like a well-organized machine, except this part of the machine had no idea where she kept anything and I was constantly asking, "Where are the dishes... where do you keep the serving spoons... should I get..." It was all part of the fun.

At the same time, the four of them were in the living room giggling and doing I-don't-know-what and I didn't care because with every dinner together and everyday sailing, I felt more like I had a family again.

So it comes as no surprise that Diane and I soon started seeing each other privately, and by privately, I mean dates. With four inquisitive, busybody kids, it was hard to keep this new development a secret. That's when I put my foot firmly into my mouth.

"Diane, how about this. With the summer and sailing, I had to shift my gym visits to evenings. You could join me, and then we could go to dinner after." In my defense, it had been a long time since I was dating.

"Are you saying that I'm fat?"

Oh shit! "No! It's just that I find it strangely relaxing, and then we could get dinner and have some quiet time together." I was on such thin ice!

After some explanation, she decided to give it a try, and we quickly found we enjoyed going to the gym together. Diane soon gravitated toward the Pilates and exercycle sessions where you pay someone to yell encouragement at you while I worked quietly on the machines. I never liked the whole football coach yelling environment, but I guess it's not as bad when a young girl in spandex is yelling out encouragement.

Well, that's not entirely true. There was one time as I waited for Diane to get out, and the women were filing out in a long procession that I did hear one woman whisper to another something like "Someday I'm going to kill that skinny little..." Well, you can guess the rest.

Two nights a week after work we'd go to the gym, shower, and get dinner. That worked for about two weeks before the kids figured it out. After that, we gave up trying to keep it a secret and settled for something between low-key and don't-ask-don't-tell. We tried at first to play it down, but they were having none of that. Remember I told you that in time I began to wonder who was chaperoning who? Well, for a while it became a game of "Who can make them blush the reddest" and the competition was unrelenting. I think one of them must have sat the others down and put a stop to it, but to this day I don't know who it was. It just stopped and we started getting comfortable, approving looks from the four of them.

So life took on a new form. There was contra dancing, family dinners, and sailing plus whatever time the old ones could carve out of the mayhem for a quiet night out together. Somehow in the mix, I still found time to go to work and occasionally meet my friends for breakfast. Diane became a frequent part of those early morning breakfasts as well, and before long my friends were her friends. Life was very good, but all things are destined to change, and our mayhem was no exception.

Not long after Diane and I were feeling settled into our new normal, I got the call and my former in-laws were coming up. They had grandchildren to see. So on a Thursday afternoon in late July I took off work early to quickly clean the apartment in time for their arrival. They've always been independent types and had rented a car so they could explore the coast in the coming week.

How can I describe their reaction the first time they saw my bachelor apartment. Was it shock? Concern? Amusement?

"Are you saying that all four of you live here? How do you do that?"

"Well, it's an adventure, mom." I had called her mom since Sheila and I became engaged, it didn't seem right to stop now.

"And just the one bathroom?"

"There are times when I almost don't believe it myself."

We talked for a time, and I briefed them on my new life. They wanted to know that I was well and happy, and I told them that I was.

"And Jenny's roommate is also living here this summer? How is that working out?"

"It's actually working out better than I expected. She's fitting right in and I almost feel like I have three kids now instead of two."

They didn't know very much about Elena, so I tried to bring them up to speed on how she came to join us.

"And you sleep on the sofa every night?"

"Well he's not going to make the young woman sleep there." At least dad seemed to understand.

By now I had solved the logistical problem of dinner seating and had a sturdy folding table that I brought out enabling all six of us to sit in the same room for dinner. The folding chairs were awful, but they served the purpose.

Bobby arrived home at about six and the girls shortly after eight. I had planned for a late-night dinner. While Jenny and Bobby were delighted to see their grandparents, I think Elena didn't know quite what to make of it at first. A few days earlier, she had asked me, "... and your ex-wife's parents and you still get along?" I know. I sometimes think it didn't make a lot of sense to me, either.

Well it took that first night with conversations flowing back and forth across the table, but it happened. I watched as grandparents and child drew each other in until there were three grandchildren at the table and two grandparents doting over each of them. By the time they were leaving, both new grandparents gave Elena a long hug and a kiss on the cheek. I think her position in the family was cemented on that day, but I wasn't fully sure until I saw the Christmas presents they sent her later that year. Yep, for better or worse, she was in it.

Friday, we did a few of the usual tourist things near Portland and that included lobster rolls and going to L. L. Bean at my mother-in-law's insistence. Dad liked it, too. "You know, I could really use this headlamp when I take the trash out at night."

If Thursday evening was interesting, Friday was surreal. Friday was our usual dinner night with Emily and Diane. Diane had tried to beg off with comments like, "You need time with your in-laws" but no one was having any of that including Emily. Once again, it was dinner in the apartment. Diane seemed nervous at first, but that didn't last, while Emily dived right in. There wasn't much that could scare that girl, but she had the other three for support and I think the grandparents saw that soon enough. I knew the night was a success when I walked them to their car and my mother-in-law said, "We like them! I hope we're going to see more of them in the future."

The rest of the weekend was spent playing tourist a bit further from home, and then Monday morning they were off to explore the state. They had reservations in Bar Harbor as well as tickets for a whale watch, and I gave them a short list of places to see and eat. Friday they were back in time for dinner with stories of their adventures. This time mom joined Diane in the kitchen, and the two of them prepared dinner as if they'd been cooking together all their lives while the grandkids divided their time between the kitchen and living room exchanging stories and laughing. It was a great night.

There was still one more adventure before summer came to an end. All those weekends and the occasional weeknight sailing had produced some very capable sailors in my family, so it was time for a short cruise. Now I told you before that Voyager was built for sailing and not for sleeping. The cabin was small, but adequate. I pitched the idea and there was support from all but Diane. She was nervous about the idea but soon adopted the view of "If they can, I can" and that made it unanimous.

We left on a Saturday morning with a gentle breeze and all sails set. I had decided to duplicate the same trip I'd made with Craig the year before. That thought gave me pause. Had it been a year already? So much had changed. We sailed east out of Casco Bay and then turned northeast to sail up the coast. The wind was from the west, so we set the spinnaker and everyone took their turn at the helm. As the breeze freshened, Voyager accelerated. By afternoon, the wind had once again veered east, so we dropped the spinnaker and tacked north past familiar places the grandparents had visited only a few weeks ago. We passed Port Clyde with the wind still strong, rounded Vinalhaven and set anchor along the western side of Deer Isle. It was a long and very satisfying day.

As the crew rested, I prepared dinner, and dinner was going to be breakfast. There is an art to cooking on an alcohol stove, but I'm no artist. Dinner would be breakfast burritos made from scrambled eggs, sausage, cheese, tomato salsa, and diced jalapenos for the brave. Hash browns were prepared in Voyager's tiny oven. There is nothing like a day at sea to raise an appetite, and dinner was devoured greedily.

That night after dinner, we all sat in Voyager's cockpit and watched the moon reflecting off the water. Except for the occasional fish slapping the surface, it was peaceful and everyone was content. There's no romance on a small boat with four young people watching your every move, but there was time for Diane to snuggle under my arm as we quietly watched the stars circle overhead.

When it was time, the four girls retired to the cabin as Bobby and I rigged the tent over Voyager's main boom. With a little help from inside the cabin, we rigged the wind scoop over the forward hatch that would drive fresh air through the cabin at night. We had brought sleeping bags, so Bobby and I each took a bench. With the tent and Voyager turning on her anchor, we'd stay dry even if it rained. Jenny and Elena each took a bunk under the cockpit while Diane slept on the main berth opposite the galley and Emily climbed into the pipe berth above. There aren't a lot of beds that are less comfortable than a foldout sofa, but Voyager's hard cockpit benches qualify.

Lying there, I could not help but laugh.

"Are you okay, dad? What's so funny?"

"I was just thinking of that movie, Jaws."

That seemed to alarm him slightly and he looked around. "What about it?"

"I think we're going to need a bigger boat!"

I heard the giggles come from the cabin and realized that they were listening. Oh well.

When late August arrived, it was time for Jenny and Elena to return to college. We all knew it was coming, but it was a somber morning when we packed their car for the drive south and waived goodbye. I looked over at Bobby, and I could see the disappointment in his face. He and Elena had grown close that summer and it wasn't hard to imagine what was going through his mind. What surprised me was that when I looked over at Diane and Emily, Diane looked as sad as me while Emily had tears running down her cheeks. That kid was losing her two older sisters and she felt it deeply.

"Okay! They'll be back, and for now we need to move forward. So, how about we go out for ice cream?"

Diane's response was the typical mom response. "Bill, it's eight in the morning."

I looked at Emily and a small smile was breaking through her tears. "Okay, then we'll just make it a single." And that is what we did.

Summer wasn't entirely over. There was more sailing with the winds of autumn approaching. As the air cooled, Joe started joining us and soon he brought his wife. Voyager was dryer and more comfortable than Joe's one design as the air and water started turning cold, so Voyager became very popular in the late days of autumn. We'd rig the dodger and wear warmer jackets as needed. Bobby was still living with me, and he even found time to go sailing with the old man, so some days there were two of us and some days there were five. There were still Friday night dinners when the girls somehow found time to call and check in, and if I'm honest, Friday nights were the highlight of my week.

Bobby and Elena gave up trying to hide their evolving relationship, so each call would end with Bobby taking the phone into another room to talk. Jenny would send me a text or email laughing at the two of them, but I think she was secretly thinking that maybe it was time to find someone worth holding onto.

Of course, there were weekends when one or the other or both would go home to visit their mother. They still loved her but sometimes made glancing statements about her poor judgement. I never asked, but as I grew happier with my life, I did wish that Sheila would somehow find the happiness that she seemed to be searching for. She was in many regards her own worst enemy that way. George had long ago moved into the house which made the visits by the kids tense at times, but I told them to try to accept it. "So long as your mother is happy, we should be happy for her." Of course, I knew her happiness wouldn't last, but we can wish.

With two daughters out of the house, Diane and I tried to ramp up our alone time. Bobby was out and about, but Emily was too mischievous to leave on her own for too long. We started having quiet conversations about our mutual frustration, and I began to think that if we didn't find a way to spend a night without prying eyes that one of us might just explode. And I was afraid it would be me. I am here to tell you that being a single father with three adult kids and no love life is one thing, but being a single father with a girlfriend and no love life is something entirely different.

The solution came on a Friday night when I was due at Diane's place for dinner. I brought the wine and a French apple pie that I'd made the night before along with Emily's favorite chocolate milk. I handed Diane the wine and pie adding, "I managed to score something special for Emily" and held up the bottle of milk.

"Oh, that was thoughtful! She will love that when she gets back tomorrow."

I felt good about remembering until... "Did you say tomorrow?"

Diane was grinning like the cat that caught the canary. "Yes. I said tomorrow."

"Where is she?"

"She's having a sleep over at Joe and Marie's house. They're making smores."

"And she's not due back until tomorrow?"

"Uh huh. I told them to make it late tomorrow morning."

My head was spinning. "Does that mean we have the place all to ourselves?"

Diane was getting the giggles. "It does. What do you think we should do about that?"

"I'm thinking we could skip dinner if that's alright."

"Good! Because I didn't fix dinner tonight." She was walking slowly toward me. "Although I have some granola to snack on if you're hungry and some leftover..."

I didn't let her finish. I kissed her and I kept on kissing her as we seemed to melt together.

When we broke our kiss, she looked at me with that smile like the Cheshire cat. "Did you bring pajamas?"

"No?"

"Good! I wasn't planning on wearing any, either."

And that is how Bill Davis and Diane Rogers finally managed to boldly go where neither of us had gone in a very long time.

We had set the alarm for 9 AM thinking that we didn't want Emily catching us in bed. That revelation was going to require some preparation and was still off in the much-anticipated future. The alarm caught us... um, busy, and moments later the alarm clock flew across the room as if launched by some unseen force. Oh hell, I hit it with the back of my hand, and it struck the wall across the room. Diane laughed and we resumed our efforts to scare the neighbors into dialing the police. The neighbors were in another house twenty-five yards away, but we gave it our best effort. Who knew sex could be such fun?

By the time Joe and Marie arrived with Emily running through the door, we were settled at the kitchen table eating pie and just staring at each other like two people who had the biggest secret in all the world.

"Bill, you're here! Joe and Marie taught me to make..." Emily froze in mid-sentence. She looked from me to her mother and back to me, and back to her mother. Then with a knowing grin, she just said, "Never mind" and walked into her room to unpack her bag.

"Well, you two look relaxed. Are you sufficiently rested?"

I looked at Joe and tried to think of something clever to say, but my brain was in a delirious fog and all I could do was nod my head. Marie and Diane seemed to think it was all quite funny as Marie gave Diane a high five.

"Can I get you two some coffee?" Diane was trying to play hostess, but mostly intent on saying thank you.

Joe answered. "Yes, that's what we need after spending twelve hours with a precocious teenager - a stimulant."

Marie said yes, and the four of us sat at the table eating pie and drinking coffee while we danced around the elephant in the room and talked about everything other than what we all knew was true. At least, Joe and I danced. Marie and Diane were giving each other knowing glances and I began to think there was an entire conversation taking place at that table that I knew nothing about.

"If you want my professional opinion," Joe was looking at me, "don't even try." Marie elbowed his arm and he just gave me a knowing smile.

He was right. Some secrets are dangerous and even destructive. I learned that well enough in my past marriage, but I began to think that maybe some would work to my benefit. Only time would tell.

Joe and Marie didn't stay for lunch and Diane and I weren't particularly hungry, so I retreated to the living room while Diane went to talk with Emily. Soon enough Emily dropped down next to me on the sofa with a worried look on her face.

"Are you going to leave now?"

I misunderstood completely. "Well, I don't need to work today, and I'm in no hurry, but at some point your mom might have plans for the two of you."

My answer was not satisfactory. "I mean now that you've slept with my mom, are you going to leave us?"

Her question hit me in the face like a sack of cement. I suddenly saw all the pain and loss that she hid so well with her inquisitive nature and her giggles. I saw why she attached herself so tightly to my kids and why for so long now she had looked at me with those big, questioning eyes. She was thinking about her own father and how he left her and her mother.

"I guess we're going to have a very adult conversation now. Is that it?"

She nodded.

I had to say this right because I had a bad feeling if she misunderstood, she wouldn't tell me. "A few months ago I was a single parent with a daughter and a son. Then my daughter brought Elena into my life and soon it seemed that I had two daughters and a son. Then you came along and you brought your mother, and pretty soon I was feeling like I had three daughters and a son and a woman that I wanted to spend as much time with as she would allow. All of those new feelings have only grown stronger."

She seemed to look more optimistic as I spoke. "Now this is the hard part about being an adult. It takes time to sort things out and be sure. Every decision effects many people, and it takes knowing someone better than you know yourself and learning beyond a doubt that you can trust them no matter what happens. I'm learning that about your mother and I think that she's the kind of woman that I want to build my life around. Can you give us time to work that out and be sure about each other?"

Emily was smiling now and she nodded.

"Good. So that's how I figure it is right now, and if you and your mother don't grow tired of me then I plan to be around. Is that fair?"

For that I got a big hug.

"Sounds fair to me!" We both jumped as Diane walked into the room and sat on the other side of Emily. "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation mostly because I was standing behind the wall listening."

Emily giggled at that.

It was now Diane's turn. "So what do you think? Can you give us time to see if this works?"

Emily nodded enthusiastically.

"And do you think you can stand to have Bill around more often?"

"Yes!" That earned Diane another bigger hug.

With no more than that, our conversation moved on and we sat and listened as Emily regaled us of tales of her adventure with Joe and Marie. As she spoke, memories of my own two from when they were younger flooded back into my mind and I relived those years before life became complicated and love became a struggle.

Winter wasn't far away and there was a lot to do, so we grabbed lunch on the road and spent that afternoon getting some new winter clothes for a certain growing young woman until it was decided that she was going to be the best dressed thirteen-year-old in her class. Then we grabbed some provisions and headed for my place. Diane and I had decided that there was a big difference between Emily knowing and Emily seeing, so it would be some time and require some preparation before I spent the night while Emily was in the house. That came not long before Thanksgiving. In the meantime, Emily had a few more sleepovers at Joe and Marie's. We weren't fooling her, but once again we all adopted a policy of don't-ask-don't-tell.

A few weeks later over dinner, the four of us discussed plans for the remainder of the year. It was about time for Voyager to be pulled for winter storage. That was a sad day, but I had more hands than last year to help scrub her bottom and clean her up. We took the sails back to my place for storage and a little maintenance. There were just a few stitches that needed tending.

We also discussed my future furniture projects and Emily announced that she now needed a proper adult's bureau. Okay. That was a bigger undertaking than I'd attempted before, but I was game. Bobby asked if he could join me and get some help. He was also thinking about making something this winter. When we pressed him, he finally admitted that he had in mind something along the lines of a simple jewelry box. With three nods all around, we decided that we didn't need to press the issue. Emily chose cherry, and Bobby chose birdseye maple. I warned Bobby of the difficulties of finishing maple and suggested that some tests were needed before he turned raw wood into a finished product, and he quickly agreed. Looking at Diane, I asked without speaking.

"Surprise me!"

The other two laughed. They understood. Oh yeah, she wasn't going to make it easy for me. You might think I'd follow Bobby's lead with a jewelry box, but that would be for later. It may not sound romantic, but I soon settled on a comb back Windsor chair made from cherry with white ash spindles. If I gave it a natural finish with oil and wax, the colors would age gracefully, and it would fit just about anywhere. Maybe I was being too practical, but I hoped she would like it. I took me until almost Christmas to complete, but she loved it, and Emily loved her bureau. The Rogers girls were pleased.

It was no coincidence that Bobby headed home for Christmas that year as he did need to deliver a jewelry box to someone. He never said how it was received, but his sister told us that Elena was over the moon with pride. Unbeknownst to us, there was also a jeweled necklace in the box just in case birdseye wasn't her favorite. Smart boy - he bought insurance.

That fall I continued my hunt for a new place to live. The apartment was comfortable again and I was once again back in my own bed, but the future was looking crowded. Work was going well and I'd earned a nice promotion that put some more resources into my account. The divorce was settled and I had my share of the community property which meant that I was free to make decisions. Sheila came out of it well enough, but I was far from impoverished and far from retirement, so I had options.

I quietly told my realtor that I wanted to expand my search to include homes with more bedroom potential and maybe look further from the water in case I was pricing myself out of my budget. That initiated a conversation that had nothing to do with real estate, but it ended with "I'm happy for you, Bill. You deserve someone that makes you happy." Between my kids, Emily, Joe and Marie, I was starting to think that everyone was looking out for me and maybe trying to give me a not-so-subtle hint.

I told myself repeatedly that I was going to take my time and be sure. I would wait at least a year and give us both time to know each other beyond any doubt. Then Joe got hit at the intersection of Washington and Ocean Avenues when one car making a premature left turn collided with another going straight forcing the latter out of control until it jumped the curb hitting a mild-mannered therapist who was just waiting to cross. We all went into crisis mode without being asked. For the next week, Diane was seldom far from Marie's side, and I was doing what I could to support them both. By then most of my friends knew Joe and were also enlisted into service along with Joe's other friends who I had never met.

Joe was in rough shape. The car hit him on the left side and threw him, but not before breaking his left leg and arm along with a few ribs and knocking him out cold. For two days there was fear of possible brain damage and damage to his spine, but thankfully those fears proved wrong.

While Marie and Diane stood watch over Joe, the rest of us turned their living room into a bedroom complete with a hospital bed and air mattress. We decided to wait until we were told a Hoyer would be necessary, and thankfully it was not. That meant that with a little assistance, Joe could find his way to the bathroom which would greatly preserve whatever dignity he still had. It also meant that he was just able enough to climb the few steps to his door making a ramp unnecessary even though he left the hospital in a wheelchair with orders to "Take it easy for a few weeks." He was going to be okay, but he was sore as hell for a while.

What I saw over those two weeks changed my view of a lot of things. Friends and friends of friends came together for one of their own, and even the children of those friends pitched in. While some of us were running around securing a hospital bed and such, there were teenagers cutting the lawn and weeding the flowerbed while others cleaned house. It was like an army of volunteers had taken up a mission without a general in sight. It was just people stepping up to help a friend, and Diane was in the middle of it. When she wasn't at work, she helped Marie and watched over Joe even though she'd only known them for a few months.

When Joe was finally home, we all took turns preparing meals. Marie tried to tell us they were fine, but you could see the strain that nearly two weeks in the hospital had put on her. We simply didn't take no for an answer and filled her fridge and freezer with food.

It was somewhere in all of that while I stood back and watched as Diane, this woman that I didn't even know not so many months ago, stepped up and cared for people who were themselves strangers until recently. I knew that this woman was someone I needed to have in my life for as long as I lived. There was no going back. There were no second thoughts. I went out the next day and started looking for a ring.

You know men know next to nothing about rings, right, and least of all engagement rings? I soon realized that I didn't even know her ring size. So I did what I had to do and took Emily into my confidence. She soon produced her mother's favorite ring which we quickly had measured, and then Emily returned it so Diane would be none the wiser. I now had an accomplice, and we set about searching for the perfect engagement ring.

The saleswoman held up what I thought was a very tasteful ring. "This is a very nice 1.0 carat diamond in a tasteful setting. Do you think she would like this?"

I looked at Emily and she shook her head.

"Here we have a lovely 1.3 carat marquise cut diamond. It would be a bit more distinctive without being too flashy."

I looked at Emily. She was unconvinced.

"I can see I'm speaking to the wrong customer. Young lady, what is your mother's birthday?"

"March 17."

"And sir, what is your birthday?"

I was completely confused, but I answered. "December 12."

"Perfect. Might I suggest that we can make you a lovely engagement ring with a very tasteful round cut diamond set between aquamarine and blue topaz stones to represent your birthdays?"

Emily was nodding enthusiastically.

I liked the sound of that. I took a deep breath and asked, "What would that cost?"

"With the other two stones, you don't want the diamond to be too large. I think a 1.5 carat diamond would be appropriate. There are lovely man-made stones available now that are identical in every way to those that are dug from the ground. We could provide you with that ring for..."

I took a deep breath. That new house was looking smaller by the minute.

"Dad, this is mom we're talking about. She deserves it."

Did she just call me dad? "Okay, that sounds lovely. If you could give me an idea of what that would look like with the actual stone sizes, I think we can make a final decision."

I walked out of that store with my bank account lighter, but it was a very good day. I liked our choice of ring, the store seemed genuinely honest and helpful, and Emily called me dad. Yes, it was a very good day.

I'd made up my mind, but it would take several weeks for the ring to be finished, and I had no definite plans about how to do this. I'd only asked one woman to marry me one time and look how that turned out. Still, I'd made the decision, and I had time to figure it out. My secret lasted two whole days and thinking back I'm surprised it took them that long. Emily told Bobby the first chance she got, and then Bobby called the other two. I learned that the word got out when I started getting unsolicited advice from the four of them. The advice came individually and collectively starting with my three when they scheduled a group video chat where I was the man in the middle. I didn't ask for advice, but that didn't stop them. So I tried to regain control of the situation, but by now you know how well that works for me. I had one successful directive, and it went something like this: "If Diane finds out because any one of you blabs to her or in front of her, WE will not be happy!" I tried using the "royal we" just to sound authoritative. They laughed, but as far as I know, nobody let the secret out to Diane.

That's not to say they didn't tell everyone else! Even Joe and Marie found out. Emily is one awful blabbermouth! How she kept from telling her mother is beyond me. Anyway, they told me that I was nuts if I didn't close the deal and the sooner the better. I promised them I was working on it. That's when Joe put on his therapist hat and said, "Remember, Bill, perfection is the enemy of progress." Yeah. I knew that. I figured it was only a matter of time before my friends in Maryland called to lecture me, but I still didn't know how I was going to get this done.

It took two weeks to get the ring and now I felt I was on the clock. How to do this? Should I try a restaurant over dinner and in front of strangers? On a private stroll by the harbor? Dial the kids and let them listen in? I ruled out bed. I did not want her telling the kids we were naked when I proposed.

It was a Friday night about ten days after I got the ring. We were having our usual Friday night dinner, and that night it was just Diane, Emily, and me and their place. I had the ring with me, but I wasn't planning on asking that night. I was still trying to figure out the perfect opportunity. We finished dinner and were getting dessert when Emily announced that she was going to her room to do homework. That wasn't like her on a Friday night. I followed her to the stairs to make sure she was alright and she started shooing me back into the kitchen.

"What are you doing? Tonight's the night. Do it already! Go! Get in there and do it!"

I was taking orders from a teenager.

As I turned toward the kitchen she whispered, "And don't blow it! We're all counting on you."

There's nothing like the confidence of a thirteen-year-old to fill a man with... confidence.

I suggested that we skip dessert. Dinner had been more than enough, and we retired to the living room to relax.

"Bill, are you okay?"

"Yeah. Why do you ask?"

"Well, you just seem like you're not yourself tonight. Is anything bothering you?"

I am never going to keep a secret from this woman!

"Well, I confess there is one thing that's been on my mind."

"If you want to talk about it, I'll be happy to listen."

It was now or... sometime later, but it might as well be now. I took a deep breath and got down on one knee.

"Bill?" She looked worried.

"Diane, you are the most amazing woman I have ever met. You're bright and funny, but more than that you are loving and caring. Whenever I'm with you, I feel whole, and I think you make me a better man. I know you make me happy. I want to spend the rest of my life with you if you'll have me." I held out the ring for her to see and now it was her turn to take a deep breath. "Would you consent to be my wife?"

Okay, it was old school, but it was sincere.

She hesitated for just a moment and scared the life out of me. Then "Yes! Yes, Bill, I'd love to marry you!" That's when she threw her arms around my neck and tackled me to the ground. Somewhere in the laughter we managed to get the ring on her finger and then we heard "Yes! Finally!" come from the stairs. We both looked over to see Emily standing there with that big grin on her face.

"You knew?" I think Diane was as much surprised as amused.

"Yeah, she knew. And she told EVERYBODY!"

"Who's everybody?"

"I mean everybody. I'll be surprised if her school bus driver doesn't know."

All the while Emily is standing there looking very proud of herself.

"You might as well know that she helped pick out the ring. It wasn't a task that could be entrusted to me."

That started Emily giggling, and as Diane and I struggled to get back onto the sofa I said, "Okay, young lady, come here."

She suddenly seemed a little confused and concerned. You see, I had made a second trip back to that same jeweler a few days after I ordered the ring.

"Since you helped me select the ring and you're an important part of the family I'm marrying into, I got you this" and with that I handed her a slightly larger blue velvet box than the one that had carried her mother's engagement ring. For the first time in her life, Emily was speechless. "Go on. Open it." She took the box and slowly opened the hinge to find a necklace with a very nice garnet set in a simple silver mounting. "Your birthday is January 23, and the garnet is your birthstone, so I wanted you to have this. If I'm going to be a part of this family, then I'm going to be a part forever. I won't leave. I will be here for as long as God allows. That's a promise, and every time you see this stone, I want you to remember that promise. I am making a lifetime commitment to your mother and you. I'm not going anywhere."

Maybe I said too much. The poor kid broke down crying and then leaned into the two of us with an arm around each and wept. It's been years now and hardly a day goes by that I don't see her wearing that necklace.

After all the tears were dry and everyone was smiling, Emily did eventually head off to bed. Of course, she had to get in the last word, so as she climbed the stairs she called out, "Don't make too much noise tonight. I'm trying to sleep!" Little smart ass.

I looked at Diane and said, "I wasn't really planning..." but she just shushed me.

"It's time." That was all she said and the two of us headed off to celebrate our engagement with the smallest amount of privacy two people could ask for.

In the morning I called Jenny and Elena on a video chat. The congratulations lasted about twenty seconds before Diane appeared over my shoulder. I was soon sitting out of view as Diane retold the story with running questions from the girls. Emily appeared and joined in the conversation showing off her necklace and retelling her role in it all. One of the girls managed to draw Bobby into the call, and then the whole story was retold with running commentary. I started to think that Joe and Marie might join the call at any minute, but thankfully that was reserved for later. The call ended with a harmonious "Good job, dad!" from the girls and a "Took you long enough, dad!" from Bobby. Oh, just wait until it's his turn! I am going to bust his chops...

Once order was restored, I turned to the two women in the room and asked, "So, what should we do today?" That earned me a powerful kiss from Diane and two hugs, but I never got an answer. Little did I understand at the time, but there were phone calls to make, people to inform, and stories to be retold. In between each call, the two new women in my life would compare notes and discuss the next call. I got kisses and words of appreciation, but it was clear to me that I was largely superfluous at that point. I needed to be there; I needed to represent, but not much more was expected of me. It was so much easier the first time, but don't ever tell anyone that I said that.

In the weeks that followed, there were more calls and video chats. My three were introduced to Emily's cousins and that began a running back-channel communication as everyone got to know everyone else, and they all had opinions on how well I'd handled the proposal. To this day I can't quite tell you whether the ongoing celebration is entirely normal for this family or was motivated at least in part by how Diane's first marriage ended, but in time everyone seemed to decide that I was a good choice and had staying power. The fact that I had left my first marriage didn't make that decision any easier, but after some explanation I found that everyone was universally on my side.

Joe and Marie joined my coworkers in support and approval, and with every announcement the celebration around us seemed to grow. Even the various young men and women I'd met through my kids took time to congratulate us. I made exactly one call to Maryland to tell Craig and Gloria the news, and then it took about a half hour before the calls started coming in. Word spread quickly around the old home and for the next few days I was getting calls of congratulations and making promises to include them in the invitations. If just half of the people who wanted an invitation came, there would be a virtual caravan driving up I-95.

I even got a sad, but generous, congratulations from my ex-wife. I thanked her and I meant it. I was past the point of anger and felt a genuine desire that she would find the happiness that I had found. She did years later long after George was gone.

Diane spent the next few months planning as Emily offered opinions on everything. We agreed on a simple wedding with friends and family, and despite all the plans we somehow managed to keep it that way. The wedding was in early May well after mud season had passed. After much consideration, we decided to have a backyard reception at Diane's place with a tent large enough in case it rained. Her house wasn't big, but she had a spacious back yard. Joe and Marie stepped up to play host just to ensure that everything came together as planned with a half dozen friends stepping up to assist them. Again, a small army of young people led by Bobby saw to it that the yard was mowed and the flower beds had some early color in them. I've never known a wedding reception to be described as relaxing, but somehow with all the help stepping up this one was. We laughed and danced and celebrated, and when the time was right, we escaped as the party went on into the late hours. It was exactly as we had hoped.

By now you're probably wondering about those house plans I had. I gave them up. There was no point. Diane and I talked and decided that whatever memories the old house held for her, we would create new memories. So we repainted and repaired and then we added on. The standalone garage became my workshop, and the new addition became an attached garage with two more bedrooms above it. That meant four bedrooms and that was enough for now. When the kids got married and wanted to visit, we'd figure it out. That meant we continued to live within walking distance of the harbor, which was interesting. Diane was the one that first brought up Voyager and said very simply, "Just because we're getting married does not mean you are selling the boat." I was never planning on selling it, but it was gratifying to hear.

So now I am once again a happily married man, only this time I think it will last. We have four kids, a house, and a boat. We sail and garden in the summers while I make furniture in the winters with the odd day on skis traversing the woods and fields of my adopted state. Our friends are a source of constant pleasure, and now Elena's parents make the trip from Greece every year to visit. My job is satisfying. My life is rewarding. It doesn't get any better. I still haven't tried Old Bay on a lobster, but Craig did and he wasn't impressed. Not every idea is a good idea, but all told I could not ask for more.

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As I wrote this, I went back to parts 1 and 2 to keep things consistent. Now that this is complete, I realize that I've left big unanswered questions. One of those questions is "What happened to Bill's parents, the kid's grandparents?" Of course, not that I mention it, I may need to figure that out myself. So it looks like I might have more to write, and if I'm honest, I'll admit that does not bother me. I like these characters and I wouldn't mind spending more time with them.