[[[-IF4-P17.TXT-]]]
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Island Fever 4: Paradise
Written by: JeremyDCP@hotmail.com
M/F, F/F and a whole lot more
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Chapter 17: "Genealogy"
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-*- Sunday, June 14, 2015 -*-
-*- 41,000 Feet Over The Atlantic Ocean -*-
I awoke to the sound of running water and took a moment to
figure out why I was not home in my own bed back in Sandvika.
There was a flat-panel television monitor embedded in the
wall at the foot of this unfamiliar, yet highly comfortable
bed, with an American sporting event blaring away on it.
Game 4 of the NBA Finals between the Golden State Warriors
and the Cleveland Cavaliers, which actually took place three
days prior, was being played in a continual loop. I watched
the end of the game two hours ago; Golden State won, 103-82.
I stretched. My body felt loose and relaxed and sore,
all mixed together in the most wonderful way. There were
four small, circular windows, made of triple-layered acrylic
plastic, to my immediate left, the sun beaming brightly
through them. A set of women's clothing - a pair of jeans,
a tank-top, bra, panties, shoes and sneakers - were folded
in a nice, neat little stack on top of the adjacent recliner.
To my right, the washroom door was partially open and there
was the unmistakable sound of Lily Allen, the famed British
pop musician, playing from the in-shower radio. Actually, I
think the music woke me more than the running water did.
Hmmmmm... yes. I was aboard our private family jetliner,
an _Airbus A319 ACJ_, and was en route from Oslo, Norway to
the Dayton International Airport in Vandalia, Ohio. Yay!...
chalk up another 4,000 miles of airline travel for me. This
plane had been custom-built from front to back. Several of my
wives dubbed it a _flying hotel_ because it had nearly every
amenity that one could find in a five-star resort. I spared
no expense on it and was quite happy with the result. This
luxury bedroom was just one of its many highlights.
Unlike previous transoceanic excursions, however, the great
majority of the ladies - as well as both of my children - were
still home in Norway. In fact, aside from my outstanding
personal flight crew (Captain Mike, his wife Carolyn and her
sister Barbara, and co-pilot Craig), the only other person on
this eight hour jaunt across the mighty Atlantic Ocean was my
precious and (most) newly pregnant wife, Lindsay.
After informing me two days ago that she was expecting
(due date: February 15, 2016), Lindsay decided that instead
of telling her mother and three sisters the wonderful news
via _Skype_ and video chat on the Internet, she much rather do
so _in person_. It took some serious prodding and a whole lot
of sweet talk on her part (and several hundred battings of her
eyelashes), but Lindsay was somehow able to convince me to
round up my personal flight crew and compensate them nicely
to escort the two of us on yet another long, daunting flight
so she could break the news to her family face-to-face.
Hey, I was still feeling remnants of jet lag of our trip
from Peru to Oslo from just last weekend. How could I have
possibly allowed Lindsay to talk me into this?
Lindsay and I were going to pop in unexpected and surprise
her family, who lived just north of Cincinnati. Several of
the others considered coming along with us (especially Trish,
of course). In the end, however, it was decided that Lindsay
and I would go on this mini, five-day vacation by ourselves.
I had family in the Cincinnati area, too. Everyone figured
that a private get-away for two, with the added opportunity to
re-connect with loved ones, would be an excellent way for
Lindsay and I to celebrate our _pregnant joy_ together.
On the television monitor, I watched Steph Curry of the
Golden State Warriors sink yet another 3-point shot before
turning my attention to the open washroom door to my right.
The maddeningly catchy, eccentric hip-hop tone of Lily Allen -
Lindsay's favorite musician (for the time being, at least) -
was overlapping the sound of running shower water. The pop
star was singing about _the filth that took away my license_.
I was a tad curious, I admit, but it did not really matter
to me why Lindsay had chosen to take a shower at some 41,000
feet in the atmosphere. I checked to make sure the bedroom
door was secure and locked, then quickly shed my clothing and
tip-toed into the adjacent washroom with a purpose. I pulled
the shower curtain open enough to deftly slip in behind
Lindsay, who turned toward me in total surprise. "Whoa.
WHOA! You're in the shower with me."
"Is that okay? I can leave."
Lindsay smiled and grabbed my arm. "Don't you dare."
"Bossy. But okay."
The hot water cascaded down Lindsay's shoulders as she
looked up at me. "It's strange. I was just thinking about
how awesome it would be if you popped in here unannounced,
Jeremy, and joined me!" Her dreamy, bliss-blue eyes scanned
my body in appreciation and her hands followed eagerly,
gliding across my now-wet skin. "And now here you are," she
beamed. "With me. Good afternoon, by the way. Or is it
still morning in whichever time zone we are flying in at the
moment?" Lindsay went up on her tiptoes for a steamy kiss.
"I get so confused during these transoceanic flights!"
"Morning or afternoon, doesn't matter," I murmured upon
her sweet mouth, passion overtaking my senses fast and hard.
Our kiss intensified until it was a tangle of tongues that
only served to arouse me even further. "Turn around."
Lindsay teased the outline of my jaw with a fingertip and
gazed dreamily into my eyes for several, long seconds, but
ultimately did as she was told. Very submissive, indeed.
Pooling my hands with the shower gel, its scented fragrance
of citrus berries flooded my senses as I went about lathering
up Lindsay's body, relishing the soapy slickness of her skin
combined with the hot water. Soon, the steam in the washroom
came from more than just the faucet. My touches turned more
intimate and Lindsay's breathing became somewhat labored.
"You're good at this," Lindsay murmured, closing her eyes
as I covered her breasts with soap, massaging and lathering
generously, moving my thumbs over and across her tiny nipples.
I did not linger, though. I kept my hands moving, always
in motion, never stopping in one place for too long. Once my
hands eventually dipped between Lindsay's thighs, she quickly
braced herself against my shoulders. But again I moved on.
Teasing at its absolute finest!
"Oh, you're also a little cruel today, I see," Lindsay
breathed, though still smiling in spite of the disappointment.
"Hand me the soap now?" was her request.
"Oooooh boy," I sighed, rolling my eyes. "I get to smell
like fruity berries for the rest of the day!"
Lindsay reciprocated in kind and then some, moving her
hands across every inch of my body, taking just as much as
giving, until I was turned on and aching, yet needing more.
Lindsay glanced downward for a moment and gently wrapped
her fingers around the width of my hard, throbbing cock. She
offered a little squeeze and gazed back up at me, saying in a
whisper, "God, I love your body, Jeremy."
"Yeah?" Not the most articulate response, but it was all
I could really manage for the time being. My brain was
otherwise scrambled, my senses engaged with this intoxicating
woman who stood totally nude before me in the shower and the
magic she worked with her hands.
The water was turning cold, prompting us to finish up and
dry off, both of us still very aware of each other. "We have
plenty of time left before we're anywhere close to Dayton,"
I pointed out, walking backward toward our skyborne suite.
"What if Carolyn or Barbara come into the bedroom to check
and see if we need anything, only to find us having sex?"
Lindsay fretted, referring to the two stewardesses.
"They won't," I promised her. "I told them we wanted total
privacy today and would let them know if we need anything at
all. I think those two have a pretty easy job today."
Lindsay motioned with her head toward the direction of the
shower. "You and I should do that every morning. Totally."
Ten minutes later, with me inside her, Lindsay found my
eyes with hers and held on tight as I coaxed and teased and
drove her into blissful oblivion. I had eased her thighs
apart and thrusted steadily against her, over and over again.
Watching Lindsay try to control herself was a huge turn-on in
and of itself. I proceeded to rock her hard and furiously
beneath me. Our time in the shower had us both primed and
ready, and the payoff was going to be monumental.
Lindsay grasped the headboard in preparation. With a
quiet cry, the climax washed over my pregnant, 20-year-old
bride in a gorgeous display. She actually shimmered, I
realized, my heart clenching at the wondrous visual. I let
my own rapture loose in the process, echoes and waves of
blissful orgasm overcoming my soul and making my head spin.
I rolled onto the mattress next to Lindsay, amazed at what
she and I could do together. Given, we took a shower and
made love somewhere in the stratosphere, but that was one of
the perks of owning your own aircraft, right?
I stared at Lindsay on the pillow next to me, feelings of
love and admiration circulating all throughout my being.
Lindsay was so many things to me - wife, angel, goddess,
mother-to-be - wrapped up into one glorious, little package.
"You're kind of amazing, you know that?"
Lindsay kissed my neck. "Amazing enough to stay here in
bed for the rest of the day and night, even after our flight
finally touches down in Ohio?"
"Tempting, hot stuff. But no dice. You're not dragging
me 4,000 miles just so we can have sex and cuddle. You have
your family to visit. I have mine. We see yours tonight."
Lindsay grinned lazily and pushed herself up onto her
elbow. "Did you just call me hot stuff?"
I felt the blush hit my cheeks. It did sound sort of
ridiculous now that I played it back within my mind.
"Pshhhhh. No. I would have never done that."
"You did too! You called me hot stuff, and now that's
going to be my name forever. Just wait until Krissy finds
out. Hot stuff this, hot stuff that... I will never hear
the end of it. I kind of like it!"
"You're imagining things, and you're crazy."
"Maybe," Lindsay smirked. "But if this is crazy, I want
to always be crazy."
I traced a finger along Lindsay's collarbone as the
butterflies within my stomach fluttered furiously. "I feel
a little crazy when I'm with you too, honey. I like it. I
feel as if I'm always at home with you, and comfortable,
and constantly turned on, and laughing all the time."
"Yeah?" Lindsay murmured, her eyes dancing. God, I loved
it when those pretty blue eyes danced.
"Yeah. And I have to tell you, it's the best feeling in
the world." I brushed a heavy clump of wet hair away from
her forehead. "Being with you like this."
* * *
I thought the absolute world of our personal flight crew
and considered them friends much more than I did employees.
After Lindsay got the idea that she wanted to tell her family
about the baby face-to-face, I called Mike, the crew's pilot
and captain, on Friday night and asked him if he could help us
out on incredibly short notice again. He was out to dinner
with his wife (Carolyn) and her sister (Barbara), both of
whom served as his stewardesses. Mike said we could leave in
the morning (Saturday) if that was what we wanted. It was
neither a concern nor a hassle to him. We opted for Sunday.
Our entire family had such a positive experience with
Mike, Carolyn, Barbara and co-pilot Craig during our two
most recent trips (Norway to Canada to Peru, then back again)
that Kristanna, Pamela and I took them out to lunch earlier
in the week as a show of our appreciation.
I learned that Mike had been with Carolyn since their
early days in college together. 27 years and three children
later, it was very easy to see that the flame still burned
incredibly bright between them. These two were madly in love
and simply could not survive without each other. I wanted to
use the relationship and the love Mike and Carolyn had built
up throughout their years together as a blueprint which would
help make my own marriage strong and ever-lasting.
Mike was a retired US Air Force pilot who proudly served
his country during the Gulf War. He was born and raised in
the United States, like the rest of his crew, but had been
living just outside of Oslo for the past eight years. His
military resume was another reason why I looked up to and
respected Mike so much.
Want a little known fact that I don't share too often?
After Victoria - my first fiancee - left me standing at the
altar in 1993 when I was just 19, I tried to join the Army.
Indeed, I had some patriotism in me as well. But I was
turned away; my back was already messed up, and they deemed
me _physically unable_ to serve in the military. I was, in
fact, born with a bad back (scoliosis). That is a major
factor as to why I have so many problems with it nowadays.
Always the perceptive one, Kristanna had a slightly
different view of Mike than I did. Kristanna, who never
seemed to be wrong with her intuition, was convinced that
Mike and Carolyn had some sort of romantic fling going on
with Barbara. Yes, Barbara - Carolyn's very own sister.
Kristanna was unsure whether or not Carolyn and Barbara did
anything together in terms of sexual play, but she was
utterly convinced that they shared Mike in bed. Equally.
Before the last leg of our trip last Sunday, the plane
stopped in Iceland for its final refueling. We were late
leaving, though, and all of us wondered why. Kristanna, of
course, offered a theory. "Carolyn and Barbara are probably
taking turns sucking Mike off in the cockpit right now!"
Whether or not that was true, I do not know. Nor was it
any of my business. I led quite a unique lifestyle myself,
so in no way was I going to judge the decisions that others
made about their personal lives. I just knew that Mike was
happy with Carolyn, and I wanted to follow his example as it
pertained to my own marriage and the relationships within it.
The greatest advantage I had found in owning a private
aircraft compared to commercial airline travel - even more
than the sheer luxury of it being a _flying hotel_ - was the
convenience and efficiency it offered. For example, we did
not have to fly out of a busy hub airport if we did not want
to. If we so desired, we could depart or arrive at a smaller
general aviation facility and avoid the traffic typically
found at larger commercial airports.
But even leaving from a busy hub airport - such as
Gardermoen in Oslo - private travelers depart from a small
facility called a Fixed Base of Operation, or FBO. This
effectively cuts out all of the chaos of a commercial
terminal. Before 9-11, I am told, security was much more
relaxed and private aircraft passengers could even drive
their own cars onto the tarmac. Today, they must park in
an adjoining lot and take provided shuttle to the aircraft.
It is not a bad deal at all - parking lots for private
flyers are generally free and secure 24/7. And, transport
drivers are available to load passengers' bags onto the
plane for them. Passengers are always with their belongings,
so there is no reason to worry that luggage will be lost,
damaged or sent to the wrong city by mistake.
Flying private also saves passengers the stress and
frustration of going through those dreaded security lines.
While the aircraft captain has the lawful right to search any
passenger and his or her bags, there is no line, X-ray
machine, removal of shoes, clothing, belt and jewelry.
Captains generally greet their passengers at the FBO and ask
to see identification before escorting them to the aircraft.
If travelers are late for any reason, the aircraft simply
waits. It will never depart without you. There are no plane
changes during the entire trip, so no reason to sprint across
sprawling airports to catch connecting flights. And, once
they are on the aircraft, passengers choose when to eat and
drink whatever they have pre-ordered for their group.
Flying private is just that - private. The only people on
board are those invited by the lead passenger. The group can
work uninterrupted or hold meetings if they want to. A family
could throw a massive birthday celebration. Almost all
private aircraft come equipped with laptop connections and
cabin telephones. Depending on the aircraft, travelers can
listen to music, watch movies or satellite television. They
can generally walk around and change seats on a literal whim.
They can even take a shower together and make love afterward!
Before landing, aircraft personnel can call ground
transportation so passengers do not have to wait. Such
actions by the crew and the team on the ground take the
hassle out of air travel. Private passengers arrive at their
destination ready to work or play. They save time and get
more done. They can even change flight times and destinations
throughout the day as often as they want.
A perfect example of this was that a mere ten minutes
after Lindsay and I stepped off of the aircraft, we were
already in our rental car (which had been waiting for us at
the FBO) and driving southbound on US Interstate 75 toward
Cincinnati. The Dayton International Airport was actually
located in a small town called Vandalia. From there to the
home that Lindsay that grew up in, it was a 45 mile drive.
I knew the area quite well, of course, having grown up
here with plenty of family still around. We arrived in
[City Name] just after 4:00pm local time (10:00pm back in
Norway, so I was already pretty tired). Lindsay knocked on
the front door of her family home and was greeted by joyous,
deafening screams from her younger sister, 18-year-old Alison,
who was totally unprepared to see her. This caused their
oldest sister, Jennifer (age 25) to come to the door to see
what all the commotion was, only to have a similar reaction.
Finally, mother Leslie came rushing to the door when Alison
screamed toward her in the home that Lindsay was here.
I stood there and although I did not say a word, I had
the biggest smile on my face as I watched Lindsay share an
emphatic group hug with her mother, and two of her three
sisters. Where was Gina? At work, perhaps? No matter, the
women cried and squealed in utter joy. Lindsay had not seen
any of them since her wedding with Trish back in December.
This reunion had been much too long in the making.
One by one, I received a hug from them as well. First to
greet me was Alison, forever a _forbidden fruit_ in my eyes
and someone that I had a secret crush on simply because she
was a younger, miniature version of Lindsay. Nearly an exact
carbon copy, if you will. Alison looked _so much_ like her
big sister, Lindsay, it was unreal.
But it would probably be best if I kept my lustful desires
for Alison to myself, come to think of it. But every time I
saw her, Alison got my juices flowing. Was it wrong that I had
carnal thoughts of bending my wife's younger sister over the
desk and pounding her from hehind like there was no tomorrow?
Leslie gave me a friendly hug as well, followed by the
oldest sister and daughter, Jennifer. It seemed as if Gina
was out on a date. Surprisingly enough, it was with another
woman. Perhaps the relationship and marriage that Lindsay
and I shared together helped open Gina's eyes, so to speak,
and introduced her to a whole other world out there? She
certainly did not have a girlfriend the last time I saw her.
There were many questions, and they came from all corners.
What were we doing here? Where was Trish? Why wasn't she
with us? How was she? What about the rest of the family?
How was Norway? Was Lindsay still involved with the church?
Alison put a telephone call out to Gina and asked her to
come home as soon as possible. When Gina arrived, the entire
family was once again reunited, and all was well in the
[Last Name] household. I listened to them talk and converse
for a good three hours before I started to feel really tired.
Lindsay reminded her family that it was nearly 2:00am back in
Norway, then suggested that I lay down on the sofa and relax.
Hmmmmm... this horrible, old thing. That sofa! The same
sofa I had slept on while spending a few evenings here in the
past, most recently in 2014. The same sofa which literally
broke my back! I really needed to buy them a new one...
I made the most of it, spread out and reclined back,
listening to the women chatter about everything under the
sun for a few more hours. Once Lindsay realized that I was
not going to make it much longer - I was more ready for bed
than ever before - she explained to her family that the
_real reason_ the two of us had shown up here unexpectedly
was that next week, Leslie would celebrate her 48th birthday,
and she had an early present for her.
I broke out my cell phone and began filming as Lindsay
gave a rectangular package, covered in gift wrap, to her
mother. Leslie took her time opening it and was delighted
to find a copy of _The Giving Tree_, a classic children's
book first published in 1964 and still quite popular today.
"I don't know how many times Mom sat up with me at night
and read me _The Giving Tree_," Lindsay explained to her
sisters (or perhaps she was reminding them). Lindsay turned
toward her mother and said, "Mom, I wrote you a little note
on the inside cover. Read it out loud so everyone can hear?"
Leslie was all smiles as she opened the front cover and
read off, "Dear Mom - There is no other book that could
better describe you. I could never put into words as well
as _The Giving Tree_ how loving, kind and generous you are.
I know that I will be a great mom one day and that is solely
because of you and the great example you set for me. This
is my favorite book from when I was a little girl. I would
love for you to read this to your forthcoming grandchild, whom
I will deliver for you in February 2016. Happy birthd..."
Leslie jumped up from the recliner in mid-word and screamed
out at the very top of her lungs. "MY BABY IS HAVING A BABY!"
The three sisters converged on Lindsay all at once, swarming
her and crying as well, offering words of congratulations.
Their happiness gave me a burst of energy which lasted for
another two hours. Finally, I told Lindsay that we needed to
get to our hotel in downtown Cincinnati or I was simply going
to pass out from exhaustion. Lindsay actually drove the
rental car herself and took care of checking in for us. When
I toppled over and hit the mattress at 1:00am, I was out like
a light. To my body, it was 7:00am (again, Norway time) and
I had been awake, save for a short nap on the plane, for 26
hours. No doubt, I would get plenty of sleep tonight...
* * *
Telling my own family of the good news, however, promised
to be a slightly different experience.
Although it was not always this way, Leslie, Jennifer,
Gina and Alison had fully accepted and embraced the lifestyle
that Lindsay had chosen for herself. Her family, a devout
religious group, still did not quite comprehend how Lindsay
could have a husband and five wives (with a sixth on the way
in Scarlett). But all of them were finally okay with the
idea because they knew how incredibly happy Lindsay was. It
was plain for them to see. She was a bundle of pure joy and
everyone in our little circle loved her. We all cared for
Lindsay and would protect her at all costs. To her family,
as long as Lindsay was safe and happy, they were happy.
On the other hand, I had not been on speaking terms with
my own sister, Di, since telling her that I had six wives of
my own. My sister simply did not agree with the idea at all.
In fact, the last time I saw her, Di told me that I flat-out
disgusted her, and that I was to leave immediately. I was
incredibly hurt, and had not tried contacting her since.
My oldest brother, Dan, took more of a neutral stance on
the subject. He told me in the past that as long as I was
happy, he was fine with the lifestyle I led. But that
certainly did not mean that he was happy about it himself,
or that he actually approved of it.
Finally, my mother. Mom was 74 years of age now and was
about as old-fashioned as any one person could possibly be.
To her, a marriage was supposed to strictly be between a man
and a woman, with no one else involved (or certainly included
as a part of it). I held off on telling her, my brother and
sister for the longest time that there were more women in my
life than just Kristanna (actually, many more), but actually
came forth last December and admitted to my mother - on the
very same day Trish and Lindsay got married, no less - the
whole, explicit truth.
I had all of these different women in my life, I told Mom.
I was married to three at the time (Kristanna, Pamela and Amy),
just days from marrying a fourth (Lindsay) and a few months
from tying the knot with two more (Devon and Trish). Oh,
there was Scarlett, too. Scarlett was still relatively new
to our relationship, but I was fairly certain that I would
marry her one day in the future as well.
I also had to explain to Mom that in addition to Kaden,
her grandson, she also had a granddaughter (Piper) that I
had never mentioned until now. Pamela was her mother, I
said, and I was too afraid to tell her... until now.
Back in December, Mom took that news a lot better than I
ever possibly dreamed she would. Much like my brother, Mom
ultimately said that if I was happy, she was fine. She
certainly did not condone the life choices I had made, but
was okay with them for the most part. I had to promise her
that I would no longer keep any secrets like this from her.
Mom even convinced me to bring her to Trish and Lindsay's
wedding, which was taking place later that evening at a local
church in the Cincinnati area. Mom wanted to meet everyone,
especially "the mother of my baby granddaughter that I did not
even know existed until about an hour ago." It sure was a
unique experience watching my mother have private, one-on-one
discussions during the reception party with every single woman
in my life. I never did ask any of them what was discussed...
Back in the present day, I woke up at 11:00am on Monday
morning, my body and its internal clock simply shot to Hell
because of that long airline flight from yesterday. Still, I
called both my mother and Dan, and told them that I was in
town for a couple of days. I asked them if they would be
interested in meeting up with me for lunch at _Rock Bottom_,
one of downtown Cincinnati's most popular restaurants,
located directly in Fountain Square.
"Did you bring any of your lady friends with you?"
"Just one, Mom. Lindsay."
"Oh. Lindsay? Not Kristanna? Lindsay is the one who got
married in the lesbian wedding last Christmas?"
"Yes, Mom. But it wasn't a lesbian wedding."
"Of course not. I remember the wedding was... nice."
I loved my mother like any good son. She had brought me
into this world and helped raise me. But I had to put up
with conversations like this whenever I spoke to her nowadays.
She was as old as the old school got; set in her ways and
beliefs, and not about to back down from them. Still, at the
same time, she was my mother. And I knew she loved me, too.
Mom and Dan both agreed to meet up with me at 2:00pm for
lunch at _Rock Bottom_. I had no intentions of seeing or
talking to my sister on this trip. Maybe in the future.
I had a second brother (Steve) who lived somewhere deep
within the backwater hills of Kentucky. With a very long
criminal history, Steve was the definite _black sheep_ of
the family and did not even have a telephone. Trying to
track him down in the past had always proven to be a massive
chore. At least for this trip, I was not even going to try.
My father, on the other hand, lived in California with his
girlfriend. He and I were on excellent terms. He knew all
about my life and had been to Norway to visit us in March.
Perhaps I was blind as a bat (or just dumb), but I did not
realize just how insecure Lindsay was, and the uneasiness
she felt, in regards to having lunch with my mother and
brother until she emerged from the hotel washroom one hour
before our meeting was set to commence. Lindsay was dressed
as if she was going for a job interview at an accounting
firm, and that the success of her entire career hinged on it!
She wore a white blazer suit jacket that was buttoned all
the way to the top and a pair of long black dress pants with
modest two-inch heels. With her lush, sunrise-gold hair
woven into a tight, complicated braid, Lindsay even had a
black scarf wrapped around her neck. Good Lord, it was 85
degrees outside! What in the world was she thinking?
I was able to get Lindsay to ditch the scarf, but she
absolutely refused to change anything else about her attire.
Lindsay wanted to look prim and proper for my family. She
had only met my mother once - at her wedding and its ensuing
reception with Trish - while this would be her first time
ever speaking to Dan. They had yet to meet. Lindsay was also
well aware of the opinion that Di had about her and the others.
Gone was the ultra-outgoing and gregarious Lindsay who I had
become so accustomed to in recent times; temporarily replaced
by the timid and shy Lindsay that I met two years ago when she
first stepped foot on my island. I was stunned at the sudden
transformation. She was so incredibly nervous!
Things got off to a good start, at least. We arrived at
the restaurant at 1:40pm. Mom and Dan showed up shortly
thereafter. Lindsay was humble and demure in greeting and
acknowledging them, but otherwise stayed mostly quiet for the
first 30 minutes of our meal. She opened up and talked a
little with Dan when he mentioned [City Name] in passing,
telling him it was where she grew up and where her family
still lived today. They shared a few good stories about it.
And at one point, my mother wanted to know why was Lindsay
"dressed up like a librarian". I kind of hung my head low...
The conversation took a drastic turn once I informed them
that Lindsay was pregnant. There were congratulations at
first, but then Dan began to speak of the two young infants I
already had back in Norway (Kaden and Piper). He also brought
up the fact that Amy's child (Dani Grace) was on her way, and
would be born soon. An unexpected bombshell was dropped when
I told them that four days prior to learning that Lindsay was
pregnant, Trish had informed me that she was expecting, too.
"Two babies and three pregnant women, all in less than a
12 month time span, meaning five women total," was one of the
many things Dan said to me, suddenly upset. "Is this a big
joke to you, Jeremy? Is parenthood and getting all these
women pregnant some sort of sick, twisted conquest for you?"
"HEY!" Lindsay shot back at him, breaking free of her
shell with the force of a thousand librarians, her voice
shrill. "Just who do you think you are saying that to him?"
Dan became even more upset and, to avoid a scene in the
restaurant that could get messy in a hurry, he got up from
the table and said he was leaving. He drove Mom down here.
I offered to take her home myself if she wanted to stay, but
Mom said it was probably best that she go with Dan instead.
And, they both left together. In a flash.
Upset herself, Lindsay tossed her dinner napkin down and
hurried off toward the ladies' room in a crying fit. I was
left by my lonesome at the table in the restaurant, several
strange eyes fixated on me with hushed words being exchanged.
Customers and employees alike, everyone was staring at me.
It was one of those moments where you feel two feet tall...
When Lindsay emerged from the ladies' room ten minutes
later much more composed, I gave the waitress five $100 bills
and told her to keep the change. I did not care what the
price for our meal was, nor did I have to see it. I took
Lindsay's hand and quickly guided her out of the restaurant,
then two blocks over to where our rental was in a car garage.
"YOUR BROTHER THINKS I'M A SLUT!" Lindsay screeched out
once we were inside the vehicle, bouncing and thrashing her
limbs about wildly. "HE HATES US ALL!"
It took some effort on my part, but I was finally able to
calm Lindsay down. Her mascara was ruined and the beautiful
braid she spent so much time on earlier had come loose, and
was now a jumbled mess. "Our baby may only be the size of
a sesame seed inside you right now," I told Lindsay, "but I
don't want you to be all upset and angry, and put our little
child at risk." I cupped her chin with my palm and stroked
her cheek with a thumb. "Settle down, princess."
I went onto explain to Lindsay that our family - our
marriage and its overall structure - was very unique. It was
very different; not normal, and there were very few people
in the world who could properly comprehend or understand it.
How many men out there have six wives who are all also married
to each other at the same time? I had a fiancee, too! "Baby,
we are always going to leave ourselves open to criticism and
ridicule from others - even from our own family members. It
is something we will deal with for the rest of our lives."
I told Lindsay that Dan's opinion simply did not matter to
me. I was not going to become upset or get all heartbroken
over it. I knew that I was happy in life. I was a good man,
an even better husband and father. I loved all seven of these
women, as well as my two children, more than life itself. I
treated all of them with the utmost amount of dignity and
respect. I surely never looked at any of them as a _conquest_,
or each pregnancy as some sort of notch on my bedpost.
"This is why I rarely associate with anyone outside of our
little circle," I continued telling her. "There is no need to
let anyone else in. I don't even have any friends back in
Norway. My two best friends, if you want to call them that,
are Krissy's parents, Kristof and Rande. They allowed us to
build a home on their property and take over their family
business. But most of all, they welcomed us - and the unique
lifestyle decisions we have made - with open arms from the
very beginning. That's rare, honey. Very, very rare."
"When I confine myself to our family, I am so happy," I
stressed. "Everyone else is so happy. That is all I really
need. I love to watch Krissy and Pamela interact with each
other; Krissy always teasing and ripping on her, and Pamela
forever thinking of a way to get her back. I love the way
Amy has changed in the past two years... the woman she has
become. Amy is an angel now, Lindsay. A pure angel. And I
also love seeing you and Trish together. I love watching
Trish's eyes whenever you walk into a room where she is.
They always light up like a Christmas tree. Trish loves you
so much, honey, and I know that you love her too."
"Devon is sort of the quiet guardian for our family,"
Lindsay murmured, continuing my thought for me. "She stays
in the background a lot, but Devon would have blown up at
your brother and let him have it if she heard what he said
to you earlier. Devon also loves Kristanna the same way
Trish and I love each other. It has been neat to watch
Scarlett work herself into our lives and its routine over
the past year. Fascinating, really."
"And I love Kaden and Piper!" Lindsay chirped, suddenly
smiling again. The babies always made her smile. "I love
both of them so much! Oh my God... I miss seeing them now."
"Let Dan go back to Di and tell her that I got five
women pregnant and that all of you are nothing but a conquest
to me," I grumbled. "Let him tell her that, give her more
fuel for the fire to hate and despise me, say I am even more
disgusting. Let them think that parenthood is a joke to me.
I don't care. As long as I have you and the other girls in
my life, Lindsay, I don't care. If it's negative, I don't
care about anything or what anyone else thinks about me. All
that matters is that I am happy, you are happy, and everyone
else is happy. If others cannot understand or appreciate
that, I don't care what they think."
"But he's your brother!" Lindsay whined.
"I. Don't. Care." I shook my head at her. "If Dan wants
to be mean and hurtful, and make comments about something he
knows nothing about, I don't care. All I need is our family.
I don't need any friends and I don't need any family members
who are going to hate on me - on us - like that."
Lindsay tilted her head at me. "Aren't you friends with
Captain Mike? I thought you said you liked him."
"Yes, Captain Mike is becoming a good friend," I nodded,
referring to the pilot for our private aircraft. "Mike and
the rest of his crew have been incredibly good to us. He
and his wife, her sister, and their co-pilot friend all seem
accepting of us and our relationship, our marriage. I can
also tell they are not just putting on an agreeable face for
us simply because we are their employers. It's genuine."
"That's because Mike has his own unique thing going on
with Carolyn and Barbara!" Lindsay giggled. "Two sisters
sharing one husband together! Kind of like your ultimate
fantasy... isn't it, Jeremy? Me and you, and... Alison?"
* * *
After our little heart-to-heart discussion in the parking
garage ended, I decided to take Lindsay back to the hotel -
the _Residence Inn_ over on 4th Street - so she could get a
change of clothes and fix both her hair and her mascara. I
told her to dress appropriately - we were going on a hike.
It was just 12 days ago, while still vacationing on the
island off the coast of Peru, when I went out for a moonlit
stroll on the beach with Lindsay. She spoke at length that
particular evening about her father, who unexpectedly passed
away in November 2012 at the age of 46 due to heart failure.
Lindsay shared stories about her childhood and the things
that she used to do with her father while he was still alive.
One of her favorite memories of all, I learned, was going
to Miami Whitewater Forest - a sprawling, beautiful state park
just north of Cincinnati - when she was a little girl and
picking blackberries there with her dad. Lindsay spoke of a
specific, very remote hill at the park, its entrance roped
off and covered by long weeds, which was once her father's
favorite location to pick blackberries some 15 years ago.
As she got older, Lindsay explained to me on the beach that
evening, she and her father no longer picked blackberries
there, but they would often hike up to the top of the hill on
a near weekly basis when the weather was nice. They never saw
anyone else there, so the spot naturally became _their hill_.
It was very special to both of them; their own, little
father-and-daughter ritual that others would not understand.
After his passing, Lindsay said that every time she was in
the area, she would go to the park and hike up the hill as a
private tribute to her father. Trish came here with Lindsay
once when we were visiting in 2013, but every other time, she
had hiked the trail alone. Lindsay even told me that she had
often spoke to her father candidly while ascending this hill;
communing with his spirit gave her great peace and solace.
Being the thoughtful and attentive husband that I was -
and knowing how she regarded her father's memory with such
sheer reverence - I told Lindsay that night on the beach
that the next time she and I were in Ohio, I wanted to hike
up that hill with her. I also asked if she would take me to
his grave site. I wanted her to properly introduce us. I
had heard so many wonderful things about her dad - Donald
was his name - over the past two years. Although belated, I
wanted to ask for his approval; I wanted her hand in marriage.
The trip to the cemetery would happen tomorrow.
Lindsay re-did her intricate braid and applied a fresh coat
of mascara, then slipped into a pair of black spandex pants
and a green, loose-fitting tank-top, with a black sports bra
clearly visible underneath. Sneakers and socks completed the
ensemble. Lindsay looked as if she was going to the gym!
Just think of the most beautiful park you can possibly
imagine in a remote, small-town America setting, and you
have Miami Whitewater Forest. It was everything you could
want in a park and then some. A peaceful retreat. Ponds,
several picnic areas, bird watching galore, fishing, camping,
fitness trails and bicycling, even a massive golf course...
Miami Whitewater Forest literally had everything.
The park, located in the tiny village of New Haven, was a
mere 20 minute drive from the downtown hotel. Getting out
of the car and looking around, I was vividly reminded of my
own childhood. I too, spent many weekend days here in the
past with my mother and father, my sister and two brothers.
It had been nearly 30 years since I was here, yet it seemed
as if nothing had changed. The big lake was still here, with
fishermen dotting its edges. Several boats, including paddles
and pontoons, and even kayaks, were in the water. Oh... over
there, the marina and the gift shop. Behind the gift shop, I
clearly remembered, was a concession stand and picnic area.
I went and snuck a peek. Yup, still there. Families and
little kids everywhere, dogs on leashes... everyone happy. A
pair of women passed by us on horseback.
I began to get emotional myself as thoughts of my very own
childhood - memories of being here with my family when I was
a little boy - nearly overtook me. Dad and Steve bicycling as
I tried to keep up with them. Di giving me pieces of bread so
I could feed the ducks. Dan tossing a football back and forth
with me. Oh, how I looked up to him back in those days. And
Mom... getting the picnic ready so we could have our lunch.
I shook my head and tried to snap out of it, fearful that
I may break down and start crying right in front of Lindsay.
She knew nothing of my inner struggle at the moment. Lindsay
had a bright, beaming smile, and extended me her hand. When
I took it, she said, "Let's go find that hill, shall we?"
Well, it sure was located in a remote area. We walked
about a half-mile away from the main concourse along the
busy road, then Lindsay took me over into a heavily forested
area. She said two massive trees, nearly side by side, were
the landmark for the trail that led up the hill. I spotted it.
"Daddy, I'm here!" Lindsay called out at the top of her
lungs as she and I ascended the long and winding gravel road.
"And look who I brought with me. Jeremy is here! I am going
to bring him to your grave site tomorrow so you two can be
properly introduced." I watched, fascinated, as we walked
along, the look on Lindsay's face indicating that she was
listening closely. "You're right, Daddy! Yes, you are so
right! I'M PREGNANT! Trish is pregnant, too. No, Trish is
back home in Norway. She's not with us. What?" Lindsay
suddenly went quiet as a mouse. "WHAT?" she then screamed.
"What is it?" I asked, concerned.
Suddenly, Lindsay was crying. "My dad says that I am
going to have a baby girl, and Trish a baby boy! He says
he already knows because he's in Heaven and God told him!"
Lindsay vehemently shook her head and sniffed her nose.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Jeremy. You probably think I'm crazy..."
"Not at all," I grinned, wrapping an arm around her
shoulder for emphasis. "I don't think that at all." I
kissed her on the forehead. "Do you really hear him?"
She nodded, wiping away her excess tears. "I hear his
voice in my head whenever I am on this hill, or whenever I am
at the cemetery visiting him. I don't know what it is... but
I hear him talking to me. I swear to you, Jeremy, I do.
Those are the only two places where I hear him... I SWEAR. I
know it sounds crazy, but I know it's him..."
"This hill belongs to you and your dad," I reminded her.
"Of course he wants to talk to you while you are here."
Lindsay shed more tears in response as I added, "Wow. Parents
typically have to wait until the fourth or fifth month until
they learn the gender of their baby, if they want to learn it
at all." I smiled leisurely at her. "You and I found out
just four weeks into your pregnancy." Lindsay shrieked as I
ended, "We need to come up with a name for our daughter."
"Kaylee!" Lindsay told me, sobbing. "Kaylee... Janae. I
told my dad when I was eight... I was gonna have a daughter
one day, and her name... her name would be... Kaylee Janae."
I tilted my head and placed my hand upon Lindsay's stomach,
my eyes fixated upon it. "Hey there, you sweet, little sesame
seed. You got a name now! Kaylee Janae..."
"Oh God, Jeremy!" Lindsay sobbed, stopping and tossing
her arms around me in a wild embrace. "OH GOD, I LOVE YOU!"
Lindsay and I stayed at the park until 8:00pm that evening.
We rented a pontoon boat and puttered around the lake in it
for two hours. We had dinner courtesy of the concession stand
and I bought nearly anything in the gift shop that piqued my
interest at all (over $630), figuring any profit made would go
to the upkeep of the park and its grounds. Lindsay and I even
had a loaf of bread and fed bits and pieces of it to the
ducks, before passing it off to two excitable little toddlers
and their grateful parents. Those kids did a much better job
feeding the ducks than Lindsay or I ever could.
And yes, the hill. The hill that belonged to Lindsay and
her dad. Once reaching its summit, Lindsay and I sat down in
a shaded area next to the water tower she also told me about
on the beach 12 days ago. I held and cuddled with Lindsay as
we shared quiet, small talk. Every now and then, it seemed,
Lindsay's dad had something to say. She always answered him.
I could not stop kissing her, cherishing her... loving her.
What started out as a not-so-good day at the restaurant
with my mother and brother had since blossomed into a
collection of tender, heartwarming memories with my wife that
I would never forget. This old park seemed to have that sort
of effect on me. Not only today, but 30 years ago as well.
Indeed, some things really never do change.
Oh... Lindsay and I also picked blackberries. Lots and
lots of blackberries. When we got back to the hotel later,
I was going to bake her a blackberry pie.
<<<- End of Chapter 17 ->>>
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"Island Fever 4: Paradise"
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