Two Loves Pt. 02

Chapter 3

I saw Emma again only a month after our initial meeting in Los Angeles. After I got back from the ACM Conference, I briefed my boss and colleagues on the papers I'd attended and my recommendations. After some further research, we realized there was some seminal work on relational databases being done by Larry Ellison at Ampex Corporation in Redwood City, California. My boss asked me to fly out to the Bay Area to see Ellison and a researcher in another company, and see if there were any synergies between their interests and Digital Devices.

I talked to Em about once a week, usually for an hour or so at a time. Our conversations were wide ranging, covering everything from our technical work to how we got along with our parents. In between, Em even made me comfortable talking about Megan and how I felt about her. She made some suggestions for moving our relationship forward that I tried: a corsage and some of her favorite wine after one of her art gallery events, and a few weeks later some ideas on how to improve our intimacy. Her suggestions were on the mark and made me value her friendship even more than I already did.

During our conversations, Em always found a way to refer to me as her 'Boyfriend' – with a capital 'B.' From our intimate times together, I knew she liked that term. Her use of the phrase made me feel guilty, not that I had a similar role with Megan, but that there were so many boyfriend things I should be doing to earn the title. I let her comments pass, yet thought when I saw her again I'd have to be sure she understood all the things I couldn't do for her in this role being three thousand miles away.

Until the Redwood City trip, I thought our conversations would eventually wan and we'd become a pleasant memory for each other – an assignation at a computer conference when we were both far away from home and lonely. My second trip to the west coast changed all that.

Em actually met my arriving flight at the San Francisco airport. She threw herself into my arms and showered me with kisses as we stood in the airport concourse just outside my gate. She led me home to her apartment to fix me dinner, however, only seconds inside her door we were making love on her bed. We went non-stop for a couple of hours until both of us needed to come up for air and some nourishment.

Rather than cook, she took me to her favorite Mexican restaurant. I remember she wore a long dress with nothing on underneath it. As we sat side by side in a booth that afforded us some measure of privacy, she had me feel her breasts and finger her slit as we waited for our meals. I was mesmerized by her sexuality, and was more than just casually aroused during our entire meal even though we'd sated ourselves in the hours since my arrival.

I never used the hotel that trip; I just called and cancelled my reservation after Em insisted I stay with her. She had a little grin when she insisted; a promise of the sexual times we'd enjoy. Whenever I wasn't attending to the primary purpose of my trip, Em and I were making love, sleeping wrapped up in each other, or eating.

Three things came up in our conversations during that trip that forever changed our relationship, not that any one of them couldn't have been changed and reversed the course we set during that trip. In the end, these things held constant and formed the basis for our relationship.

First, over dinner on Em's patio my second night in Palo Alto, she used the term 'Boyfriend' again to refer to me. I explained to her that when she used the term I felt guilty, primarily because I wasn't there to do things for her or be with her all the time. I also alluded to my unfolding and similar relationship with Megan, a relationship that seemed to be taking off in new and desirable directions.

Em sat in my lap and held my face gently in her two hands. "Matthew, I know you're thousands of miles away most of the time. I don't expect a 'normal' boyfriend. You are just the way I want you." She laughed and added, "If you were around all the time, we'd probably fight and break up anyway."

We kissed for a moment, and then Em added, "I mean it when I call you my Boyfriend. I'm not seeing anyone else, although I know you'd tell me to." I nodded in agreement with her supposition. "You are the nicest man I've ever met. I knew that in the first ten seconds when I met you – when I asked if I could sit next to you at lunch that day. I think it was chemistry or pheromones or something, but I knew instantly that you were my 'one.'"

"But, Em, I can't be the 'one' if I'm three thousand miles away."

"I knew that too, and that's all right. I take you just the way you are – where you are, how you are, as you are – all that."

"But, ..."

Em put a finger on my lips to stop me from talking. It was then that the second part of our conversation occurred; a part that surprised me in its candor and set our relationship for a long, long time.

She said insistently, "Matthew, pay attention to what I'm about to tell you because it's profound." She locked eyes with me and kissed me gently on the tip of my nose. She went on, "I don't mind being the 'other' woman. In fact, I prefer it."

I was shocked, and I guess my eyes must have flared in amazement at her statement.

"I know you have your Megan. I also know that you're going to make love to her very soon, and then get engaged, and then get married. I don't care." She paused and added, "Well, I do care. I care about your happiness. I want the two of you to be happy – very happy. I'm not here to break anything up; quite the contrary. I'm here to help you put that part of your life together and make something good out of it."

I spoke, "But, our relationship ... our time together ...doesn't that ...?" I gestured towards Em's bedroom.

"Oh, I don't want to stop having sex with you. And I hope you don't with me either. We can if that makes a big difference to you. I still want a relationship with you, but it can be as little or as much as you want to make it ... providing, of course, that it doesn't get in the way of your relationship with Megan."

I studied Em's face, looking for traces of sarcasm or jealousy, but I found none.

Em added thoughtfully after a moment, "Of course, I know our relationship will change your relationship with Megan – it's silly of me to think otherwise. There are ways it could change it that will be bad and ways that will be good. I only want to have the latter – the good and positive ways. I don't want you to think about me ... us ... our relationship in any way that doesn't add something to what you and Megan grow."

"Em, any other girl would be jealous, or possessive, or something other than that," I stated with a tone of amazement. I was also testing to be sure she meant what she said.

"But I'm not any other girl," she said insistently. "Maybe it has to do with how I was raised and the fact that I matured over the past ten or twelve years with hippie parents and a liberal set of friends. I don't get jealous. And, what I'm trying to tell you is I'm happy for you – happy for you and Megan. I'm also greedy enough to want a piece of you too, but only what you can afford to give – and give in a way that doesn't detract from what Megan and you build together."

"But, you'll find other people and date and fall in love too," I stated affirmatively and hopeful in her acceptance of the idea.

"Maybe," She said, "But I don't feel a compelling need to go find someone since I have you."

I insisted, "I won't live up to all you expectations. This is a rare trip, especially so soon after we met. I might not be back out here for months or years. You'll develop expectations about me, expectations I can't meet or won't meet, even when we're together. A telephone call once or twice a week – even everyday – just won't cement a relationship."

"Oh, I'll fantasize about you a lot, but I'm enough of a realist that I know I'll keep things in bound. And, I underline what I just told you: I'm happy with as much or as little as you have to give."

I looked at Em wondering what the future would hold for her – for us.

Em said slowly and haltingly, "If you're trying to tell me 'this is it – that you don't want to go on any further' – then I'll understand. I'll ... I don't know what I'll do, but I can even accept that too." I didn't think she was being manipulative in her statement; it was just what she felt.

"Oh, no!" I protested. "That's not what I was trying to tell you. I care for you a lot. I want to keep seeing you. I'll find a way ... we'll find a way to keep in touch, to be together once in a while. I just want to be sure you're all right with 'once in a while.'"

Em held my face in hers and kissed me again. We spent a few minutes tenderly expressing our feelings.

It was then that the third part of our life-changing conversation took place by way of two brief phrases uttered between us that changed everything in our lives forever.

Em pulled away finally and looked me in the eyes with hers. She whispered, "Matthew, I love you."

Without hesitation, I replied with genuine emotion, "Emma, I love you too."

We'd never used those words before with each other, and I hadn't even said them to Megan – although we both knew they were implied. To me, they were a commitment and a vow of mindshare. Forever after, Em would be in my thoughts and on my mind, whether she was three-inches away or three-thousand miles away. I just had to acknowledge, as Em already had, that this was going to be an unusual relationship.

I learned more about love from Emma on the rest of my visit. We talked about the feelings involved in love, the emotions, what love meant to us, including the commitment. We talked more about not being exclusive too, although I didn't get the feeling that Em would go out and seek the kind of more permanent and close relationship that I felt she deserved.

Over dinner at one of our favorite restaurants, we also talked more about my relationship with Megan, and how to turn it into something more significant. Emma surprised me with her bluntness about making the relationship deeper. She talked openly about expressing my feelings of love for Megan too. She also admonished me to think clearly about how I felt about Megan independently of my feelings for her. She wanted me to love two women: her and Megan.

I told her I felt peculiar talking about Megan with her, particularly when it involved creating a loving and physical relationship. Emma laughed and reassured me that there was no subject I could think of that she wasn't prepared to talk about in a supportive way with me. Based on that challenge, we then tried to think of subjects that might be taboo between us. This led to conversations about losing our virginity, masturbation, sexual fantasies, pornography, religion, suicide and euthanasia, lesbianism and homosexuality, incest, and our feelings about all kinds of living arrangements. We clarified our boundaries and had a lot of laughs in our discussion.

I stayed over Friday, although that was to have been my travel day. I had a Saturday evening dinner with Megan, so I called to let her know that I'd be there, but that I'd be on an airplane a good part of Saturday. She seemed unusually quiet, yet didn't ask why I'd stayed an extra day.

After that trip, Em and I continued our romance over the telephone. She taught me about telephone sex too, something I'd heard about, and something that she turned out to be particularly good at. We both improved our vocabularies about sexual acts and feelings. Later, I found out that she did research into the subject, talked to her friends, and even practiced by herself before engaging me in the salacious long-distance acts.

I made another trip to Silicon Valley just after Thanksgiving. I worked for three days and used a fourth to do nothing but make love to Em. I stayed with her again. She was so comfortable to be around and even more comfortable to be in love with.

Em always asked about how I was progressing the relationship with Megan, often making suggestions about how to express myself better to Megan, or raise sensitive subjects. Because of her ideas, I think Megan and I did move things along faster than they would have happened had I been left to my own devices. On one trip in the autumn Em and I went out to dinner. She tested me on my feelings for Megan. Based on my answers, she urged me to become engaged – to ask Megan to marry me. She told me how I should do it on Christmas Eve, and I followed her directions to the letter. Em told me her heart felt so warm with love for us.

I was back in Redwood City for a week in February and then March. Much to my surprise, Em discovered she had to be in Boston for a conference in May. Somehow, we were managing to see each other much more than I'd initially expected.

On one of those visits, I bought Em a one-carat diamond ring. I couldn't ask her to marry me, and I guessed correctly that she didn't want this. Instead, I presented the ring to her as a token of our friendship, love, and our commitment to a lasting relationship. Em cried in her happiness.

During that year, my relationship with Megan changed from friend, to boyfriend, to fiancé, and finally to husband. Em coached me along, giving me helpful hints about behavior and ideas that would endear me to Megan. My concept of the 'other woman' was the opposite of how Em behaved: someone malicious and trying to drive a wedge into the relationship. I think if I'd suggested it, and Megan was willing, Em would have come and joined us in some complicated ménage a trois.

Em would often tell me not to call her for a week or two, trying to get me to focus my attention and affection on Megan. I follow her directives, yet continued to think of Em every day.

I decided in the first month after meeting Emma that there was no one I could share her with. By that, I mean I had no friend close enough that I could tell about her. As my relationship with Megan matured, I was even happier that I'd decided to keep Em all to myself.

I watched with fascination the flaming affair two of my co-workers engaged in. Both were older and married, yet for months over lunch they would slip away several times a week to a local motel. Everyone at work knew and purportedly they'd even been caught flagrant delicto in one of the conference rooms after work hours. After six months, things ended and the woman left the company. I think one of the spouses got wise to what was going on.

Kevin, the guy in the affair, told me he was guilt-ridden by his actions. He wanted to destroy himself over the breach of trust he'd created in his marriage. He'd been the instigator of the affair, slowly seducing Sheila, a pretty secretary from the steno pool. "I told so many lies," he confessed in our small cafeteria one day.

I asked him why he did it and couldn't he have just not told any lies?

Kevin stared at me with a strange expression. He never answered my questions. A few months later, someone told me he was having another affair with a pretty clerk from accounting.

I kept waiting for a wave of guilt to sweep over me as my thoughts vacillated between the two women I loved, but none came. I even worried about my sociopathic behavior, but I didn't change. I had no regrets about how my life had formed.

After Megan and I got engaged, and right after I got back from a trip to the west coast when I saw Emma, I sat down and focused on what I was thinking. I loved both women. I even wrote out little notes about each one and how I felt. I didn't see negatives in one that I was compensating for by engaging with the other; I didn't think of either of them that way. They were both unique, and in many ways unlike one another. I just liked being with and loving both of them. Em had me pegged; I'd fallen in love twice – simultaneously.

On another trip to California, Em and I spent a day and night at the Seal Rock Inn next to Sutro Heights Park in San Francisco. We walked the beach for a few hours and then talked as we sat on a crowded at a cocktail lounge overlooking the Pacific. Initially, Em was in a carefree mood – a blithe spirit with seemingly little care for any consequences or fallout of our burgeoning affair. She talked about how we were all brainwashed about monogamy, exclusivity, and marriage, firmly stating that she didn't buy into any of the precepts. She was so persuasive, I thought of living with Megan but not marrying her; that fleeting thought left my head when I realized that Megan would never go for that idea.

I asked Em about guilt and whether she had any guilt about 'us.' She gave me a funny look and said, "To have guilt, you have to be doing something wrong and think it's wrong. Do you think what we're doing is wrong?"

"No," I replied solidly, "But other people would; like Megan probably."

Em got thoughtful for a while. She then spoke slowly and definitely, "Matthew, I don't ever want you to lie about us to anyone." She stopped walking and stood in front of me. "Guilt comes from lies and deceit. I don't want that for you, Megan, or me. If that means this all comes out somehow, and there are bad feelings, then so be it. If it means we have to end our relationship, then so be it. Above all, let's value the truth through all we'll go through."

After digesting her statement I said, "Em, you are profound."

She smiled at me and we kissed in the chilly ocean air.

Chapter 4

I stood beside Megan mesmerized as I watched the doctor catch the bloody and rubbery body of a baby that seemed to almost explode from her vagina. Megan was squeezing my hand, which by now was almost numb from the pressure. I'd alternated between feeding her small shavings of ice and rubbing her back during contractions.

The doctor looked up with a smile on his face; "Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Carter, you have a lovely baby girl to add to your family." He paused and reminded us, "Don't worry about the blood; that's just from the episiotomy." The baby made a gurgling sound and then her tentative and protesting cry of being in this world. He held the naked creature up as a nurse dabbed with a washcloth at some of the fluids covering her purplish body. He looked at the clock and further pronounced in pleased tone, "This young lady entered the world at exactly 3:33 p.m. on April 24, 1985."

The doctor handed the baby over to a nurse with great care. The nurse wrapped the baby in a towel of some kind and carried her to an adjacent table to clean her. I studied every detail with the practiced eye of an engineer. I thought this was bioengineering in its highest form. I'd been present at the birth of my first daughter too; even given that, this was momentous occasion.

Dr. Charles Budray spoke authoritatively to Megan; "Now, just one more large push and we'll get the placenta too." Still holding Megan's hand, I could feel her bear down in a final push to expel her insides. Assisted by the doctor, a mass of bloody pulp popped from her birth canal into a stainless steel dish a second nurse held beneath the vaginal opening. The doctor pawed through the dark red mass of tissue, and then nodded his acceptance to the nurse who walked away with the waste.

Megan still clutched my hand tightly in hers. She gave me a wan smile. Perspiration ran down both cheeks even though the operating room was cool. I leaned in and kissed her on the forehead.

"You did well, Megan, very well," I told her.

"Well, we're not doingthat again!" She expounded loudly. Even the nurse looked surprised with her emphatic statement. I nodded acceptance of the edict. Years before, we'd plotted out the timetable for our ideal family. We were on right on target with children. This was our second child. Eleanor Beth Carter had been born two years earlier. We'd agreed to name this girl Sarah Alice Carter. Both girls had one of their grandmother's names as their middle name.