Unconventional

The edge crumbled. I felt pleasure develop cracks in my foothold, then felt the wall in my balls give way and I splashed suddenly down over the abyss to flood her with the tide of my passion. Again, I pumped as if drawing from my very chest. I felt my stomach crunch and my balls lurch and my sperm throb along my shaft and with each pumped purge, she cried out and I thrust again.

I collapsed to my elbows, still ejaculating inside her but dryly now and she still clasped with her little waves of aftershocks. My mouth was open but devoid of speech. Her own, smiling through ragged breaths.

"Do you think we made a baby?" She asked me.

"What?" I heard her but my mind was still riding waves of pleasure.

"A baby just like Tiffany and Finn?"

"Finn?" I don't know whether science supports my theory, but I don't think men are capable of human thought right after ejaculation. "What about Finn?"

"You're sweaty," She laughs, "Roll over."

We roll and she keeps me held inside her to sit and fix me with a serious frowning look.

"For an architect, you're not very clever. Have you never done the maths?"

"Maths?"

"Ok," She smiles down at me, "Let me use baby words."

"You remember in mid-March one year, we had bad wings and then in December, little Tiffany came along?"

"How could I forget?" I smile.

"Okay, so... Follow me carefully. Simon and I have been trying to have children for the last nine years. We can't. Well, he can't. Think back to the um... 'wedding present' you gave me. Remember?"

"Oh god."

"Uhuh." She reaches down to kiss me, "My own little piece of our love to keep with me forever. One I didn't have to give away."

"Why? You could have told..."

"I only really worked it out when Simon and I got tested. I wanted to tell you one day, now I have."

"Fuck..." I never swear.

"So, I haven't been on the pill for almost nine years now. You're going to fill me up and we're going to make another little miracle together. I think letting Simon think he produced a miracle sperm would be good for his self-esteem and it would be fucking brilliantly cohesive as we try to put our marriage back togeth-"

CLICK... My door closes loudly, interrupting our post intercourse, discourse.

"Fuck!" I say beneath Jackie.

"Shit, fuck." She says scrambling off me to find a towel or something to wear. "Who was it?"

"Don't know." I wipe myself with the towel and wrap it around me. "One of the girls I bet. Fuck. Fuck Fuck."

Like teens sprung making out we walk hastily dressed and dishevelled down the hall to the kitchen to find a very red-faced Tiffany eyeing us suspiciously from her perch on the kitchen benchtop. She is drinking a beer.

"I hope you don't mind Daddy." She says seeing my gaze on the beer. "After what I just saw and heard I really need this?"

"How much did you hear Tiffy?" Jackie asks quietly.

"Let's just say I don't need to ask questions about this now." She shows us a piece of official looking paper.

"What's that?" I ask.

"Birth certificate."

"Oh shit." Jackie and I say together.

"Hmm." She says, tipping the beer up and drinking the whole lot far more quickly than I would have thought her capable of. "I needed my birth certificate for my licence application. I found it in the filing cabinet. When I read it, it didn't make sense. I went to find you and ask. I heard you guys talking and opened the door."

All I can do is shake my head, imagining what she saw and heard. "I'm so sorry darlin."

"Why?" She fixes me squarely, "It kind of makes sense, I just have to get a handle on it. I'm going back to school, getting my learners, then I'm coming home and having at least six of these bloody things while you two... do some bloody explaining. If you don't like that idea, I'll just get Mum to explain. I think you'll do a better job though."

"Oh," she says, picking up her school bag and looking back at us. "I don't think Elizabeth is ready for this. I trust you can be a little more discreet please."

We watch her leave; thousands of questions and concerns whirl around us. What will this new twist in the loop bring? Will we wobble back to some sort of equilibrium?

"Well." Says Jackie, "That was fucking insane. I hope we can help her understand well enough to keep Simon out of it."

"Something tells me things will be okay. She handled that a lot more maturely and evenly than I ever would have thought."

"Uhuh."

My phone starts ringing back in the house somewhere. Then Jackie's.

"Haha, Tishy..." Jackie laughs, "I bet she's shitting; the fucking dirty old pervert."

................

We're sitting respectably dressed in swimmers, in the hot tub. (Without the heating off of course, just the little jets of water massaging our worries away.) We haven't really said much. There's not really a lot to say. Tiffany smiles when she finds us. "Hey guys. Mind if I join you?"

Her happiness is a little un-nerving. I'd actually be happier if she was ranting and raving.

"So..." She laughs as she slides into the tub opposite opening a long neck, "My Daddy is bonking my Aunty. My Aunty is really my Mum. My Mum knows and is really my Aunty. My cousin is my brother and my sister, is my half-sister-cousin."

She chugs down half a beer and burps loudly, "How'd I do?"

"Fucking nailed it." Jackie laughs.

"Why aren't you upset?" I ask her seriously.

"Oh, come on Daddy." She smiles at me. "Didn't you ever wish your parents were a little more weird? I mean you and Mum are just so... Vanilla, nice, normal, perfect. It's a lot to live up to. Half my friends have divorced parents. A couple have gay parents. But I get Mr and Mrs White Privilege. Besides, it explains a lot of things over the years. Why Aunty J, haha, B-Mum ('that means Birth Mum' she interjects), and I have always really clicked. I've got two Mums. How cool is that? You know, I must ring A-Mum later and tell her what an awesome job she did. It must be hard raising a kid that your husband made with your sister and loving them as perfectly as she always loved me."

Her beer is gone, and she gets another. I raise one eyebrow at her, and she laughs, "Come on Dad, don't lecture me about drinking. You're the one bonking your sister in law. And holy shit, Aunty- Mum, ('mind fuck,' she says and even does a gesture,) Finn is my brother. I always wanted a brother, but Mum you know and wow... just wow."

Then she's quiet. She eyes us both seriously while she sips the beer and thinks. "So, obviously Uncle Simon doesn't know. It wouldn't be fair on him to spill, so I promise I'll keep it between us. But then, you're all butthurt 'cause he cheated and he like only did it once. You made babies..."

"Yeah... It never felt like cheating though. I loved your Dad forever. See." She showed her the ring. "It's a long story. Maybe your Dad can write it down sometime. But it was never sleazy, never weird, we just loved each other. We stopped that side of things when I married Simon."

"Holy cow. So, you and Dad love each other and bonk but you got married and stopped it to be faithful to Uncle Si, and he goes and woah..." She nurses her beer, "I guess I see why your butthurt at him."

We all sort of sit and soak up the new world we're approaching. We're still sitting there at half-four when Lizzie comes home.

"Hey guys! I was like, 'where the heckin' heck is my fam'. But you're all having some weird prune party in the tub. How long have you been in there?"

"Just getting out Sissy." Says Tiffany, "Come on you and I have to get tea ready. We're having a special dinner tonight to celebrate Aunty J and Uncle Si sort of fixing things up a bit.

"Really? I've been so sad for them."

"Really. I think everything is going to be okay somehow. After all, we're all family hey. That's forever love."

"Yup."

Trish rung. Well, she rung several times, but Jackie eventually answered and put her out of her misery. She passed the phone to Tiffany who beat it to her bedroom for almost an hour. Tea turned out to be baked potatoes with a range of condiments to mix in. It's one of the dishes that the girls both like.

We sat and chatted and then after tea, my big girl Tiff stood up and told Lizzie, "Hey sis. Let's do the dishes. Aunty J's had a long day and really needs Daddy. You know how much of a sook she is for him. How about we let them have the house tonight. We'll go camp in the caravan like old times. I'm sure Daddy will even let us take some beer out there, won't you Daddy?"

"Really Daddy, that would be like hella cool. Wait till I tell my friends."

"I guess girls. Tiff, you look after Lizz okay. Not too many." I tell them.

"Yessss Daaadddy." She groans, then whispers something to her sister.

"Um..." Says Lizzie, "I only have ten."

"Okay then," Tiffany winks at us, "We'll make it ten."

"So, if Aunty J's a heckin big skirt and ends up in Daddies bed again you win, and if she can control herself, I win?"

"Something like that." Tiff laughs.

................................

PEN TO PAPER

So, at my insistence, Tim has finally written this all down. It's pretty accurate and he's very kind with his descriptions of me. I just wanted to put a little note here at the end and explain why this silly day that's become so commercial is important to us. Essentially, we chose it as our Wedding day because it was the day we met.

I remember that day so well.

I was working in McDonalds after school, trying to make some money for the cool things I wanted that my oldies couldn't afford. They had three girls to raise and since little JayJay came along Mum had to stop work.

There was a dance at school that night for Valentine's day, but all of the other kids from school had got in first to take time off so I had the shitty closing shift. Late, near closing actually, I was wiping down tables. People are such bloody pigs. And he was sitting there alone.

He was smiling to himself and dipping fries in his chocolate sundae like a wierdo. My heart skipped a beat or two. He was so ridiculously cute in a geeky way. I recognised him from school. He was a year or two above me. I'd seen him around. I was fifteen at the time and had just started year ten.

Slowly gathering courage, I made my way table by table, closer to him till I was right next to him with my heart in my mouth, wondering if he'd even notice a little flat chested pimply thing like me. Then like a total doofus, he dropped his sundae.

He tried to catch it and just made it squeeze out even more on its way to the floor. Suddenly, our eyes met and his face just beetrooted itself brightly.

"Oh shit." He put his face in his hands. "So sorry. Can I have a mop or something please Patricia?"

He knew my name!

"No, idiot. That's my job. Hang on. I'll be right back." I was smiling so hard my face hurt. I couldn't believe he knew my name. Afraid that he would slink away in embarrassment while I was fetching a mop and bucket, some paper towel and oh my god, he knows my name, I tripped on my way back out to his table with my gathered stuff and dropped the bucket.

It splashed all over his jeans and the floor and it was my turn to blush and stammer. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. So sorry. I don't even know your name and I'm throwing stuff at you."

He picked up the bucket and handed it to me, "Tim. Let me help a bit. It's my fault this whole mess started."

And he did. He used the mop to clean up the spilled water and the ice-cream. I sat in awe at his kindness and well, pretty much just him. As far as girls go, I was still pretty much in the 'ugly duckling' stage of development and boys were not usually either interested or kind to me. There were cool girls and sporty girls and cheerleaders and such for that.

When he finished, he swallowed hard and said, "I'm really sorry, I wrecked your night."

If only he knew he'd actually made it. Courage defied me. I wanted to tell him. All I could do was blush like a silly thing and stare into his eyes. I opened my mouth to speak and nothing came out.

"Listen, Patricia..." He knew my name! He took a really deep breath, "Look, in fifty years no-one's going to even give a fuck about the sundae and the floor, but I'll really regret it if I don't ask you out. Can we maybe do something some time?"

I was still holding the mop bucket that he was trying to give me. My mouth was open, and I was sure I looked like a rabbit in the headlights. All I could do was nod.

"So. Um... Can I have your phone number? It's Valentine's day you know." He even blushed and stammered a little.

I took a pen from my pocket and a napkin from the dispenser nearby and placed the tip of the pen on that and started drawing the beginning of the loop that was our infinity.

It was a bloody rocky infinity. We were madly in love and I wish I could tell you it just worked perfectly. That we were each other's firsts and so on. You know the whole romantic high school love story, but he moved away for university before we got around to that. I think deep down he was hesitant to take things there while we were dating, because of how young I was and the fact he was a little older.

When he left, we promised to stay in touch and email helped but I was growing up and so was he and you know, life...

Four years later I was at a friend's house. She was throwing a desperate and dateless party. It was Valentine's day and while I wasn't desperate, I was between boyfriends. I was home from Uni for the weekend. My degree was almost done. Psychology was interesting and my marks reflected that. They didn't help me understand how I felt when across a crowded lounge room, I saw his face and his eyes found mine again.

We held each other's eyes as we dodged people and nursed our drinks until the rubber band that stretched between us drew us close enough for his hand to reach for my reaching hand and I don't think we ever let each other go ever again. Not in our hearts at least.

He had zero; absolutely zero moral objections to taking our relationship to a very satisfying next level about three or four times after he snuck us into his bedroom that night. The thing that was most profound was that while it was neither of our 'first' times, our first time together felt for each of us like the first time we had connected sexually at a level of intimacy that deep. "Like our souls were fucking," was the awkward way he described. I couldn't agree any more strongly.

So, Valentine's day became our nexus. A yearly reason to remember. Even when we may have struggled in our relationship through the year. It's not always simple to love someone. I travel a lot; he works long hours. From home, from work, but still, he's exhausted mentally and unavailable for me to check in with sometimes. And my work, bloody hell; some days I listen to broken people for so long that it makes me also feel broken and I'm a nasty bitch.

But always, we celebrate our connection on this day.

This year, the tub is broken. It's had a long and very full life but has finally succumbed to time and use. We barbeque and enjoy the pool. What started as Tim and my celebration has grown as our love expanded.

This year I watch from the kitchen window as I do dishes and Tim dries them. The back yard is full of the manifestations of our love. Tiffany and Elizabeth splash wildly in the pool, not so grown up that they can't still be kids. Finn sits to the side holding his little sister; Grace is almost three months old now.

And Jackie, my sweet little sister sits on Simon's lap and I can see her doing the same thing I am; appreciating our little world. It's wildly unconventional. But it's full of love.

He's looking at me curiously. I've stopped mid-dish while I've been reminiscing.

"You were wearing a name tag." He smiles at me. "And yes, it's a little unconventional but we're very lucky."

It probably won't ever be THE END.