Authors: Stephanie Beck
"We did, we did. They were gone less than a week when the letters started. Three a week, one from each individually, then they'd write one together. I have to tell you, there is so much lost these days in email, texting and technology. A good letter can change a person's world. They promised me the world, and by the end of fall I decided I wanted it. I reread those letters a hundred times until the creases started to tear. After I helped Marcy with the crops, I used my share of the money to buy a bus ticket.
"Paul and I married in a civil service two days after I arrived. We knew it was going to work out and, sixties or not, an unmarried woman living with a man drew the kind of talk Thomas and Paul wouldn't tolerate. I was more used to gossips from the Mormon days but I wasn't about to say no to marriage. Thomas was there as a witness right next to me but we kept things very sedate and traditional. We've been together ever since,” she said dreamily.
"Why did you marry Paul instead of Thomas?” Poppy had never imagined a relationship like the one she was in, let alone in the context of forty years earlier, so Mary's answers were illuminating.
"Because of the ranch,” Mary explained. “And their mother. She didn't want Thomas getting married until after he finished school. He was the favorite and unfortunately they all knew it, so my marrying Paul made things easier for them."
"Ah, that's too bad.” The thought of anyone slighting the men was a shame, because she knew how wonderful each was in their individual way.
"It was too bad,” Mary agreed. “But don't you worry, I make sure I don't make that mistake. Both twins are treated different but equal, and I haven't had a complaint in years."
"And Duane?” It was impossible to hold back a laugh when Mary wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. For every painful memory, the older woman found incredible silver linings and they tickled her.
"Duane was different. He was in the army during some of its worst years. I didn't meet him until after he returned, but he wasn't the man Thomas and Paul described. The twins expected him to join the marriage if he and I suited, and that was fine. In nine months I'd come to love Thomas and Paul fiercely, and if they loved Duane...I was willing to try.
"He was quiet but normal enough I guess, though he stayed in a sleeping bag near the fire instead of the bed we shared. Sometimes he talked to himself, and he disappeared for hours without saying anything. I tried to draw him out but it was as if someone had turned off part of his brain.” The memory infused her voice with sadness. “I don't know why but one night I woke and there he was, sitting at the kitchen table with one of my bread knifes. He'd sawed his wrists into a bloody mess. I woke the twins, and we managed to tie him up. He is a doctor but back then he was still a soldier. He fought his cousins, men he loved, like they were enemies. We threw him in the truck, drove all night to the VA in Helena, and got him help."
"Post-traumatic stress?"
"Yes, although they called it something different then. So many coming home were broken. It was an ugly war to start with, then the chemicals were added and it was impossible to know what to expect from the vets. Six months felt like a long time, but they did some talk therapy and evened his moods with medication. So much violence and pain...it was scary. On his way back, I fell in love,” Mary said, the dreamy quality back in her voice.
"He fought the attraction even after treatment because he was afraid of relapse. Mental illness was still a dirty secret in the sixties and seventies. Stigmas were huge, but I wouldn't let him pull away. Thomas and Paul promised me a third husband so I took him. There's no denying love, and I told him that very thing. He reminds me when I find myself exasperated with them, wondering why I stay with the crazy birds. Love."
"That's pretty amazing.” Awed by a story with such strife and reward, determination swelled. Compared to war, societal stigma and distance, her problems didn't seem as daunting.
"I like to think so.” Mary smiled. “And there's so much more. I've got stories that would turn your pretty hair gray but call for something stronger than coffee. Since you're pregnant and I'm lazy, we'll move on. Ask me a question, anything."
"What happened when other people found out about your relationships?” Kids weren't the only ones who could be cruel, and Poppy wondered what the ramifications would be when one day she walked with Trevor and the next with Michael.
Mary laughed again, but it wasn't a happy one. Time made it less bitter, she thought, but there was pain even if the older woman hoped to hide it.
She finally sighed and said, “Thomas told his mother, but she never did more than whisper Bible verses. The questions started after I got caught kissing Duane by a neighboring rancher. He told Paul. When he didn't get angry like the man expected, the ass blabbed to the whole county we were dirty hippy swingers like on the coast."
"That must have been hard.” Her heart hurt at the betrayal the family endured.
"It was,” Mary confessed. “Women I thought were friends stopped talking to me. Rumors about drugs and orgies flew. Holier-than-thou folks put me down whenever they got the chance, yet they were also the ones who stopped me in the parking lot and ask to join us."
Poppy nodded. Having others assume they could take part in her private relationship was something she'd worried about. Trevor, Cody and Michael assured her it would never be an issue because they would make sure everyone knew they had a private arrangement. Mary's situation hadn't had that luxury, because at least at the start, there hadn't been any sort of communication. “I can't see your men taking that well."
"They were angry, but the crazy thing was, their friends didn't act any different. They still went to Thomas for legal advice. Mamas still took their kids to Dr. Duane, and Paul sold more hay that year than ever before. Curious people would ask all kinds of questions and even when my men refused to add to the gossip, they were still friendly.
"Women tried to lure all three away, because obviously, I was the evil temptress in the equation. It got so bad for a while I couldn't go to town without being assaulted, sometimes more than verbally.” She took a shaky breath and gave a brave, reassuring smile Poppy didn't entirely believe. “They got over it. Margaret Jefferson ran out on her husband and came back a year later with a black baby. The woman with three husbands was old news."
"It amazes me how people want to police other's bedrooms.” A thought she'd had more and more since her bedroom activity had become diverse. “Like I care what you or anyone else does behind closed doors."
"We couldn't stay behind those doors though, Poppy,” she explained gently. “We had kids who attended school. Thomas and Duane have very visible jobs, so we had to find harmony with the situation. This community is a good one and it's full of decent, hardworking people but they're flawed, just like us. It's hard when something new comes along, especially with sex involved. Michael and Trevor were teased, and got in fights after kids repeated things their judgmental, gossipy parents had said."
Acid laced Mary's words. Sugarcoated, the truth was easier to swallow, but Poppy was thankful for the honesty, no matter how ugly. She needed to know what life for her kids was going to be like, and Mary was trying to help her understand by reliving some of her own hardest times.
"Not Cody?” Poppy asked, realizing the youngest brother had been spared the fights.
"By the time Cody started school, the older brothers and sisters warned their siblings not to mess with the Parabys.” Pride and amusement replaced the tension. “By then a kid with three dads was an old hat. The more we got involved with the community, the more people saw we weren't drugged-up, orgy-crazed hippies. We were just parents, working ones like them. I made cupcakes for bake sales and kept my kids in line, just like they did. It's not perfect now, the community isn't, but it will be easier for you and the boys."
"I can handle it.” Though her mind was full of possibilities and problems she hadn't even thought of before, she was reassured she could do what she had to.
"I believe you,” Mary said. “And I'll be here. I'd have given my left thumb to have someone walk beside me in that grocery store when I realized people were talking. Just one friendly face, that's all I wanted. What I had waiting at home made up for it."
"Three friendly faces?” she asked with a smile.
"Exactly. Not only were they friendly, they were loving, and even when things got hard they never stopped being loving.” Mary's soft and happy tone was a balm after sharing the ugliness. “Okay, ask me something else."
It took a moment for Poppy's mind to switch gears as it played scenarios of school life with her girls. She wanted them to be able to learn without fighting more than normal and Mary would have the advice she needed, but for the time being the heaviness could be put aside. “Okay, what would you say the best and worst things are about this kind of relationship?"
"Hmm, another good question, a hard one but...” She blew a breath, fluttering her bangs. “First. Three men love me. They say it every day. When I'm sick and ugly, they love me. When I forget deodorant or launch into menopause craziness, they love me. They have for almost four decades. The emotional benefits aside, I'd say I have the best sex life in the state."
The unexpected candor made Poppy laugh.
"Oh, I'm sure you've got it good, little lady, but my men have made a thorough study of pleasing me for thirty-seven years. There is nothing they won't do and I'll admit it, I'm spoiled rotten. One, two or three, any scenario and I'm a happy camper. Making love is always an event, not just a passing experience I barely remember the next day. I remember and remember and remember..."
She laughed again, and Mary nudged their shoulders together in camaraderie.
"That leads right to the worst,” she said, as the laughter ebbed. “I love three men with all my soul, and have for many years. What would I do without them? Without any single one of them? What would they do without me? One of us is going to die first eventually. Paul, this past summer...it was terrifying. They're my life. In almost forty years, we've raised three wonderful children together. We've built something amazing I never dreamed could be ours when we started, and I love them. I'm not ready for anything to end, and I'm not sure I ever will be."
"That's very sweet.” She laughed when Mary smiled blandly. “Well, it is. Good sex is a given—"
"Says who? Paul and Thomas didn't have a lot of practical application to their desires those first few months. There were planning meetings, question and answer sessions, and I'm pretty sure there were a few diagrams. There might have been a pie chart or two."
"Michael, Trevor and Cody have their little powwows too,” she confided and couldn't stop her giggles. “Then it's like Cody's the QB, calling plays and keeping everyone in line.” Her cheeks burned before she finished talking, even before Mary started laughing, realizing she'd divulged sexual details to her lovers’ mother.
"Hmm, Baby Boy's the boss man. I would have thought Michael took point."
Mary leaned over and patted her arm but she still wanted to crawl under the couch.
"Duane said the other night that it's getting harder to give the boys advice about sex during pregnancy, because you're becoming the daughter he always wanted. But I think between us girls we can be open and honest, don't you? Quite frankly, there is nothing I haven't done and if there is, I request details. Maybe we should start charts."
With Mary's candor she was able to laugh at herself, and the situation. The world was full of things to worry over, but Mary, with her honesty and humor offered sanctuary and understanding. She would always have at least three friendly faces to come home to, no matter how the rest of the world looked.
She'd never been part of a family that provided support beyond the most superficial way, and she longed for it. It wouldn't only be her men behind her, their family also showed support at every turn. For too long she'd felt alone. Even with her men, where the belonging and acceptance was starting to become real, she knew she held back. Wrapped up on Mary's sofa, she finally felt like she belonged.
Pain in his neck woke Cody. He looked around to find himself in Poppy's room, surrounded by his brothers. It was late afternoon when they migrated to her side. He knew his brothers would keep an eye on her, just like they knew he would, but after the latest scare, none of them wanted her out of their sights. Stars had replaced the late afternoon sun when Cody looked out her window. She liked to keep her room as open as possible, enjoying every bit of nature the space allowed. He was glad it was something they could give her. Lately they weren't doing things right when it came to Poppy, and every little thing in their favor was important.
He stood and found the bed empty. The bathroom door was open with the light off and she was nowhere in sight. He figured since she'd slept through dinner, she might have gone for something to eat. Leaving his brothers to sleep, he headed for the kitchen. After spending most of the day and night in the hospital, he needed a shower. Paperwork was piling up, and payroll needed to be done before he went to bed. But since he'd taken an impromptu nap, he'd probably be up until dawn anyway.
"Hi, handsome."
Startled out of his mental planning, he found Poppy curled up on the living room sofa with a book. The lights were dim and a small pen light illuminated the baby textbook Duane sent home with them after her first appointment at the clinic.
"Paul lit the fire for me and showed me how to bank it before I go to bed."
"I'll bank it later, darlin'.” A Ziploc of chocolate chip cookies lay open on the coffee table, so he sat and helped himself. His growling stomach reminded him he hadn't eaten since breakfast. “Is this dinner? I can make up some soup or hell, what did Duane say you should eat? Rice or something?"
"I ate with your parents an hour ago.” Her feet were bare beneath the fuzzy blanket she cuddled in. Without the makeup she sometimes wore and her hair limp around her face, she looked as delicate as he thought she was. Trevor said she wouldn't break and she agreed, yet with her freckled cheeks a little pale and her eyes soft she looked fragile.