Ride Me Dirty(22)

"I can't believe my mom never told me," I said. "I can't believe she turned her back on him after he lost everything."

Sally shrugged matter-of-factly. "I remember your mother. She was in my  sister's class in high school. As soon as she graduated, she was out of  here." She snapped her fingers.

I nodded. That much I'd heard from my mother. On the rare occasions that  she mentioned her childhood in Bridgewater, she was always quick to add  that she'd escaped this Podunk town as soon as she was legally able.  Knowing what I knew now, her sudden departure took on a whole new  meaning. She hadn't left because the town was small or backwards or even  ridiculously conservative, which was a complete joke. She'd left  because she didn't like the way Bridgewater people fell in love.

A new thought had me staring open-mouthed at Sally. "Did my …  I mean, were my …  oh shit, were my grandparents polyamorous?"         

     



 

Sally let out a sharp bark of laughter. "They sure were."

They'd died when I was young and I didn't really remember them, but with  this new information, pieces of a puzzle clicked into place. "So my  Great Uncle Albert-"

"Was your grandfather."

Holy. Shit.

"They were happy, too," Sally added. "A solid team, a role model for younger people like myself and my husbands."

"I can't believe my mom never told me."

Sally gave my arm a little pat and I realized then that I was staring into space with my mouth still hanging open.

"Even though she grew up here, I don't think your mother was ever comfortable with the Bridgewater way."

All I could think of was duh.

Sally moved past me toward the kitchen. "If you ask me, that's why she stopped coming here."

I looked over at her in confusion. "Why? Why stop coming to visit  entirely and all of a sudden? Charlie was a nice man, from what I  remember. Everyone I've met this week has said so."

"He was, honey." Sally stopped in the doorway to the kitchen. "But your  mother …  While she may not have been comfortable with the Bridgewater  way …  I think she realized that you were."

I held up a mug with a picture of South Dakota's Corn Palace, frozen. "I was only a kid, what did I know?"

"Exactly," Sally said. "You didn't know enough to judge anyone. But you  liked it here, had fun even, and were comfortable with the people who  were living a lifestyle your mother ran away from. Cara's family.  Others, too."

I couldn't keep the bitterness out of my voice. I put the mug down with a  hard thunk. "So she stopped bringing me here because it made me happy?"

Sally shrugged. "I could be wrong. That was just my take. You'd have to  ask your mother if you want some real answers about what happened back  then."

Sally went into the kitchen and I heard her opening cupboards and  filling a kettle to make some tea. More than likely she was trying to  give me some space to process what she'd just told me. It made sense-all  of it. Charlie's inherent sadness was a result of a tragic accident,  and the reason my mother ran from Bridgewater was because she didn't  approve of the lifestyle.

But why would she deprive me of my friends and extended family? Then I  remembered Sally's comment. You'd have to ask your mother … .

Without thinking about what I'd say, I pulled my cell out of my back pocket. Shit. No service.

Going into the kitchen, I picked up the phone from the wall, dialed. It  suddenly seemed urgent that I get some answers. "Hi, Mother," I said  when she answered on the first ring.

"What's the crisis?"

"There's no crisis, I just-"

"Then why are you calling me in the middle of a work day? You never call during the week. Did something happen at work?"

"I'm not at work." I had to spit it out before she started in on her line of questioning. "I'm in Bridgewater."

The answering silence was brief but telling. It took a shock to shut my  mother up for more than a heartbeat. "What are you doing in  Bridgewater?"

I walked into the mud room by the back door, stretching the phone cord  as far as it would go. "I have to deal with Charlie's house, remember?"

Another pause. "I figured you would have hired someone to clear it out and put it on the market. You didn't have to go there."

"I wanted to."

She sighed on the other end of the line. "You always did like that godforsaken place."

And now we were getting somewhere.

"Yeah, I did like it here. That's one of the reasons I'm calling, actually. I was curious about why we stopped coming."

The silence was too long this time. She really hadn't seen that one  coming. "I take it you've been there long enough to see that Bridgewater  is a unique place."

Unique was one word for it, but my mother managed to make that word sound like an insult. "It's definitely unique," I agreed.

She sighed again. "Okay, Catherine."

She was the first to call me Catherine in a few days. The name sounded weird now.

"What is it you really want to know? Did I grow up in an unorthodox  family? Yes. Was Charlie in a polyamorous relationship? I imagine you've  already learned the answer to that." Her voice was filled with  impatience, which is pretty much how she sounded all the time, come to  think of it.

"Why did we stop coming here?" I twirled the cord around my finger. "Stop seeing Uncle Charlie?"         

     



 

"That is no lifestyle to expose an impressionable young girl to. You  were getting old enough that you would have started to figure out what  was going on, and your father and I didn't want that for you."

"God, Mom, you make it sound like the people of Bridgewater were performing satanic rituals or something."

Her tone hardened. "I know all about what goes on in that town,  Catherine. I grew up there, remember? Had two fathers, even. I knew that  what was going on around me, even in my own house, wasn't normal."

I toyed with a line of clothespins clipped to a string by the door and  tried not to lose my temper. The anger welling up in my chest was  tainted with sadness, regret. I'd been happy here, dammit. I'd been  surrounded by people who cared about me more than they cared about their  careers or their image. Yet, My mother had chosen to end that. "It may  not be normal, but that doesn't automatically mean it's wrong."

"We didn't want that life for you. I still don't." Suspicion crept into her voice. "What is this about, Catherine?"

When I didn't answer right away, she continued. "Don't tell me you're thinking of staying there."

I opened my mouth to say No, of course not. I have a job to get back to. But the words wouldn't come.

"Catherine." She drew the word out as a warning, but I'd had enough.  She'd confirmed what I'd suspected from the moment I'd learned about  Bridgewater's unique ways. She'd kept me from this place for propriety's  sake, even though it had made me happy. She was filling my head with  her negative thoughts on the place even through the phone. Being here,  meeting the people, seeing it with my own eyes, painted a different  picture entirely.

"I've got to go, Mom. Good talking with you." It really wasn't, but I  had no idea what else to say. I wasn't going to call her later. I wasn't  even sure I really loved her. Not in a healthy, normal way.

I hung up before she could respond. I'd heard enough and walked the  phone back to the wall base. Sally turned to me holding two mugs of tea,  handed me one. "What did your mother say?"

I forced a rueful smile. "Nothing I hadn't already guessed." That she  and my father had put image and propriety above everything else,  including my happiness, Charlie's happiness, and a loving community. No  wonder my mother had fled from this place-she'd always been looking for  normalcy. Always cared more about fitting in than being loved. And  that's what she'd wanted for me, too. A normal life. One that fit the  ideal life she'd set her sights on. That she'd attained.

The sad thing was, in my mother's opinion, I was living the dream in New  York. Sure, my marriage had been a bust, but what was one little  divorce? Everybody who was anybody in the city had one of those under  their belts. What mattered to her was how my life looked on paper, and  on that count, I had it all. The Ivy League education, the law school  diploma on the wall, an up-and-coming career at a leading firm …  what did  it matter that I was miserable? My day to day life was filled with  work, stress, and more work, with the occasional trip to the gym to  break up the monotony. Because one couldn't forget that the perfect body  was also part of the deal. Looks mattered almost as much as income and  job title. I'd bought into that hook, line and sinker. Until now.

God, the thought of going back to that was almost too depressing to bear.

My mother's words came back to me. It wasn't normal. She was right about  that. Life in Bridgewater wasn't normal …  but it was better. Better than  the life I'd been leading in New York, at least. If I went back there,  I'd be going back to day after day where I was too busy to meet a nice,  single guy and go on a date, let alone have a meaningful relationship.  Hell, my job in New York left me no time for a simple friendship outside  of the office.