Dreams Ch. 03

Fran said, "Oh, I didn't know you had a steady guy. What's his name?"

I blurted out, "Tom. He also works at the same company I do -- so do some of the others. He runs the purchasing department." I'd have to remember to cue Tom in to behave 'exclusively' for a couple of days.

I moved the conversation back to her situation, and how we might get her out of her bad home environment. She lived twenty miles away. Our companies were only a few miles apart.

"Could you move out today -- this afternoon?" I asked.

"Yes, I guess I could. I mean there's a lot of stuff we share, but all my personal stuff could fit in a car I suppose."

I thought for a moment and said, "OK. We're moving you this afternoon -- right now!" Fran looked surprised and pleased, but also incredulous.

I grabbed my cell and called Tom. "Hey, darling, we've got a situation with my friend Fran Drake." He knew who she was. "We have to move her out of an abusive household this afternoon -- before five when her husband gets home. This is a full alert for the family -- she's going to move in with us for a while until things straighten out. Her hubby beat the shit out of her on Saturday night."

"Where? How fast?"

"Right now." Fran gave me the address and directions. I passed them to Tom. "We're leaving the house right now and should be there in half an hour or so. You're closer. Wait a block or so away for our phone call. And we need cars -- vans preferred."

Fran looked at me with a sense of awe. In a quiet voice she said, "Thank you. I don't know how I'll ever repay you."

"Don't think of that now. The job's only beginning. We've got to get you separated too, or divorced if that's what you want -- and safe."

We shot down some back roads and then the Interstate to Fran's home. It was in a nice neighborhood, but frankly was the worst looking house on the street. Fran checked the house to make sure Carl wasn't there. I called Tom and in sixty seconds two vans and two cars pulled in front of house and into the driveway.

Josh, Tom, Dave, Peter, Mar, Beth, Greg, and Linda piled out of the cars and got introduced to Fran. Everyone hugged her. I warned them to be gentle. I heard the words, "We love you" a lot. Fran got all teary again.

As we went in the house I told Fran, "Don't touch anything, just tell us what we should take. And, dear, take anything you think you're entitled to, you won't get a second chance."

Half an hour later our caravan of vans and cars swept out of the neighborhood. Each vehicle was full. Thirty minutes later we pulled into the Niland Springs house and unloaded. We moved Fran into Bedroom Z. It had a nice view overlooking the pool. We followed Tom's rule and put Fran's name or initials on the few pieces of furniture and the TV she'd taken. Fortunately, her bedroom had a large closet to stockpile her clothes and other belongings and still leave her room to move about.

Tom, Greg, Linda, and I sat with Fran and talked about her situation and what to expect. Greg disappeared for a few minutes and returned; he winked at me. I didn't know what was up but I just knew he'd done something about the situation.

We talked about what to tell Carl when he called. He'd arrive home and not find Fran there and the home stripped. He'd start calling. The consensus was not to talk to him directly, but to go through someone else -- someone he didn't know and couldn't trace. We turned off her cell phone, understanding that with the right friends and equipment the phone's location could be traced.

We heard a car pull up. Greg got up with a smile on his face and went to the door. A moment later, he walked into the room with a talk imposing man in his late fifties. The man was in a dark pinstriped suit, a crisp starched white shirt, and a rep tie. I was sure I could see my reflection in his shoes.

"Friends, I'd like to introduce J. Edward Harris III. He is an attorney, personal friend, and he just happens to specialize in divorce law."

Ed, as he liked to be called, had a commanding presence and the ability to focus in on the person of interest. After only five minutes mostly talking to Fran, he said to us, "Who has a camera?" Several of us raised our hands.

"I want photos, right now, of every bump and bruise on this woman -- no makeup, head to toe, and then we'll continue the discussion of next steps. As indelicate as this may be, if there are bruises around her sexual area, I want those included. These are a legal necessity I'm afraid, particularly if things get ugly."

Fran, Linda, and I went up to Linda's bedroom. Fran explained she'd tried to put makeup on everything that showed so needed to shower. We waited for her to shower. She returned with one of her large towels wrapped around her.

Linda said, "All right, strip. No time for modesty."

Fran dropped the towel and blushed. I focused the camera and for the next ten minutes took about fifty photos of her body, occasionally taking a full-body shot, so a particular bruise could be seen in context. While Fran re-dressed, I took the camera to my computer, downloaded the pictures, checked them, and then burnt two CDs with the photos on them for the lawyer.

I joined the discussion in the living room, presenting the CDs to Ed Harris. He thanked me. I listened as he explained the process of serving Carl with divorce papers, the charge of abuse, getting a restraining order, and so forth. He recommended changing her cell phone number and several other things that would make it more difficult for him to harass her. He told her not to talk to him under any circumstances. He also insisted that Fran go to her local police department and file an abuse charges after the fact. He said he would accompany her on that duty as soon as we were through.

I drove Fran as we followed Ed's Mercedes to the Pattersonville Police Station. Fran's car was still back in my company's parking lot. We were in and out in about fifteen minutes. It turns out the dinner hour is a slow time, plus Ed had called ahead and gotten us an appointment with a detective he knew. We left a copy of the CD with the detective. He looked at the pictures on his laptop and also confirmed a few of the more obvious bruises himself.

Outside the police station, Ed gave Fran a little pep talk. He said she'd done every thing right so far, except for not getting out right after her beating. Now, the job belonged to him and the police department.

It was eight o'clock when we got back to the house. Everyone had waited dinner for us, so we walked in and sat down with the entire family. Fran looked exhausted, but thanked everyone for their help and for the coming battle she was sure would reach our doorstep. "Carl can be really obnoxious when he wants to be. I hope the shit doesn't splatter around her too much."

After dinner, I went with Fran to her room and made sure she had everything she needed to get through tomorrow. I assured her we were all here to support her, gave her a hug, and said goodnight.

I came back downstairs into Dave's arms. We hugged and he praised me for coming to Fran's rescue. We talked about the situation as he held me almost as though we were dancing. Soon the idea of a swim came up. The two of us stripped naked and then walked out to the pool and dove in. Tom and Beth were already in the pool. Greg and Linda also came and joined us. Everyone was nude as was the custom at the house.

As we sometimes did, we floated around from person to person, kissing them and sexually playing -- for instance, a fondle of a penis, a kiss and suck on a breast, a finger inserted in just the right place. We were all aroused pretty quickly.

I heard Greg invite Beth to a liaison on a lounger beside the pool. She gave him a broad smile and floated into his arms by way of accepting. Her long brunette hair, wet from her swim, streamed out behind her and halfway down her back as she stepped out of the pool. I thought how sexy she looked, and appreciated that the two of us were also lovers.

Dave made a similar invitation to me, and we captured the other long lounger only a few feet from Greg and Beth's. Tom led Linda to an Adirondack chair.

The six of us made love in the dim light cast from the underwater pool lights. The eroticism of the night was greatly enhanced by the proximity of the others. After all of us came, we returned to the pool for a rinse of the sweat and sexual juices we'd created, kissed everyone goodnight, dried off, and walked off to various beds. Dave wrapped his strong body around mine and I slept in peaceful bliss.

Fran and I were up early. I'd knocked on her door to be sure she was up, but she was already awake and brooding about her situation. I hugged her and assured her things would work out. I felt her stiffen at my hug, but just chalked it up to anxiety.

In the kitchen as we started to eat, the others in the house slowly started to appear -- all in various states of dress. Josh came in wearing boxers, as did Dave and Tom. Greg had put shorts on and was more dressed for the outside world. Linda and Mar had only a t-shirts on. Beth was wearing a loosely tied robe with nothing under it. Fran studied each person, occasionally gawking as someone's sex showed.

We'd developed a new custom now that we all lived together -- or almost did, and that was to greet each of our chosen family with a hug and morning kiss. Consequently, I hopped up from the breakfast table a lot to greet and kiss each person. We were all smiles.

Out of decorum, each person also came by and said 'Hi' to Fran, usually touching her shoulder in some way, although not with the hug and kiss. Fran didn't quite know what to make of the situation; even though halfway through the arrivals I explained our new custom to her.

Fran's car was still at my work, and we had a few more hours of work to get through before what we'd finish what we set out to do the day before -- before her breakdown, confession, and then her rushed move into our group home.

Fran called her office and explained to several people, including the HR department, what her situation was. Apparently, her husband was already hanging around there waiting for her return to work. She told them she'd be out the rest of the week, as well as the point that a restraining order might be in hand later in the day.

As arranged, Ed Harris, the lawyer, called my cell phone about ten in the morning so he could talk to Fran. One result of it was a quick trip down to his offices for her to sign a bunch of papers, including the request for the restraining order. Another was an appointment with a domestic abuse counselor that evening. On the way back to work with me, she went by a mall and got a new cell phone number.

We had lunch together. I suggested she work in the conference room the rest of the day and then follow me home in the afternoon. She liked that idea. As the day went on I still felt there was something bothering Fran that she wasn't talking about. I figured it was all the problems with Carl, but still ...

When we got home we put her car in one of the garage stalls and shut the door so it wasn't obvious where she was. About five o'clock, a matronly woman showed up at the house and asked for Fran. It turned out to be the domestic abuse counselor. The two of them went off to the living room and talked for over an hour. Fran looked more relieved when the woman left; I think she'd gotten some reassurance about how things would go in the coming weeks.

We set up a group dinner again and everyone showed up, in part to express their support to Fran. Greg produced a box of house keys on lanyards for each of us. He said, "If Carl gets too curious he'll trace Fran here, and then who knows what'll happen -- so let's keep the doors locked. Until this blows over I think we should be locking up the house, especially at night, and we should also use the alarm system." We all gathered around and he demonstrated for us again how to arm and unarm the alarm.

After dinner Fran gave a big sigh, looked at me, and asked, "Can we talk -- in private?"

I said, "Of course," and led the two of us out to the patio.

Fran started awkwardly, hemming and hawing around some question that was obviously on her mind.

"Fran, we have no secrets here. We're very open and you can be too."

She rolled her eyes and began, "Well, last night, after I went to bed I heard someone splash in the pool. I was curious so I looked down from my window." She gestured upwards towards the house and her room. Suddenly, I knew what was coming.

"You all ... had sex ... and you weren't with your boyfriend. You were all naked -- and you played -- sexually -- with each other."

There wasn't actually a question there, so I just said, "Yes."

Fran's mouth was hanging open slightly and she was flushed.

"Fran let me explain. This is a home built on love -- actually polyamory, meaning love among several people. It started with Tom and me, and then Mar, and then Dave, Peter, and Beth, and then Josh, Greg, and Linda. We are what a friend of mine on the west coast calls an 'Intentional Family.' We make this union with each other through love and caring -- unconditionally. By extension, you are part of our circle of love."

"But, I'm not sure ... Oh, I don't know if I could be ... do ..."

"There's no pressure for you to do anything that any of us do. We enjoy our nudity and the glory of the human body. As you observed last night, we enjoy making love with each other and we appreciate the lustiness in our nature. You don't need to be a part of that to be here -- Greg and Linda weren't at first either."

"Your brother? What about him? Do you ...?"

"Yes, I do. I love him dearly, and of course I have all my life. Just recently, we found a new dimension to that love -- that's why he's here. He loves the others well, and they love him. Think of the sex as a result of the love, not just as an end in itself."

"Oh, wow! I just don't know ... I mean, I was raised Methodist and ... there were pretty strict rules ... and a lot of talk about sin. This sort of blows my mind."

I'd become pretty adept at delivering Tom's relationship manifesto. I launched into a chat with her about memes and relationships, our ability to love multiple people at the same time, the sliding scale of commitment, and all the other areas I'd thought about based on Tom's thinking and my own. Fran seemed to hang on every word.

With her consent, Linda joined us. Occasionally, she'd add in some piece of wisdom or share how she'd looked at the world. Fran gradually warmed up to us as our conversation advanced; the coolness I'd felt earlier in the day dissipated.

As the sun set, Dave and Beth came out wearing swim suits, no doubt in deference to Fran. Somehow, we'd all forgotten about the view she might have had the night before from her bedroom.

Fran thoughtfully said to the pair as they walked by, "I understand that skinny dipping is the custom around here. Don't feel you have to wear those suits on my behalf -- and, please, be yourselves."

Dave and Beth both looked at each other thoughtfully then walked over to one of the chairs and removed their suits. The naked pair strolled to the edge of the pool and dove in together. As they came up from under the water, they were laughing and teasing as we normally would.

Mar came out also in a swimsuit. A word or two from Fran and she quickly got the drift of the evening, left her suit, did a "Ta dah," for those of us seated, her magnificent breasts shaking in the evening air, and then turned and also dove into the pool. She quickly joined the other two with hugs and kisses.

Josh and Peter were next, their dongs swinging in the breeze as they jumped in. They too were soon embracing and playing with the others.

Greg was the last to come out. He too wore a suit and quickly dispensed with it. The others in the pool welcomed him with open arms, and, of course, sexual advances and breasts pushed against his manly chest. He was making the others embarrassed they didn't have graying chest hair.

Fran, Linda, and I continued to talk. Fran eventually asked, "If I wasn't here, would all of you be making love out here?"

Linda laughed. "Not all of us, dear -- only most of us; the rest would be making love inside. This group is so much fun. I've had more sex in the last few weeks that the last few years of my simple married life. I so love this life style." She paused, and to accommodate Fran added, "I know the style isn't for everyone -- some probably see this as Sodom and Gomorrah -- but for me this open loving style is something that was missing in my life and I didn't even know it. The love I feel here is a dream come true."

Fran said, "But don't you feel ... well, slutty ... sleeping with all the men?"

"No. No more, than I felt guilty because I loved each our three children. You can love more than one person; just in this case we attach some sex to it. As for feeling slutty, well, I feel a warm glow 24/7 -- if that's what this is all about, I don't care what people label it." She paused and added, "Oh, one last point. The women all make love too -- we're all bisexual."

Fran's jaw dropped open and she swung her head to look at me. I just grinned at her. She said, "How'd you know? How'd you start?"

I told her about all the dreams I'd had, and how I'd discovered that first Mar and then some of the others in our circle had had nearly identical dreams. I told how Mar and I had coupled up at first after a shared dream. Beth came up beside us as she dried off -- her beautiful body a statement all by itself. She said, "We still wonder why we had common dreams. They seem to have stopped, but what we experienced leaves us with many unanswered questions."

Fran said, "I have a friend ... a psychic that specializes in dreams. I think most of what she does is dream interpretation, and she's read about everything ever written about dreams."

"We'd love to talk to her. Is she local?"

"Yes. I'll set something up tomorrow -- maybe for the weekend."

Our conversation turned to other topics, and gradually the numbers by the pool dwindled as we all faded away and went to bed -- to make love and to sleep. The patio was quiet that night.

*

Fran had stayed home during the day. Beth and I had gone in early, so we were home about three o'clock. When I first got home, there was no sign of Fran. I worried that she'd gone someplace that Carl might find her.

Soon, however, I found her in morose ball in a chair out by the pool. As I came to her, she looked up at me and sobbed, "Oh, Ariel, why am I such a bad judge of men? Why did I let this all happen to me?" She balled.

I moved beside her and hugged her. I tried to sooth her and gradually she came back to the real world, sad about her shattered marriage, but more willing to cope with her next steps. We talked about how smart people can do dumb things once in a while, and what lessons she might have learned from her marriage besides the obvious one about an abusive person.

Beth joined us and was equally empathetic with Fran's situation. She also hugged her, and offered solace to the unfolding situation.

I got us all glasses of wine. We joked about starting 'happy hour' at three-thirty rather than five o'clock, but she chugged down her glass. We all did.

Fran showed us her journal -- a book she'd kept when the abuse had started. She'd documented all the dates and ways in which Carl had gone after her. She let me read a portion of it. It was tough reading and brought tears to my eyes, particularly her descriptions of being thrown against a wall, or having her face smashed into the floor as she was kicked or raped. In another section, she talked about how she started to study makeup so she could cover up her bruises. The dates went back over two years.

"Did all this start just two years ago?" I asked.