Dale had no memory of the plummet, but he would never forget hitting the ground. The fall was like one of those drunken blackouts from his college years where the floor seemed to rise up and meet him as the nosedive began. He’d made a young man’s miscalculation, only he was almost forty now. He was doing age-appropriate labor, cleaning out the leaves clogging the second story gutters. The job was right but not the execution. This time the sloppy plunge was from atop a fifteen-foot ladder instead of his roommate’s kitchen stool. When he landed his spine made a sound like tree branches snapping. It happened so fast. One second he was working, and then his foot slipped. He was descending, and then all the air was blasted out of him.
His wife, Blair, was kneeling over him. Next to her, nestled close behind, was Dean, the third member of their recent throuple. Dale was supposed to assist with their growing foursome by getting his own girlfriend, but he hadn’t been successful yet. The therapist told them he could take it slow, but it had been over a year and still nothing.
“What can I do for you, honey?” Blair asked. “Anything.”
“The ambulance is on the way, Sweetie,” Dean said in his lilting tone. It always looked like he was wearing makeup on his face, but Dale decided it was just some kind of shiny cream.
-
Blair loved him. Dale knew that. They’d been together for eleven years. He guessed the idea was that eventually Dean would love him too, and he would love Dean, and Blair would love Dean, but he was having trouble figuring how all of it could be true at the same time. When Blair told him that she wanted to change their relationship from monogamous to polyamorous, Dale was reluctant. He didn’t want to share the woman he felt closest to in the world, but she was so serious about it. She’d already mapped out everything in her mind. For every contention Dale raised, she had a rebuttal. He wondered when she had the time to contemplate something so complex so thoroughly. It was jarring, yes, but it wasn’t as though he’d never considered a similar idea himself. Since college he’d dabbled in bisexual encounters, and he’d fantasized about what it might be like to experience a wild night with four kinksters at once, but he never thought Blair would want the night to last forever. In the end, Dale relented. Her proposal was too meticulous, her happiness too important, for Dale to refuse.
-
Dale couldn’t speak. His ribs and lungs had collapsed. His pelvis was cracked in three places, and with his airway constricted it was a real possibility that he was dying.
“Uhhh-bugg-uh-wuh,” he stammered. He sounded like Frankenstein. He couldn’t get the words out, but he could move his arm. He reached his hand up to his throat and grunted.
“He wants us to undo his top button,” Dean said. “It’s too tight.”
Dale nodded.
“Oh, okay,” Blair said. “I can do that.” She unbuttoned the collar and Dale let out a loud gulp.
“What’s this now?” Dean asked. “What’s he doing now?”
Dale slid his hand down his stomach and fumbled with the zipper on his pants. He gave the area a little tug and moaned.
“Oh,” Blair said. “Oh my.”
“Does he want what I think he wants?” Dean asked.
“I’m afraid it’s not possible, Dale,” Blair said.
“One… last… time…” Dale managed.
“Who does he want?” Dean said. “Which one?”
“We can’t,” Blair said.
“We must,” Dale said.
She wasn’t used to him using such decisive and curt phrasing. Usually he was a whiner, “oh, come ooonnnnn, can we pleeeeeease?” His voice was thin and croaky, like it might be the final thing he ever said. Because of this, and because he looked so pitiful lying there with his eyes all watery and his body deflated, she acquiesced.
She unzipped his pants and climbed on top, careful not to put too much weight on his hips. After a couple of cautious and lopsided thrusts, the ambulance arrived. The woman who hopped out was nice enough to avert her eyes as Blair wiggled her way clear of Dale’s crumpled body. She waited until all the moist flesh had unstuck itself, all the noises faded away, and then she got down to business.
-
The birth of their daughter brought jubilation. They named her after the paramedic, Lorrie. When people asked why they chose the name, they would tell them that it was in honor of “a very kind woman who entered their lives at a very crucial time.” Dean and Blair liked putting her on the couch between them and making googly eyes at her. They’d coo in her face and pinch her soft pink skin. Dale made it a ritual of taking her into his room alone and laying her on the bed each morning as he was getting ready for work. He liked telling her about all the adventures he’d had in his life. There was the farming commune in his twenties where he learned how to live off the land and use a composting toilet. In his thirties there was The Helios Group that started out as an organization to build solar panels and morphed into a society of Jesus freaks that forced them to stop bathing and grow absurdly long beards. That one might have been a cult. Okay, so that one was definitely a cult, he told Lorrie, and they laughed and squirmed together on the king-sized mattress.
-
When Dale asked if they should get a paternity test, Dean and Blair responded with ire. It was as if he’d asked if he could take the baby to get a tattoo on her first birthday.
“Oh, why would you even ask such a thing?” Blair said. “You’ll mess everything up. The balance… The harmony.”
“Really, Dale,” Dean said. “It’s such a blessing. We’ve been wanting to raise a baby together, and we got Lorrie. Whatever or whoever made this happen is inconsequential. Just accept it as a gift and be happy. This is a new beginning.”
“Yes, Dale. He’s right. That’s the old you talking. It’s 2024. Be grateful for this blessing. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”
Dale supposed he understood. The antiquated way of doing things was to find out who the father was and have a two-parent structure raise the child as a unit. The modern method was to divide the mother/father duties and spread the care evenly between three, four, or even five parents. It didn’t matter who the father was because in a sense there was no father. They were all fathers and all mothers under this new arrangement. Still, he wanted to know. It would be different if he was the rightful father. He’d feel more accomplished, more deserving. Though he knew it was his beleaguered ego driving the inquiry, it didn’t stop him from wanting the truth. It seemed like such a small thing to ask when he had given them so much.
One night, Dale got it in his head that Lorrie could help him. Not his daughter, but the EMT who saved his life. If he couldn’t discover who the real father was, he could at least find out which of them Blair loved more. Lorrie might hold the key to his answer because she was there to observe them in their most vulnerable and uninhibited hours. If she noticed Blair tending more to Dean’s comfort during the catastrophe, that would mean something different than if she was more concentrated on Dale’s well-being. His last second request for sex had been a test of sorts, but as he had lost consciousness immediately after, he wasn’t sure what grade she or Dean had earned. He wasn’t even sure what the answer would mean if he was able to get it, but it would mean something. The answer itself would be something singular and tangible. It would have to be, and he needed something concrete to hold onto right now.
-
Dale still had Lorrie’s contact information. Several months ago, when he had finally been released from the hospital, the three of them had gone out of their way to procure her address so they could bring her flowers together. In the end, Dean and Blair vetoed the gesture. It didn’t feel right, they said, too intrusive, too extravagant. Dale disagreed but as was becoming the norm, he was outnumbered.
To Dale’s surprise, Lorrie lived on a lavish, tree-lined street. It wasn’t that she didn’t deserve to live in a nice neighborhood, it was that she didn’t seem to manifest it. Everything about her presence, her calling, exuded modesty and utility. She was no-frills, at least to Dale’s recollection, and something about the area did not reflect that notion. It was nearing dusk and a few streetlights flickered on. A couple kids rode their bicycles home for dinner, racing by on the sidewalk. He wasn’t sure if Lorrie had kids of her own, but he didn’t think so. Something about her was too calm, too composed to be a parent.
Dale took the stairs to her porch slowly, leaving time to escape if he changed his mind. He was startled to find that when he reached the door she was already there, peeking out of the small glass window at the top. She was smiling, either because she was happy to see him or glad that he was still able to walk upstairs by himself after such a horrific accident. She got on her tiptoes and peered behind him. When she had confirmed whatever she was looking for, she let him in.
“Dale,” she said, in a warm, inviting voice. “Come on in.”
“Thank you,” Dale said. “I didn’t know if you’d still recognize me.”
Lorrie laughed. “Are you kidding? How could I ever forget?”
She was just as he’d remembered, tall and gawky with dark brown hair and lots of muscles for a woman. She probably wouldn’t be what most men found attractive right away, but she could grow on someone. It was her cool demeanor that put her in an alluring category. That’s why she was so good at her job. One had to be poised and collected if they were going to drive around in an ambulance all day cleaning up the messes that people like Dale made all over town.
She led him through the kitchen and into the living room. One of the first things he noticed was an assortment of exercise equipment covered in various types of fabric. There was a treadmill draped in a shaggy quilt and a stair-climber cloaked in a canvas tarp. There were barbells on the floor, but even those had been bundled with zip ties and pushed into a corner. The second thing he noted were the mirrors. There seemed to be one on every wall. They were all different forms and sizes. The biggest one was shaped like a lotus flower and hung over the couch. A few of them had quotes stenciled on the bottom, little sayings like, “Take a leap, and build the wings on the way down,” and “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.”
Dale sat under the lotus flower and tried to get comfortable. Lorrie was clattering around in the kitchen.
“Would you like a cocktail?” she asked. “I’ve been drinking mint juleps lately.”
“Sure,” Dale said. “Who doesn’t like fresh herbs in their liquor?”
“Match made in heaven,” she said.
When she came into the living room with the drinks, she caught him reading another of the aphorisms on a fish-shaped mirror near the fireplace.
“I used to be depressed,” she said. She set the drinks down on the coffee table and sat next to him.
“Really?” he said. “I never would have guessed.”
She laughed again. She had a big, bewitching laugh. “How could you?”
“Tell me about it.”
“The depression?”
“Yes,” he said. “Tell me all about it so I can know.”
Over the next half hour, between trips to the kitchen for more juleps, Lorrie told him about how her ex-husband used to say horrible things about how fat and stupid she was. When Dale asked for more details, she brushed him away.
“You really like digging into trauma, don’t you?” Lorrie asked.
“I guess so,” Dale said. “I like to get to the bottom of things. It’s like therapy.”
“Is it?” Lorrie said. “I’ve never been. I’m on the opposite track lately. Alternate remedy.”
“Really? What is it?”
“Disregard the outside opinions of hurtful people. Get out more, stay distracted by positive things. Think less about heartbreak. The less wallowing the better.”
“I’m sorry he broke your heart,” Dale said. “He was wrong, you know.”
They locked eyes and to his amazement, he didn’t look away. She broke the gaze first.
“I guess I should ask why you came,” she said.
“I mean, if you don’t like talking about trauma, maybe you shouldn’t,” Dale said.
“Oh no,” she said. “It’s serious. I’m sorry.” She put her hands on his knee and leaned on him. She was a little drunk.
“It’s okay,” Dale said. “I don’t even know how to explain it.” He sighed. “Dean and Blair, my wife, the ones you met during the fiasco, they are in a relationship together, and Dean is her boyfriend, her third wheel, and I’m supposed to have a fourth…” he wasn’t making any sense. Between the juleps, and the oddness of everything happening, and his basic inability to describe his situation to anyone even at the best of moments… he didn’t know what to do. “Okay,” he said. “Phew, okay. Let me just take a breath and start over.”
“Take your time,” Lorrie said. “I think I know where this is going.”
“You do? Can you explain it for me?” Dale asked.
“You are feeling overwhelmed about the sticky situation you’ve gotten into, and for some reason you want me to tell you what I think about it. Is that about right?”
“Yes, sort of…” Dale said, “You’re doing better than I am. You see, I wanted to know if you noticed anything when you were taking care of me. Anything telling about how they, Dean and Blair, felt about me, like really felt...?”
“I could tell there was something going on between Dean and your wife, and I didn’t know how you fit into the equation. I didn’t know if you were a brother or a friend or lover… I mean, I assumed you weren’t siblings for obvious reasons…” She raised her eyebrows, then aimed them down at his crotch. “But honestly, I just tried to do my job. I don’t know, man. I’ve seen everything in my time. Literally everything. You have to think less, react more.”
Dale was silent for a moment. “So, I guess that sort of answers my question then.” He lowered his head.
Lorrie squeezed his knee. “Look, whatever your question was, it doesn’t matter. You already had your answer before you came.” She tried to raise his head with a curled finger. “But you came anyway.”
He was close to tears. “You don’t think I’m too square?” he said.
“Square? Who cares,” she said. “That’s something my mom used to say.”
They kissed, and in quick succession they were naked. She was an aggressive partner. The way she tore his socks off, he thought his foot might come off with them. When she got on top of him, she slipped her hands under his butt cheeks and clawed them with her nails. She bit his ear. Dale liked it at first. He’d never been handled quite like this, and it was making him hot. After a few minutes, Lorrie stood up abruptly.
“What?” Dale said. “What is it?” They were both panting.
“I want to try something. Do you want to try it with me?”
“I guess so,” Dale said. “What is it?”
“It’s a new position,” Lorrie said. “I saw it on OnlyFans.”
“Okay,” Dale said. “I guess we could give it a try.”
Before he could finish his sentence, she hoisted him up and spun him sideways. She had him sticking straight out like the wing on an airplane, and then she tried stuffing him into her. She kept ramming and ramming. When it didn’t work right away, she braced herself against the wall for more leverage.
“Hold on,” she said. “Maybe this will work.”
Dale was losing steam. Though Lorrie was doing most of the work, there were calisthenics on his part too. His ab muscles were on fire. She was thrusting so hard that his penis felt like it was folding in half.
“I’m not sure,” he said. “I don’t think…”
And then, with one last heave, it happened. He entered her, his body jutting out like a right angle, like a perpendicular line to her straining chassis. From this stretched and shaky position he was pointed directly at one of her mirrors. He could see his arms locked against the glass, quivering, his chest trembling. His face was turning purple.
“Could we maybe…?” he said. “Could we try something easier? Maybe more enjoyable?” His back injury was flaring up, a searing pain in his lower lumbar.
“Only if you really, truly want it,” Lorrie said. She was growling against the exertion, and all at once it was clear to him what she was doing. “Is it what you want? Say it!”
“Aaaaaargh!” Dale said. He wanted to be sure. He gave it one last shot. It was no use. In another second his arms would give out, and they’d both go crashing to the ground.
“Say it!” she hollered.
“I do! I want it!”
She laid him down gently on the sofa, and after a spell of gasping recovery, they began their uncoupling, their intricate realignment.
AWESOME story