*“Oh my god! Kitty! It is one tall drink of water FOR YOU!”*
*“You rang, Sir?”*
*“Oh, Pet! I haven’t called you that for a long time. How are you?”*
*”I am okay. How about you?”*
*“Been better. I suspect Sally has a gentleman caller. I dropped the kids off this morning after we
landed back. She took a very long time to answer the door and she looked…like she had been up to no good. I cannot begrudge her for that. Anyhow, I want you to come up to the chateau tonight. I cannot bear to be alone. I swear this place is haunted when it is just Muesli and I.”*
*“I will let the boys know..and how long am I out there for?”*
*“A few days? You ought to head out there now before the traffic gets too bad. Getting close to
rush hour.”*
*“Good idea. I shall see you later this evening.”* I went to my room and started to fill the overnight bag. Frank returned with Bruce from some outing.
*“Lots of things to tell you but I am heading out to the island this evening.”*
*“You going out to the chateau? Is that a wise choice?”*
*“I will be okay. If I have any problems, I will let you know.”*
*“I know him. He had better not fuck you around. He is in a bad place, Kitty. I am concerned you will come back in a worse position.”*
*“I just spent a few days with him. He is fine. Of course, he is in a bad place, his father just died. You would know what that is like, yours did too. You never told me how your Dad’s funeral went?”*
*“I was the only one there. Nothing to report other than collecting a box of ashes which is now in
the living room.”*
*“Where is Seth?”*
*“Out for a run…I will pass on my regards.”*
I got into my car and headed off. I started thinking about how I learnt to drive. I was a late
starter. I only got my learners licence in 1974. It was Stephen who took me out driving. It was a
totally innocent thing. No fucking in the back seat and the like. He took me out in the roads
around the city. By 1979 I had my full licence. I don’t like driving much in general though. I only
ever did it if I had to. I never had a flash car. I do have a rather distinctive car though – a hot
pink Corvette!
I jumped onto the highway. It was getting dark. I parked the car. Saw the time. All the cafes were shut, damn it. I bet if they were open longer, they’d have a roaring trade. I ended up going to the Angler’s for one. I ordered my usual mocha and took it back to the car. I sat there, the coffee was scalding hot. It had a potent aroma. It was part of the scent of Stephen. Stephen was a habitual coffee drinker. He could not survive three hours without an espresso. He reeked of coffee. I didn’t mind it so much but a few other people I knew didn’t like being all that close to him because of it. What did you expect? The man is a hard worker, he has to keep
awake somehow! I could not see the newly risen moon for the thick cloud cover, and the wind had picked up. Storms were predicted for the week. The roads were familiar, but coming out here alone felt different. The ferry ride didn’t take long at all and I walked with my bag from the wharf to the compound. You couldn’t miss it. The gateman let me through. He knew who I was. I felt sick to my stomach because I had just had this statement of love yet I couldn’t have faith in it. My shoes make clicking noises on the path towards the front door, A woosh of wind came by and ripped my scarf away from me. It was cold. Very cold. I went up to the intercom and rang the bell.
*“Is that you Kitty?”*
Stephen sounded so muted.
*“My tall drink of water…”*
*“Kitty…”*
His voice suddenly lit up.
*“Would you like to come in…it is rather late and the weather is shit…”*
*“I would like to come in and yes I will be staying for as long as you want me to.”*
The door opened. There he was, looking dark and a little surly. He had a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes. He was unshaven. Stephen with facial hair was something I had not seen since he was in his late twenties. I went through the door, and it blew shut. I put my bag down. Stephen had music playing. He had the fire on. It was that cold. I could smell roast cooking.
*“Is that just for us?”*
*“Of course. I felt I deserved a treat. Even more so…I think the treat just arrived.”*
I knew he was referring to me. Cold Stephen had been replaced by a Stephen that was much more
familiar and rather hot. He looked at me. He almost searched my soul with his deep blue eyes. Even with the facial hair, I knew it was Stephen. What had changed? I felt him step closer to me. I was backed into the narrow hallway. It was a pungent atmosphere of cooking, smoke and coffee. I broke out into a sweat. I was not sure whether it was nerves or the heat. Then he kissed me…
Any tension I felt just melted away. I was back on the same page as him again. His body was up
against mine. I remember feeling like it was a much wanted Christmas present. You knew what it was, but you were still dying to rip away the paper and see the inside. I then had thoughts cross my mind. It was moments like this that ended the Wilcox marriage. Sally would have read my book and thought, what the fuck. She knew her husband had an obsession of sorts with me. But she had no real idea how my feelings were reciprocated. I felt guilty but it was a guilty pleasure at the same time. It was not some *“nice to see you”* kiss. This was quite sexual…
*“Come with me. I need to talk to you.”*
He held my hand and took me upstairs into the master bedroom. This was a familiar spot. The
last time I had been in here with Stephen was back in 1984. I spent moments that year while recording, lying on the bed with him talking about nothingness. That time of my life still seems quite innocent. Feelings were not quite so tangled as they now were. It was plush. The furnishings were so very Wilcox, with shimmering metals and animal prints and bold splashes of red and blue. He had made the chateau his, basically. He was always given priority over any
other artist to use the chateau and the main studio. He shut the door behind him and I sat down
on the bed. I felt like I was going to sink.
*“I am doing my press work from here. I am not going back to the city. I like it here too much. I
mean, I will return to the city soon, I need to see my children more. But I like the peace out here too.”*
*“How odd. You can be a right party animal. Yet you are quite happy to be recluse. I know you have had your hard times Stephen, but it is me. What is on your mind?”*
*“I am sorry, Kitty. After last year, a lot was playing on my mind. I felt I need to get some distance from you. It is not your fault at all, it is mine. I had problems with my work. Hard album to record. I am not sure it is going to be well received. I have had to explain a lot to my children about what happened with my marriage. The triplets are not sure why their mother dislikes me so much, and Zinzan is hurting I think. There is the divorce. I am living in some crappy apartment in the city, alone. I don’t see my children much. I am fighting for more access. It is
hard. I stayed away from you and tried to disconnect from you because…”*
*“Because…what?”*
*“You know why.”*
Fuck it. I thought Stephen was about to say the three words I knew he had going around in his
head.
*“I love you.”*
He didn’t say it. I knew I was right. He loved me.
*“When is “Synergy” due out?”*
*“Little whispers telling you the album title…”*
*“Your Elijah is now living with my Rhiannon.”*
*“That would explain why he is not so keen to spend nights out there. He isn’t here tonight.”*
*“When is it due out?”*
*“A fortnight. Will you share the bed with me?”*
*“Yes.”*
It was like an unspoken rule. We sort of knew where we stood with each other. He served up dinner, jazzed up on shiny silverware. Stephen normally didn’t care for such fancy things like plates, knives and so forth. I had not felt this comfortable around him since 1984. That was the island for you and the chateau. I could hear the rain starting to pelt down on the roof. It created a wicked atmosphere. The house windows rattled as thunder rolled overhead. I could hear the trees coming close to breaking point.
*“So will you stay with me? I will look after you out here. I am sure Frank and Seth are not going to mind.”*
*“Can I make a phone call first?”*
I went out into the lounge and sat by the window. Stormy weather. Situation not that stormy. Frank and Seth had a fair idea of how Stephen and I operated. Seth just wished Stephen would be honest. So I dialled and my husband answered.
*“Stephen wants me here for at least the next two weeks. He said it would be okay to bring the kids
up whenever. Is that going to be okay?”*
*“Sure…is Stephen okay? I have been worried about him.”*
*“I think he will be fine. He will weather the storm, in more ways than one. The weather is a bit of
a shocker. I might not make it home anyhow.”*
*“I will let Seth know. Just be careful and yeah, I will organise a time with Stephen about having the
kids stay over. They haven’t been to the island for a long time and they have good memories.”*
My reasons for being there were two-fold. I had a man to get out of a slump. He had done the same thing for me some thirteen years earlier. I also just had to clap eyes on him. I needed to feel his presence. I swear he was like a drug of sorts and I had been on the worst withdrawal ever. I was somewhat dumbfounded by my call home. I knew Stephen would find me eventually, wondering why I did not trot back to where he was. We never were far apart, no matter. I sat in the nook. The cushions all around me, zebra print. So very Stephen Wilcox. So very me too. I felt myself being consumed by fabrics. What a time of utter confusion. Then I fell asleep.
I was having a dream. I could feel something in my space. As I opened my eyes, I thought perhaps I was still dreaming. I thought, my, this is peculiar. Where is the face fuzz?
*“Stephen…why are we back at that listening party?”*
*“You’re not. It is 1990. You are at the chateau. I am forty-four and you are forty-one.”*
I was a bit confused when it became clear, I was awake and indeed in the year of 1990.
*“You have tidied yourself up. Did you do that just for me?”*
*“I want to look presentable for you. Do you want to go to bed? You must be tired.”*
*“May I shower first?”*
How very presumptuous of me…I went into the master bedroom and through into the en-suite. It
was a pristinely clean bathroom. The silver taps were glossy and I felt like a dirty whore. We both had just assumed what was going to happen was the natural thing anyway. It was the same old story. Whenever we were close to each other, we ended up having sex. It was love making though.
I slipped out of my clothing and into the shower. The hot water felt like heaven. I grabbed the soap – some things don’t change, it was Pears – and started to slather myself up.That springtime scent evoked the memories of being at the homestead. I knew Stephen was within the range of which he could hear me.
*“In many ways, I feel like the nineteen-year-old who never quite grew up. You drove the
Interceptor down those skinny country roads in the valleys. There was the Wilcox house up against a ridge, surrounded by trees and agapanthus plants and the driveway just seemed to head to nowhere. We would swim in the river; it was only a short walk away. I never knew whether it was safe or not to do so but we did it anyhow. Wash the grotty river water off me with the sweet scent of the Pears soap and I wouldn’t even finish my shower when you
would pounce.”*
*“What can I say? When you squealed in delight at the dirty river water. I swear I was so turned
on by hearing you laugh and being such a jovial spirit. Hell, it made me so horny. I didn’t want
you to finish that shower, I wanted to be in you instead.”*
I giggled. As a kid, you had a range of rivers to swim in near home. Dad drove us everywhere. As a teenager, we had a river down the end of the street and Minnie and I were often found down there, having a chinwag and it was one of the last things we did as high school students. A walk along the riverside park after the last day of school in 1966.
*“You made me the happiest girl on the planet, and do you remember steamy bathrooms?”*
*“I do. It was always late at night. I would run the bath, and come to the bedroom, and take you.”*
*“Quite literally, I was bent over the bath while you fucked me and it was just…so humid and
sweaty and intense and I could still hear the taps running.”*
As I got out, I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around me. Well here goes nothing, Kitty…he
looked right at me. A curious smile on his face. My towel fell off me. It was miles too small anyhow.
*“Now that is what I am talking about”.* Stephen was remarking on my body.
*“What might you be doing?”*
*“Resting my back. Just a little. You forget I am getting old. Old and alone.”*
Was it to be time for yet more confessions?
*“You are not old and you are certainly not alone.”*
*“You are the kind of love I always wanted. The kind of love that would shatter glass and break
the bed. The arousal is incredibly potent.”*
I felt like the blinds opened. There was the “love” word.
*“Love – you said the love word, Stephen – love with Frank is just hard work by now. Seth is the
romantic, the kissy kissy kind. But that bold sexualized love I want comes from you.”*
*“It drives us crazy doesn’t it?”*
Yet I was before him, completely naked. It is the air around the island. Staff was first out here in 1973. He made use of the recording facilities to record his first three albums. By the time album four was ready, he had the studio at home. The last time he would record there was the soundtrack to Red Glass. It was a dark album, and the mood at home had already darkened by then. He was forever drawn into this place. The first footnote of what was between us had been was six years prior. The air was always the same. It became tense and somewhat sweaty with
some sort of sexual force.
*“I should have known better.”*
The last time I had been out here with Stephen, nothing happened because I made a point out of making sure I was never really alone with him for too long. Those thoughts flashed before me, and then dear Stephen was completely naked too. He was already hard and he made a tremendous effect on me downstairs. To the observer, anyone would have noticed how the blood rushed down to my pussy and the area was flush with a dew of my own. I nicknamed it the effect that dare not speak his name. I only ever said that around Minnie. He noticed.
*“Cannot help ourselves really. I cannot work out what is going on between us. I think you maybe
know, and maybe I do too. We always end up like this. You want to fuck me, and I want to fuck
you. But it…”*
There it was again. The trailing off. He could not quite say it, without incriminating himself.
*“There is nothing wrong with that. But it almost like it is our dirty little secret. Yes, it is dirty. I love
that. But little? Fuck me, we have been in this tango with each other for twenty-one years. Secret? Hardly. Everyone knows about you and me. Well some of it…”*
See, I couldn’t say it either. He came over towards me and put his hands around my face. He
was one of the few men who could look at me, and I would feel instantly stripped in some way. There was no silence though. No spooky weirdness. There was the constant rattle of the rain and a mighty wind. Trees creaking and one rather disturbed dog in the form of Muesli. Muesli was Stephen’s Irish wolfhound. Could he have really had another dog? They had to be tall to match his height. It was a constant rhythm which wanted to be the soundtrack.
*“Excuse me a moment, I may just put Muesli in the dog box.”*
I was left standing there thinking; why the fuck did you just ruin the moment like that? Granted, a
barking dog is not a turn on…when I first met Muesli, he was just a pup. The year was 1984.
Muesli had grown into a beast of a thing…a very well behaved dog who now lived permanently
at the chateau. The city apartment was not big enough for Muesli. Stephen swiftly returned.
*“I know what we are about to do again, should not be happening.”*
I was being cautious. I remember feeling somewhat agonized the year before.
*“But we are not doing anything wrong. We are two adults. We can do as we please. Who are we
hurting?”*
He echoed the same sentiments of six years ago. A massive crack of thunder roared across the chateau. The lightning in the heavens lit up the entire harbour. It was bad enough the
atmosphere in that bedroom had become supercharged with a power all of its own. So he
kissed me. It was ever so gentle. This is what somewhat scared me. He was never one to
tiptoe. Sheer force really.
*“I have felt like our acquaintance is like a glass tube. At the bottom marked lovers, the rim
labelled love makers. Over the years it was as if a viscous red liquid, not unlike blood has slowly
poured into it. It lay in state for some time. But somewhere over the last eight years or so, it
began to creep close to the tipping point.”*
At that moment, the power died. It went completely dark. I heard his words. Love making? We
certainly didn’t make this love up. It was a mess. We meet up with one another, we make love,
and we then go back to doing whatever it was we were doing before. He had a messy breakup
and I was wedged into between two boys. But this could go nowhere. Now the weather was ruining the moment for me. The rain was incredibly hard on the windows. I feared they may break. I imagined the shattered glass cutting my bare naked skin and the cold water drenching me. I could hear Muesli crying. Maybe this was never meant to happen. What if the weather had not intervened right there and then?
*“Did you know I am actually afraid of the dark?”*
*“Come off it, we had some of our most intimate moments in dark recesses.”*
*“With muted lights. It was never completely dark you know. I would like to be able to see you
properly. I feel like I haven’t seen you for such a long time. I am more a lights kind on sort of
man.”*
His torched doubled as a lamp.
*“Candles would have been more pleasing but I don’t want to set off smoke alarms. I do think we
have a rather steamy night ahead.”*
*“What are we doing?”*
*“Being intimate with one another, like always. How about we lie on the bed together, I am not in
a rush to do anything.”*
The bed was the perfect mixture of firm and soft. As I lay down, he slid in between my legs and
placed his head on my stomach. He was just resting. He was embracing that intimacy he spoke
of. We lay like that for what felt like forever. The light was rather dim and punctuated by the
lightning storm outside. Every time there was a strike, he shook a little bit.
*“I am scared of lightning too. Ridiculous isn’t it?”*
The rain was getting heavier and so was my breathing. here was my wet pussy resting up
against his…well it was obvious, his dick was pretty hard by then. It had been for some time.
The slightest inch in any direction and he would have entered me. We were quite comfortable
there in the ambient dark. It was almost as if we were too scared to make the first move. After
what felt like a lifetime – no words really spoken, just breathing getting decidedly heavier with
the tension in the air and I felt something. Sometime in what was apparently an hour and a half
of this state, Stephen had begun to shed tears. The man never cried. I had only ever seen him cry a
handful of times. Stephen, in general, kept himself together. Occasionally anger would get the better
of him. He always kept a somewhat sure quirk of a smile on his face.
*“Is that tears I feel?”*
*“Yes…”*
*“What’s wrong?”*
*“I miss my Dad.”*
His mother had died in rather tragic circumstances when he was a teenager so he had become
very reliant on his father for advice. He was very close to his father and Saul was a regular visitor. Cancer is a cruel bitch. A lot of this would have perfectly explained Stephen’s behaviour. On reflection, I realise now I was being a stupid selfish cow. Hindsight is a wonderful thing.
*“I am sorry for your loss, Stephen. It must be hard.”*
*“It is. I have cried an awful lot in the last couple of days. I feel like I have lost the most important
person in my life. I relied on Papa Wilcox for so much. When Mum died, he took over the
household. The cows, the sheep, the horses. He reduced his hours. All the things Mum used to
do. This is a part of getting old, isn’t it? Death.”*
*“Would your grieving play a part in our falling out?”*
*“No, but I think it intensified it. I was not myself before Dad died. I feel like my tears feel right at
this moment and for a while there, I thought I may never speak to you again. It was nothing you
did. It has all been me. That, I don’t know…it came back and bit me on the ass. I am not sure
what is about you, Kitty. But you seem to bring me back to sea level. It is either pulling me
out from the depth of the ocean or knocking me off the highest mountain.”*
*“But can you really rely on me to keep you stable?”*
*“It is just the close association we have.”*
He moved and he looked right at me. He started playing with my hair.
*“Lovers. Forever and always. Signed, Stephen Francis Wilcox, June the Eighth, 1990.”*
With that, we started making love. There he was, on top of me, moving ever so slowly. Oh, how I
love the way my pussy would hold onto his cock like that. There was something insane about it.
*“Go deeper.”* I wanted as much of him in me as possible. I forced my hips against his. I let out a gasp. He heard it. He asked if I was okay.
*“Stephen…I just don’t think we have ever really been in this situation before. It was always rather
hard and fast. This is anything but.”*
Whiplashes of lightning sent flashes of luminosity bouncing off the walls. It was a perfect match
for the electricity in the room. I could hear the rain. In symphony with my breathing. I could
hear Muesli barking like a maniac. He was usually a fairly placid dog to the point where you didn’t notice he was in the same room. I tried my best to ignore it. This just felt too damn good.
How fucking predictable. The lights had to come on at the conclusion of the sex. It was almost
as if it was done on purpose, but I know Stephen and I lay in a rather comfortable nook for the night.
It was most pleasant given our horrid track record of late.
> **9 June 1990**
>It is the evening of the morning after. I was pleased to wake up this morning and find Stephen still next to me with his arm around me. He didn’t just take off. Now there was always something about the mornings. I always forget he is a fan of morning sex because it is a good use of morning wood. Eventually, we had to get up when the phone rang. It was Frank. The kids will be here tomorrow and then in a couple of days, Seth will swing by.
As predicted, Frank and Bruce brought the five kids up. It ended up being a really nice family outing. Children had no complaints as Uncle Stephen was a perennial favourite. The uncle with the nice house, boats, computer games and there was always BBQ for dinner. Made me giggle in delight. Frank had to return home because of a magazine interview so Seth came up the following day.
*“Hello my beautiful. I am sorry I took off before I could say goodbye.”*
*“Hello, my dear. You sound well…and you know that was more than okay. Chord told me when I
came home. Are we healing old wounds?”*
*“Yes.”*
*“I know what it is like. I have been there myself. Just as long as he is treating you right.”*
“We had dinner. We talked. Some tears were shed. We had sex. I have just woken up
and well…I don’t think I have to be up here long. He is better already.”*
*“Perhaps I will come and pick you up. Thursday? I have to go up this way with the twins
anyhow.”*
*“Deal…I love you.”*
*“I love you too. Just don’t read too much into what is happening. The dust has to settle.”*
I didn’t get out of my bathrobe. There was no point. There was a caring factor and a loving factor
to the whole charade. I didn’t really care what the outside world thought. While we do not have
perfect declarations of love, we do understand each other better than most.
*“I thought my record was finished. The final master is due to be sent off in three weeks. Now I
did have a vocalist on the record – it was just Sam. Now this whole time I did wonder if Sam
alone was going to work. Will you?”*
*“Do I ever? Show me the music.”*
*“I thought perhaps the old chanteuse voice was gone. I have the radio on a lot up here and I
keep hearing your pop voice. “Did I Just Imagine It” – that is one hell of a tearjerker of a song.
Did you write it?”*
*“I did. I wrote it on Christmas Day of December of 1970. I was at my father’s. I was struggling
with seeing Trevor with Janice and Dad and Jolene were all over one another. I didn’t think it
was fair at all. Here I was, this newly christened high priestess of the piano yet I just got
dumped by the love of my life. Now, this was at a time in my life, where I wasn’t known for
writing songs. Yet I wrote that. I kept the sheet music hidden at home for years and I got talking to Storm about love and past heartbreak. Have had my heart broken several times, and only by
two people. That is an odd thing in itself. I haven’t had many romantic relationships. There have
been a few relationships of a largely physical nature that were not just rooted in sex. People like
Minnie, Alexia, Jamie…and well there is Blake.”*
*“What transgressions did you have with him?”*
*“Just the night of the school ball in 1966. The one where I saw Seth Barker kissing Bree
Bond and my world fell apart. Blake kissed me. When we got to my house, Minnie went and
slept on the chair in the corner of my room. I got tipsy. Next thing I know I was in bed naked with
him and we went to sleep. He fidgets in his sleep and he swiped me down there. I woke up and
realised I wanted an orgasm. Why waste the opportunity. So yes. He got me off with his hand
and because Minnie was asleep, I had to keep quiet. It ended up just manifesting in the same
insane twitching and quivering at his hands. We woke up the next morning, knew it was a once
off and went on with our lives.”*
*“I almost sensed something like that happened and one would be stupid and blind to not realise
Blake has been attracted you and Minnie this whole time. Can you blame him? You are cute
when you want to be, damn sexy too. Not to mention intelligent and talented and even more so
now we have seen you be a wife and mother. Those experiences are wonderful because it is
now feeding your song writing.”*
In my career to date, singing on “Synergy” was by far the oddest thing I had done. As a piece it
was constantly changing yet the motifs were repetitive. There was this chanting which featured
the distinctive tones of Samara Wilcox. I heard the master twice before I was to climb into the
studio and face the mike. All in a day’s work before it was mixed into the final master.
It was Thursday morning and I heard footsteps, New gravel had just been laid on the path. Again, Muesli lost his cool. Damn dog, I thought. He was a lovely dog but he was getting more skittish with old age. It was Seth. I looked out the upstairs window and decided to go down there and greet my partner. I felt ever so guilty, but then Seth knew deep down how I felt. Seth knew I loved him dearly. We were destined for each other. But I also have a deep love for Stephen given our close history and entangling. One does wonder…if we pretty much know where we are with one another yet none of us are willing to make the move, how long will this charade last? I answered the door, with my breasts threatening to spill out yet again.
*“Hello, my butterfly. I take it the old virtuoso has been looking after you well.”*
*“He has – you know how I feel”*
*“Indeed I do. But he hasn’t reciprocated it to you, has he?”*
*“I know he does but he just won’t say it. But then neither will I. Stupid game. I will go home and
it will be awkward all over again, I know it.”*
*“Only time will tell.”*
*“Of course.”*
Stephen came down the stairs.
*“Seth. How nice to see you. Do we want to take the butterfly home? She has kept me sane, so
thank you.”*
*“You look well. Kitty has that effect. You need to come back to the city. That record is
not going to release itself. Have your kids been up here?”*
*“They are up here on the weekends. I also make day trips into town. Didn’t think it was going to
be okay to have Kitty and my tribe here at the same time because I didn’t quite know how to
explain why Aunt Kitty was here alone. I suspect Xander has worked out her and I are a
thing. Where are the twins?”*
*“In the backseat. Jonquil is too shy to come out because she talked to you about boys. Zephyr
was asleep. How he manages to sleep on that road, I do not know. I left them in the car on the mainland. Promised said twins I would pick up mother and we would eat fish and chips at the
beach.”*
*“Simple pleasures with the kids.”*
*“Not easy to achieve when the twins are almost fifteen. Such time is precious.”*
*“I know. Xander will be thirteen soon. I hate the fact I haven’t been well mentally. Marriage break
up, creative difficulties and affairs of the heart..all leading to an almighty depressive slump no
medication could fix. Kitty has helped me a great deal. Look after her. Love her. You treasure
her so much.”*
*“I do. You know where we are if you need help.”*
It was not that he had isolated himself. His children were regular visitors and he had thrown in a
few day trips while I was there. He didn’t think it was going to be okay to have me and the
children there at the same time without proper explanation.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/8e809a/bach_flower_remedy_mf_str8