Some time back, I received a phone call from a woman who identified herself as a writer. She was born and raised in Texas and very much interested in the role women have played in Texas history.  Being from California, I couldn’t help her much, but I did agree to meet with her in town at the café.

Lex was unsure of the reason the woman wanted to visit, so she decided to tag along to make sure that everything was on the up and up and I was safe.

On the day of our appointment with the writer, we dropped Eddie off with my step-mother, Lois, and went on to the café. The girls would be in school for another few hours. So, other than the chores we put off that day, there was really nothing keeping us from meeting with the woman. Believe me, we tried.

I was nervous. If Lex was, she didn’t show it. Well, other than the death grip she had on my arm. But other than that, she was the very picture of calmness.

A middle-aged woman with short hair and glasses stood as we entered the café and motioned us over. How she figured out it was us, I have no idea. Maybe it was because the café’s server, Francine met us with, “Hey, Lex. You sure a lookin’ good, honey.  Manda, that gal of yours better appreciate you all to hell.”

No, we had no idea how the woman knew it was us.

Well, we had the meeting and finally relaxed into our story. The woman set her digital recorder to ‘on’ when she heard us going in the direction she was interested in.  We had ordered lunch, so sometimes our narratives were interrupted by a crunch or two of salad and the hiccups I always get when I eat hamburger.

At one point she asked, “Let me get this straight.  You,” she pointed her fork at Lex, “you rescued Amanda from a raging river? And together you fought off cattle thieves? And raised the youngest one? And you came face to face with a bull? And…”she rephrased the story of our lives so fantastically that we hardly believed our own lives.

All in all, it was an enjoyable afternoon. Well, I enjoyed it much better once we cleared up a few facts with her. But mostly, we had a nice visit.

Time went on and I forgot completely about it. But yesterday, a package came in the mail from a publishing house addressed to “Lex and Amanda, RockingWRanch, Texas”. Good thing she had our zip code right or we’d never have received it.

I waited for Lex to come back from the stables before opening the package. And there it was. Our story. With Illustrations?  Huh? Oh Geez. It’s a children’s book! “My Mommy Raises Cows!”

Amanda.

After a few years being childbirth free,  Somerville finally had a run at the hospital about a year or so ago and now there are a whole new batch  of offspring to care for.   You can imagine the relief when a new child care center opened in town. The old one at the church was unused and in disrepair, but I managed to convince Lex to convert the Sunflower Realty office into a proper day care center, and we advertised for someone to run it.

My grandmother was delighted that we were giving new life to the old place, and tremendously enjoyed decorating it.  After six weeks of looking, we found a director to run the place and an elementary school teacher to handle the educational aspects.

The mothers volunteered for a day of playground duty, diaper changing, and taking care of meals and snacks in the kitchen that we added on so as not to diminish the space that was going to serve as the main room where most activities would be carried out.

We had a fantastic time fixing the place up and getting it ready for the first day of pre-school.  Kay, the director, and Judy, the new teacher, took to their new jobs like fish to water.

Our fifteen month old, Eddie, was going to attend.  The girls were too old, and we were going to follow the same routine with them as usual on school days, but Lex and I thought it would be nice if I could have a day off at least once a week and spend the day with my family in town and then pick the girls up after school.

“All packed up and ready to go?” Lex opened the front door and took Eddie’s diaper bag from my arm while I jostled our boy into a more comfortable position.

“All set.  Promise you’ll miss me?”  I gave Lex a coy look and a saucy wink.

She responded by putting the bag in the back seat of the Expedition, taking Eddie from my arms and buckling him into his car seat, and closing rear passenger door.  Then she turned to me and pulled me into her arms and held me tightly against her while she plied my face with soft kisses that took my libido from zero to sixty in less than a second.  I started to moan and reach under her duster to run my hands over her back. Just as I thought I was getting somewhere, she pulled back and patted me on the behind. “Promise you’ll miss me?”

I swear I would have gotten even with her if I could have done more than deal with my racing hormones which were playing my favorite scenes from our years of loving each other.

Eddie began to fuss, so I reluctantly got into the SUV and shook my finger at my wife, who seemed to be having her own difficulties, if those darkened eyes of hers meant what they usually do.

Once at the day care center, Eddie toddled to some brightly colored toys that had caught his eyes.  There were already a half dozen children, and we had worked things out so that with the proper help, we could manage a dozen or more and keep the state and federal agencies happy.

The kids loved it. Eddie barely noticed me leaving.  When I said I’d be back soon, he actually waived me off and resumed his spot of the floor to push a big green truck back and forth.

The hours passed, and my grandma decided to come with me to pick Eddie up.  Martha had taken the lunch shift, lucky kids, and afternoon snacks were being handed out.

The children sat around a long, low table, just their size, to wait as the teacher addressed each one by name and gave them their snack.

Kay came over while Judy and a teenage helper passed out the treats. “Thanks for bringing a change of clothes for Eddie.”

“You’re welcome. After all, he is a Walters, and he’s bound to need them for one reason or another. So, what did Master Disaster find to get into?”

Kay handed me his diaper bag. Inside, there was a plastic bag that had the clothes he had worn to school. “Paint?”

Kay looked at my grandmother and me apologetically.  “Finger paint. The five year olds were finger painting and Eddie took exception to the age discrimination.”

“Oh no, “ Grandma said. She’d had Eddie over enough times to understand what a strong willed little boy he could be. “Was it bad?”

“Well, we had been intending to decide on a color for that planter near the back door.”

I walked back to the back door that let out into the play yard and saw red, yellow, and blue finger paint all over the planter, the plants, the dirt in the planter, and just about every surface his little fingers could reach.

“Eddie! What did you do?”

“Puck!”

My eyebrows flew into my hairline.  “Did my son say what I thought he just said?”

Eddie looked innocently at me and then back at the mess he’d made.  “Puck!”  Kay just looked at me, obviously confused.

Judy came to his rescue. “I had the privilege of cleaning Jason up after Eddie tried to stick his hands in each paint cup on Jason’s easel.  Jason was none too happy and decided he didn’t want to finger paint anymore. He said, “Paint! UCK!”

Eddie beamed at hearing the words he thought he was saying, “Puck!”

I gathered Eddie into my arms and set his diaper bag’s shoulder strap in place.  As soon as I got into the SUV, I called Lex who immediately called the cleaning service we’d hired and asked them to make an early trip to the school instead of waiting until the evening.

My grandmother went on home, and I decided to pick up the girls and head on home for a nap. Eddie was starting to smell like he was in need of a diaper change. Unfortunately though, before we’d even pulled away from the school,  Mel asked her brother if he liked school.

He nodded.

“What did you do in school today, little man?” Lorrie asked.

I will never forget the look of horror on his sisters’ faces when he plunged his hand down the back of his pants and retrieved something god-awful smelly and proceeded to paint his car seat with it.

“Puck!”

Lex is very indulgent of my penchant for discovering geeky toys that I must own and have needed all my life because, since closing the real estate business, I’ve discovered that I really am a computer addict.

I’ve replaced Lex’s old desktop computer with one that manages the household electronics such as lights, thermostat, and timed devices.  It also runs our wireless network.  Lex’s laptop is the one that manages the farm and backs up to an external drive.  The kids have a notebook computer that they take turns using for school projects.  And I have my notebook computer that I use for my blog, general web surfing, and to shop for more geek toys.

“What’s this do?” she asked while pointing to the object in the CompuGeeks ad for the week. “Is it the same as this one here?”

“It’s a tablet, an e-reader, that I can get my email on and use like a computer, but it’s a lot more portable.”

“But you already have a laptop computer, Amanda. We have plenty of computers.  Do we really need one of these?”  Lex stared at me like she was trying to figure out meaning of life.

I forgot the thread of conversation for a minute, because all these years later, I still get lost when she turns her gaze on me.

She snapped her fingers, bringing me out of my haze.

“Um, Lex.” I got up from my chair at the kitchen table and sat on her lap, straddling her thighs. I leaned in and kissed her, letting her feel the heat of my passion for her.

When I pulled back a second time, Lex moaned, “I’m not sure what we’re talking about, honey, but can we finish it upstairs?”

It’s now three weeks later.  I love having a tablet.  When I can’t sleep at night, I can use the tablet to browse the internet, send a few emails, and read online.  That brings me to the real subject of this email.  I got a reply to my Amanda Speaks! Blog, telling me about some stories I might enjoy.

I really haven’t indulged in Lesbian fiction before, but I have to say, some of it is very inspiring. Some of it has been educational.  Some of it is beyond my ability to suspend belief. But there are a few stories and series that I’ve really enjoyed.

One of the stories had to do with this writer in Texas, a few hundred miles from where we live, who wrote stories on the internet.  She wrote this story that she started receiving e-mails about from a grateful reader.  They became correspondents online, then friends, then fell in love. The reader had been trapped in a horrible marriage and had a child by her abusive husband.  The writer, despite her own personal problems, reached out to the reader to lend encouragement and her friendship.  They eventually fell in love, and the reader found the strength she needed to break out of her misery and to establish a life with the writer, whose love was so freely offered.

I really liked that story.  There was so much in it that reminded me of how Lex and I feel about each other, and it made me appreciate my loving wife even more.

I snuggled next to Lex while she read it the next morning. “Amanda, did you see that this story is based on real events?”

“Can you imagine being that poor woman and feeling so alone and sick and miserable, and then having her whole world, and her daughter’s world turn around and become a haven of happiness for all three of them?”  I brushed the hair back from Lex’s forehead and planted a kiss on it. “I love you, Lex. You rescued me, too.”

“I couldn’t let you drown in that creek, Amanda. Besides, one look at you, even wet and shivering, and I was a goner.  I love you, too, Amanda.  Hey, maybe you should write our story.”  Lex pulled me close until I was snuggled under her chin and my arms were wrapped very securely around her back.

“I don’t know.  Our story might be a little unbelievable.  I think I’ll stick to my blog.”

I looked up to see what Lex’s reaction was, and she kissed me. Once more I forgot what we were talking about and just went with the moment.

Twelve years. Twelve wonderful, crazy, eventful years of our life in a story?  Nah!

Amanda.

It was an ordinary afternoon. The weather was chilly. It had been raining for two days in a row, the kids were restless and the ranch needed all hands to make sure the stock got fed.  Now that we are a cattle ranch as well as a horse ranch, there’s even more to do when we have inclement weather.

Lex tugged on her boots and waterproof duster. Then she put her gloves and black cowboy hat on.  Have I ever mentioned how incredibly sexy she looks in her black cowboy hat?  Can you imagine how my hormones went crazy the first time my eyes focused on her after she pulled me out of my Mustang when the covered bridge collapsed?  I was a goner as soon as I saw those beautiful blue eyes shining out from underneath that weather beaten black cowboy hat.

I’m still a goner. So, right after she went into the hay barn, I put on my warmest jeans, the shirt that she gave me years ago that used to be her younger brother’s and my boots and followed her to the barn. When I could tell Lex was absorbed in thought while she loaded up the truck with bales of hay, I climbed as silently as possible into the loft.  Once there, a creaking floor board gave me away.

Lex looked up to see me standing at the edge of the loft.  “Amanda?” She had the cutest expression on her face. She was obviously puzzled. What was I doing up there? I decided to see how quickly I could jog her memory.

“Can I help?” I carefully got as close to the edge of the loft as possible. Naturally, Lex moved closer, just in case I lost my footing, which I naturally did.

I let myself go and she promptly moved under me to catch me in her arms. “Feel familiar?”

“Amanda, what are you—Oh. Yeah. This seems a bit familiar.” She kissed me and the years melted away.

As she nuzzled my neck, she spoke softly to me, “Do you know what is different about this time?” Then she sucked on my earlobe and I  forgot what we were talking about.

“This time,” she said, “it’s a dozen years later. And my back just locked up. And I have no earthly idea how to put you down without screaming in pain.”

“Oh, Lex! I’m so sorry. Let me—”

“No! Don’t move.  Let me think.” Lex turned around in a small circle and finally figured out that if she got me close enough to the tailgate on the truck, she could put me down there and lie down next to me without it hurting too much.

It worked. There was a lot of wincing, and the sound of wind being sucked in through teeth, but I finally stopped doing that when she was in a comfortable position and I could make myself stop with the sound effects.

I put a small pile of hay under her head and lay down beside her. Then I ran soothing fingers under her shirt to relax her enough to drive the truck to the house and get her inside.

That was the thought, anyway. But Lex had other ideas. My soothing fingers led to her probing fingers and suddenly the thought of back spasms was all gone.

For old time’s sake.

I love you, Lex.

Amanda.

Jeannie and I were talking about how motherhood has changed us both and how hard it is to keep our priorities in order when it comes to our mates.  Poor Lex has been nearly consumed with the cattle business, supplying aged meat to some of Austin and Houston’s finest restaurants.

Keeping up with the kids and managing the house have been more challenging as each year has gone by and the kids get older.  Good old-fashioned romantic evenings are few and far between.  Our spirits and libidos are willing but our flesh keeps saying, “What, are you nuts?”

Jeannie said she and her husband made a trip to Austin and did a little shopping. She handed me two packages and gave me a wink.  “I think you’ll enjoy your romantic evening.”  She told me to wait until Lex and I were getting ready for bed to open the presents and not to open them in the same room. “After all, part of the fun is the surprise.”

That night, when all three kids were asleep, I handed Lex her package and retrieved mine. “What’s this?” Lex asked.

“Something from Jeannie. We’re supposed to open them separately at bedtime.”

“Jeannie?  Are you sure it’s safe? You know your sister, she loves to torment me.”

“I know, but the package is soft. So I figure it’s safe.” I took my package and went into the bathroom with it. Lex decided to sit on the bed to open hers.

“What the fuck!” Lex laughed out loud and came to the backroom door.  “Amanda? Is your sister even a little bit sane? What in the hell?  What are we supposed to do with these?”

I opened the bathroom door and struck a sexy pose. “Like what you see, Slim?” I sashayed past my wife and turned around and played with the front zipper.  It just screams sexy wife, doesn’t it?”

Lex was speechless.  She fingered the material in her hands and said, “I’m not putting this on.”

I went to her and rubbed against the flannel shirt she was wearing. Static filled the air and tiny sparks of electricity could be seen due to the friction of the materials.  “C’mon, sparky. Give it a chance.”

Grumbling, Lex changed into what could only be described as bunny pajamas. Dr. Denton’s for adults. Complete with the flap on the backside.  Finally, we both stood in front of the mirror on the dresser and took stock of what we looked like.

“Well it is warm,” I offered.

“I thought they were supposed to be romantic,” Lex complained. “I feel like a two year old. I thought it’s supposed to make us sexy.”

“Sure to a herd of rabid bunnies.”

“What do you think, Amanda?”

I played with the flap on the back of Lex’s Forever Lazy Adult One-Piece PJ’s and hummed a little bit.

“What are you thinking?”  I must have had that look on my face that made Lex think, “Danger, Will Robinson!”

“Let’s just see what we have here.”  I played with the zipper with one hand and brushed the other hand over the material starting at the collar and down to Lex’s thighs. Then I turned her around and started rubbing my hands over her back and down to the flap in the back. “This could be useful,” I said as I slipped my hand between the flap and her skin.

Lex shivered and I was inspired.

The next morning, Jeannie called while we were still waking up. We’d shed the pajamas hours ago, but they had served their purpose.

In her most smug voice, Jeannie asked, “So, did you like your presents?”

“Mmm. Did we ever. Thanks!”

Lex took the phone and said, “Great idea, Jeannie. We need to go now.”

I could imagine the shock on Jeannie’s face when she realized her joke had backfired. But that thought quickly dissipated when Lex started nibbling on my collarbone and running her hands down my body. Oh yeah! Great gift, Jeannie.

“You know, Lorrie, the food is all going to go to the same place.”

“Eyewww, Mom! Not while I’m eating.”

I heard Lex snickering while she wiped Eddie’s face with a washcloth.

“And what’s so funny?”

Lex beamed with pride, “She’s just like I was as a kid.”

“Was?” I pointed to her plate and repeated myself, “Was? When did now get to be was?”

Sure enough, Lex’s plate had the meat to one side, the mashed potatoes on the other, and the steamed vegetables made a perfect triangle of food that absolutely, positively, did not touch each other.

She grinned. “Okay, how about this. I’ll move my veggies right next to the mashed potatoes and they can sit side by side?”

“That’s gross, Momma!”

I stared at both of them while Mel blissfully swirled her broccoli spears through her buttered mashed potatoes before taking a bite. Well, I guess that little talk about table manners bears repeating.

Eddie picked that exact moment to spit up.  No one said a word. They just cleaned him up and sat him back in his highchair.

I had to ask before my brain exploded from the strain of trying to understand my loved ones. “None of you batted an eye when Eddie spilled the contents of his stomach.”

“Why would we?” Lex asked. “All babies spit up. It’s no big deal.”

“But the thought of your meat touching your mashed potatoes disturbs you?”

“That’s just icky, Mom! I mean, we’re not going to eat Eddie’s barf!”

How in the world did Lorrie inherit Lex’s penchant for separating her food on her plate? I was just about to ask that very question when I noticed that poor Mel’s face had gone white the moment her sister had mentioned Eddie’s barf.

“Momma, I don’t feel so….”

Another memorable dinner at the Walters had just come to an end.

I love my sister. I really do. As siblings, we were childhood playmates and tattle tales.  As teenagers, we were each other’s confidants and rivals. We have an unspoken bond that says no matter how stupid the idea, no matter how many times we try the same thing to the same disastrous end, we will defend to our last breath the right of each other to give something ridiculous one more shot.

Thus, Thanksgiving at the Walters is being brought to us by Jeannie, my sister, nature’s enemy of all things culinary. She wanted to try just one more time to host Thanksgiving.

I broached the subject with Lex. “Oh, please, sweetheart. I’ll be there to help.”

Lex paced back and forth in the bedroom. I could tell she was trying her level best not to be negative, but she was also aware that as she got closer to being forty years old, her stomach had its own ideas about what she is allowed to put into it. And none of those ideas included poisoning at the hand of her dear sister-in-law.

“One condition. It’s all I ask.”

“Anything.” The way Lex looked so pitifully at me made me cave in immediately. She could ask anything of me. That’s how effective her pout is with me. Fortunately, she saves it for really important things, like when I’m too tired for, well, you know.

“Ask Jeannie to cook the meal here.  We have a much larger kitchen and there are places to put things. We’ve got that huge fridge and you and Jeannie can do the prep work here on Wednesday so she won’t be overwhelmed.”

“That’s really thoughtful of you, love. No wonder I married you.”  I patted the bed next to me, inviting Lex to join me.

I tugged her down beside me and wrapped myself around her.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Lex grinned and could hardly suppress chuckling before letting me in on the joke. “Rodney told me what you were up to, so I’ve already put a fire extinguisher in each lower cabinet, just in case.  And there’s ipecac in each upper cabinet. And there are 2 buckets of sand in the mud room.  And since Rodney will be here, we’ve got medical care covered.”

Later that day, we told the girls that their Aunt Jeannie would be cooking Thanksgiving dinner at our house. Lorrie looked as if she were going to cry.  “Aw, mom. You know Aunt Jeannie can’t cook. She can barely manage peanut butter sandwiches. If it weren’t for microwave ovens, they’d all starve.”

Being the helpful sort, Lex had to go there. “How’d she set fire to the last one, anyway?” Lex pretended to ponder the circumstances of each disaster.  “I remember when she plugged one into a 220 line. Then there was the one that caught on fire cause she put an aluminum pan in it.”

“Mommy, remember the last one? Aunt Jeannie… mmph!” Lex had her hand clamped securely over Lorrie’s mouth. She’d noticed that I was going from chagrined to pissed off in record time.

“If you are all quite done.” I glared at Lex and Lorrie. Melanie had crawled up onto my lap and hugged me.

“I love you, Mommy. Don’t be mad.  Aunt Jeannie can cook here. Maybe our oven won’t lock her food inside.” Then she planted a big kiss on my cheek and gave me another hug. “I like Aunt Jeannie’s baloney sandwiches.”

That was my undoing. I had reversed course and started laughing uncontrollably. I hugged my daughter and gave Lex the “all clear” nod that let them know they’d live to see another day.

We did have turkey on Thanksgiving.  Martha and Charlie brought it up from their cottage and it was wonderful.  Her dressing rocked, too.  I made the mashed potatoes and green beans.  Lorrie made her first pumpkin pie.  As for Jeannie and Lex, we got them to watch a few cooking shows on television and they decided they could handle the job of expediters. And they got to wear the “Kiss the cook” aprons as they nibbled on everything to make sure it all tasted good.

Rodney was just thrilled that he could watch football with Charlie and not have to use his medical skills for at least one meal. Another disaster averted!

Happy Thanksgiving from the Walters gang.

We pulled up into the school parking lot and noticed that several of the teachers’ cars were gone. This was normal since it was already 90 minutes since school let out. Lights were on in some of the classrooms, so we figured that Mrs. Carlson was waiting for us in her room.  We left all the documents and pictures we’d brought with us in the truck and decided to just let our sparkling personalities do the work.

You’d think we’d discuss even a little strategy, or who was going to be ‘good cop’ vs. ‘bad cop’.  But we didn’t. After a dozen or so years together, it was entirely unnecessary, like how Lex knew to pull me back when I was about to go after that mead tramp with a lance aimed at her posterior. She could feel the tension, the little things that told her I was particularly homicidal, and, especially “and” not to laugh about it later.

We went inside and let the office staff know we were there.  I asked for the principal and showed him the composition and the note that Mrs. Carlson sent home with Lorrie.  He looked at them and handed them back without a word. When he returned to his office the school secretary looked them over and asked, “What do you have in mind, Lex?”

“Nothing requiring hospitalization or the sheriff’s intervention,” Lex assured her.

“Says who?”

The school secretary snickered and patted me on the shoulder.  “I tend to side with your wife, Lex. This new sub thinks the sun rises and sets on her brilliance.” Then she leaned in to whisper, “Big f’n pain in the ass, if you ask me. Big city stuck up.” Waving us on to the door, she said, “Just let me know where to bury the body when you get done.  Good luck!”

I felt better. I could tell that Lex did, too.  We decided that the best way to deal with a pompous ass is to keep them off kilter. Lex unbuttoned her shirt so that the start of her cleavage could be seen. I handed her my brush and she used it to tame her hair and make herself look downright irresistible. “Mr. Walter, indeed!” she said, and grinned at me.

I lost focus for a moment.  See, I have a particularly strong admiration for Lex’s assets. Once, a view of her cleavage nearly caused me to drive off a bridge. The attraction is as strong as ever, even after all these years.

I snapped to. Literally, because Lex was snapping her fingers and waving her hands in front of my face to bring me back from that erotic haze that had swept over me.  “Okay, I can do this.” We talked strategy for a moment and then headed off to Mrs. Carlson’s room. I went in first.

“Hello? I’m Amanda Walters.”  Then I held out my hand for her to shake.  “Lex will be right in.”

“Eleanor Carlson. I’m your daughter’s teacher.” She took a moment to size me up, which was okay, since I was doing the same with her.  “Will your husband be long?”

“I’m not really long, just tall.” Lex said in the sultriest voice that I rarely heard outside of our bedroom.

If that teacher’s head hadn’t been attached to her neck, her head would have flown out of the window from whipping it around to get a look at the owner of that voice.

The teacher started backing up as Lex stalked her. Really. Lex looked like a jungle cat stalking her prey. It’s not so much the intimidation, it’s the attitude. It’s the sultry, sexy way that Lex can use to bring an opponent to their knees begging. Hell, it’s why my very straight sister cannot resist flirting with Lex. This woman, my wife, my love, the very essence of sexy, was making Mrs. Carlson back up into the student desks, chairs, and finally her own desk.

“Let’s see if we can clear the air, okay?”

Mrs. Carlson nodded.

“As you can see, I am not a man.”

Mrs. Carlson nodded.

“So referring to me as Lorrie’s father is out of the question.”

Mrs. Carlson nodded.

“Lorrie is spelled “L-o-r-r-i-e”, got it?”

Mrs. Carlson nodded.

“Our last name is Walters—with an ‘s’.”

Mrs. Carlson nodded.

“Amanda is my wife and the mother of our two daughters, Lorrie and Mel, and our son, Eddie.”

Mrs. Carlson nodded.

“Lorrie will probably inherit our ranch when she is grown, if that is her wish.”

Mrs. Carlson nodded.

“It seems to me that the only one having gender identification problems is you. I think that Lorrie has correctly identified her sister, Mel, as the one who likes to dress up like a princess, and her brother, who isn’t toilet trained yet, as the one with the poopy drawers.”

I’m sorry, but I have to say, that the way she looked at the cowering teacher even made words like “poopy drawers” sound wonderful.

Lex handed the composition to me. My turn at bat.

“So, Mrs. Carlson.”

She looked at me while trying to compose herself.

“Exactly what grammatical mistakes were there in this composition?”

She just stared at me without answering.

“Um hum.  Aside from your presumptuous belief that you know better about our household than our own daughter does, does this composition meet the requirements for the assignment?”

She weakly nodded her head again. “I…uh…I’ll just change that grade, okay?” She sat down at her desk and changed the grade on the paper and in her grade book to ‘A’.

“If you have any questions about our life, just ask.”

Mrs. Carlson stood and looked like she was trying to make up her mind as to whether she should hold her hand out for a handshake or not.

I took her hand and briefly shook it. As I was about to turn to leave, Lex leaned in and said in her deepest, darkest, usually saved for when we’re playing our version of dress-up, voice, “If you ever berate our child, or grade her according to your own misconceptions instead of her academic merit, I’ll be back.”

Then Lex turned and swayed herself right out of the room. As we started down the corridor, we overheard, “Listen, Paul.  We need to talk about this. I don’t care what your family thinks. I’m going home. ”

We winked at the school secretary as we passed her office  and set about driving back home.  Lorrie was fairly beside herself waiting for us to tell her the outcome.  We called her to the mudroom instead of making her wait.

“Did you kick her ass?”

“Now, sweetie, is that something you should ask?” I decided to have a little fun with my child. “I mean, really?  It’s not like she’s a cattle rustler or something.”

“No, but she’s a jerk!” Lorrie insisted.

Lex pulled Lorrie into a hug.  “Amanda, Lorrie does have a point.”  Then Lex handed Lorrie her composition so she could see the corrected grade.

“Thanks!” She hugged us both and ran back to the kitchen to tell Martha.

“I bet there’s a letter of resignation on the principal’s desk in the morning.” Lex took my arm and we headed to the den to relax for a bit.

“I didn’t really want her to—“ Lex gave me that knowing grin. I confessed. “Okay, so yes I did.” I kissed Lex on the cheek.  “So, you sexy rancher, how about using that sultry voice with me for a little while? We can even play dress up.”

Lorrie came into the den and handed me the composition she’d received back from her substitute teacher today.  Lorrie’s regular teacher was out on maternity leave, and Mrs. Carlson was finishing out the school year for her.

There was a note attached to the composition, addressed to “the parents of Lorie Walter.”  The paper, itself, bore a “C-“ in red ink at the top of the first page. Lorrie was angry.

If there is one thing my daughter is good at, it’s compositions.  She typically receives the highest grades for her efforts. She has also won state writing contests for the past two years on a row. So you can imagine how disappointed with her grade she was.

I gave Lorrie a hug and promised that Lex and I would look it over and discuss it with her teacher.  She hugged me back and whispered, “Kick her ass, mom,” before she went outside to take care of her chores.

“Lorrie!” It was hard to scold my daughter when her mother was thinking the same thing. Once Lorrie was out the door, I made myself a cup of tea and sat at the kitchen table and began to read.

“My Best Day, by Lorrie Walters.” I was surprised to see all the red marks and comments. For example, where Lorrie had referred to her sister, “Mel”, her teacher had crossed out sister and written, “brother.”  Lorrie mentioned how her sister loved to play dress-up, and on her best day, Mel had dressed up like a princess.  Then Lorrie mentioned her baby brother and how the only thing she didn’t like about him was when he messed his diaper.

Red marks were everywhere.  “If Mel is old enough to dress himself, why would you say he soils his diapers? And why does your brother wear a dress?”

“Huh?” I reread what Lorrie wrote and then what her teacher had written.

“You keep referring to your father, Lexington, as ‘mom’. What? Is your father one of those men who like to dress up like women? Are you confused about which parent is your mother and which is your father?”

I heard the back door bang as Lex stomped into the mud room.  She called for me and no sooner had she taken her boots off than she stomped into the kitchen, fit to be tied.  Apparently, Lorrie had caught her up on the events of the day.

“Sit.” I got her seated at the table and poured a large glass of iced tea for her.  I showed her the composition, and then she read the teacher’s note.

“Mr. and Mrs. Walter?” Lex shook her head in disbelief and read the remainder of the note.  “Needs counseling regarding gender identification.”  She continued to read. “Imagines she has a horse but won’t give its name. Keeps saying ‘Mine’.” Lex read further. “Needs encouragement to pursue a normal life because she wants to run a ranch when she is grown.”

“Martha is on her way, honey.” I grabbed my purse and Lex went back to the mud room to put her boots back on. Then I handed her the package I’d assembled for her.  “Deeds to our properties. Family pictures. Cattle counts.”

I didn’t know who to feel sorrier for. Although Lorrie was disappointed with her grade, her teacher was going to feel a lot worse once we got done with her. I opened my cell phone and punched in the number that the teacher had written on the note.  “Mrs. Carlson? This is Lorrie’s mom, Amanda.  Lex and I are on our way into town and should be at the school in twenty minutes. Good. Well we’ll see you then. Thanks.”

Lex took one more look at the composition as we climbed into her truck and sighed.  “She corrected Lorrie’s name? Good grief!”

Lex and I were lounging around in our bedroom and started talking about how our lives were in the early days of our relationship.  How we were inextricably drawn to each other. How we became necessary to each other, and how each of our senses of well being became completely tied up with the other’s.

I still look at Lex and see the much younger woman who overcame obstacle after obstacle in order to run her ranch and make a success out of it. Meanwhile, she dealt with alienation and isolation, and had been abandoned so often in her life that it’s a wonder that she trusted me so easily.

But there it is. Sometimes you just know. Sometimes you see the person, hear their voice, and you know that this is the person you’re meant to be with for the rest of your life.

Lex is that person for me.  She saved me. Not just from the creek, but from a life with no future. I know my grandparents love me. I’ve always known that. But the one-on-one commitment to another person who you want to share everything with is hard to find.  And more precious than anything.

I asked Lex if she remembered our wedding vows.  I was embarrassed to say that I don’t remember the words I said, but I do remember every emotion I felt.  Lex confessed afterwards that she couldn’t remember the words either. But then she pulled me close and kissed me.  Then she said, “I’ll never forget this.” And she kissed me again.

Some friends of ours are being married at the end of October.  Lex joins me in hoping that the day is a wonderfully blessed day for them both.  May their lives be filled with love, laughter, and the devotion that comes only with the deepest love.

Dedicated to Cindy and Cathy.

Amanda.