Blame Ron DeSantis. That’s what he would do. He’d tell her it wouldn’t have happened otherwise. It wouldn’t have been possible.
But he was glad it happened.
He had to be honest about that. More honest than he had ever been. There had been so many lies in his life. It seemed his whole life had been a lie. But he could see clearly now.
He doubted she would understand any of it. He’d been there. In that head space. In that box. No more. He had been liberated from it.
Still, liberation could be messy. And costly. But he just couldn’t sell out his awakening. And that empowered him.
Thank you, Ron. The Lord works in the most unlikely places sometimes.
Louis: “I met her in the washroom at work. I had just returned from lunch. She was leaning toward the mirror, touching up her lipstick. I guess I startled her. She knocked her purse to the floor and some of the contents fell out. So I helped her pick them up, and our eyes met, and …”
Edna interrupted: “Wait a minute. You’re leaving me for a woman you met in a bathroom!? Ohmygawd! How is that even possible in the Florida Legislature?”
Louis: “Well, the governor signed the bill. And I had voted for it, like the rest of the party. I’m as startled as you are. I never in my wildest dreams expected this.”
Edna: “What bill are you talking about?”
Louis: “The one requiring people to use washrooms that correspond with their biological sex when they are in government buildings.”
Edna gasped: “You’ve fallen in love with a trans woman . . . a man?”
Louis: “You had it right the first time: a trans woman. Not a man. She’s nothing like a man anymore, if she ever was one at all. You’d never know if you saw her, and spoke with her. She fully transitioned 15 years ago.”
Edna seemed lost for words, then: “Does he work there?”
Louis: “No. She was in the building on some business. It was just happenstance. Fate.”
Edna: “So, if nobody would have known the difference, why didn’t he use the ladies room?”
Louis: “She’s an honest person. And I guess she felt she had better comply with the law given where she was.”
Edna: “When did you meet her . . . him? How long has this been going on?”
Louis. “Last week.”
Edna: “Last week! You meet a tranny and a week later you want a divorce, and you’re ready to throw away your whole career? You’ve lost your mind! You’re infatuated! It’s a mid-life crisis!”
Louis: “No, it’s none of that, Edna. It’s a spiritual awakening …”
Edna interrupted: “This is Satan’s doing! Can’t you see that?”
Louis: “No. I don’t believe in Satan and all the other superstitious mumbo jumbo anymore. It doesn’t have a hold on me now. I’m finally free from it.”
Edna: “So, what do you believe now? Tell me how it reconciles with destroying our marriage and your career to run off with a guy in drag?”
Louis: “Love transcends gender, Edna, because the spirit, the soul, is a sexless consciousness centre. They don’t teach you that in church. The important stuff. Pure love isn’t between sexes, Edna. It’s between spirits. And realizing that changes everything in my life. I can’t be the repressive Republican living in a fundamentalist box anymore.”
Edna fell silent. She was reflecting on his last statements. She actually understood it. It made sense. It was a lightbulb moment. As Christians, they were taught to practice brotherly love, which is a spiritual code. It’s a pure spiritual connection they were taught to strive to achieve. She could see how deeper loves could grow from that, if you allowed them to. And why not? . . .
It suddenly felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders — and she didn’t feel guilty. Au contraire, she felt waves of joy. She felt empowered. But she wasn’t about to give up on the man she loved, and who still loved her, she knew. He’d been honest …
Edna: “I get it, Louis.”
Louis: “You . . . you do?”
Edna: “Yes. I want to meet her . . . what’s her name?”
Louis: “April . . . her name is April.”
Edna: “Please invite her over, now if possible. And put the divorce on the backburner for this evening, OK? I have an idea . . .”
Louis phoned April, who agreed to come over immediately.
Edna: “I’m going to shower and change. Order us an extra large pizza for dinner, please . . .”
April was beautiful. And her eyes, the windows to her soul, were angelic. Honestly, you couldn’t blame any man for falling madly love with her on first sight, Edna thought as April stepped through the doorway. Any woman, either. She was in her mid-thirties, six or seven years younger than Louis and Edna, she reckoned.
When their eyes met, Edna was totally smitten. So was April. Edna knew it. There was an instant connection much deeper than brotherly love. It couldn’t be denied even if she wanted to. Her heart was aflutter. Her soul was on fire. Her spirit was ecstatic.
Louis saw it in them, too, and smiled . . .
April, sitting across from Edna: “Mmm. This pizza is delicious. And the wine is quite bold. From Portugal, I bet.”
Edna: “Yes, it is, indeed. It’s called Lab. It’s one of my favourites.”
Louis, at the head of the table: “Edna and I enjoy several Portuguese wines.”
April: “It’s an unexpected treat for me tonight. Thank you for turning me on to it.”
Edna: “Right back at you, April.”
Edna felt April’s bare foot caressing her leg under the table.
Edna returned the favour.
Her idea was unfolding organically. She hadn’t explained it to them. There was no need to. And that was the beauty of it. It had been free flow from the moment April arrived. It was natural. Louis, being a man, was slower to catch on. But when both women reached out for his hands at the table, he got it.
His wife had awakened. And he loved her more than ever now. And he loved April.
And Edna loved her husband more than ever, too. And she loved April.
And April loved them both.
And so the three of them lived happily ever after as a thruple, and Louis crossed the floor to join the Democrats and became a champion of free love.
And long after Ron DeSantis had been booted from office, a portrait of him could be seen hanging in their bathroom . . .
— Jillian Page
Love this, Jill.
Thank you, Richard. Hugs …
You are such a positive person. ((((Hugs))))
But there’s a big problem here: I can’t find “thruple” in the AP stylebook.
It’s not in the CP Stylebook (22nd edition) or the old Canadian Oxford I have at home. But dictionary.com has it: “three people who are engaged or married to one another, or involved as romantic partners.”
I left a comment on the AP Stylebook Ask an Editor page. Maybe it will one day be an entry. I was one of the howling horde that campaigned for “they”. Maybe I’ll have luck with “thruple”.
A nice way to find something nice to attribute to Ron. DeSantis.
Both complicated issues here were dealt with clearly and sensitively and smartly.
I like the relationship issue so much more!