I pushed the cart away from the door and picked a carton without any dents in it. After carefully placing it in the cart, I turned toward Rain and smiled. She smiled in return.

“You wanted a perfect jug of milk, didn’t you?”

“Hey, I asked you a question.”

“Did you say something?”

“I asked if you if you wanted a perfect jug of milk. It’s why you shoved me out of the way and blocked the fucking door, wasn’t it? You didn’t want me grabbing some milk jug that was dicked up and had a fucking dent in it. You wanted to grab the best looking one you could find, you OCD fucker. Right?”

I shrugged my shoulders as I gazed onto the cart, focusing in the general area of the milk carton.

“Whatever, dude. I want some strawberries, then I’m done.”

“I love strawberries.”

I wish I would have thought of strawberries.

For my entire life, my hopes, dreams, and aspirations have been just beyond reach of my consistently indecisive mind. Often wrestling with even simple decisions for all of an eternity, it seemed by the time I realized what it was exactly I yearned for, someone else had beat me to the decision I was all too scared to commit to. A day late and a dollar short, as they say.

I’ve never had the luxury of a multi-functioning or broadly attentive mind. Either my brain or my inability to focus, I’ve never decided which, prevented me from concentrating or even comprehending more than one thing at a time. If someone was talking to me, I heard their voice and focused on the words they were saying.

But not so much of anything else.

If I was busy performing a task, often people complained I wasn’t paying attention when they tried to speak to me. Although I rarely revealed the reason, for me, the answer was simple. My mind was busy performing the task, not listening to idle chatter outside of the realm of my focus.

Rain was beginning to cause me to question this lifelong concern. In her presence, and only when we were alone, I was able to open my mind and see broadly as well as hear, all at the same time. I wondered if it was primarily because I was comfortable around her, and some barrier within my mind was set aside when she was around.

Ethan carefully placed the strawberries into the cart. I gazed down at them for what seemed like an overly long period of time, frustrated that he had come with Rain and I. I was the one who suggested we come together, but as much as I enjoyed Ethan’s company, and as deeply as I wanted everything to work between us all, the frustration continued to build within me. As I thought of what Rain had shared with me about Ethan’s interpretation of the movie we’d seen together, and how much she enjoyed hearing his metaphoric descriptions, I became slightly jealous. I continued to focus on the container of fruit, incapable of doing much else.

I desperately wanted to be the man with the strawberries.

Yet, I stood, staring into the cart, knowing I never would be.

RAIN

My life was quickly becoming a dream come true. Ethan and Cade were as caring and kind with me together as they were apart. Looking beyond what I expected would be the public’s view of my relationship with the two of them, I saw nothing but a bright future ahead. Maybe I was as naïve as Cade had once indicated, but I didn’t think so. If we wanted the relationship to work, it would. All we had to do was want.

And more than anything, I wanted my happily ever after with the two men I so dearly loved.

“So you said you’d tell me about Ethan. What was the deal about him being a computer hacker?” I asked over my shoulder as I finished brushing my teeth.

“Oh, I forgot. Sorry. I was going to tell you the other day. Okay come sit,” Cade said as he patted the cushion on the couch beside him.

Eager to learn more about Ethan, and finding it odd he was once a computer hacker, I skipped over to the couch and sat down beside Cade.

“Okay so I told you he was a mathematical genius, right?” he asked.

I nodded my head, “Yep.”

“Well, to understand computers is to basically understand math. They’re a series of problems, numbers, and stuff like that. Ethan was a natural, I guess. As a kid, before he was a regular genius he was a computer genius. Well, he got in trouble for hacking when he was young, and they basically slapped his hand. And then, when he was a little older, he did it again,” he paused and ran his fingers through his hair, clearing it from his eyes.

“And?” I asked.

He held his hands to his mouth, covered it for a moment, and then as he pulled his hands away he continued, “He got in a lot of trouble. He ended up going to prison for a while. I don’t know all of the details, and it doesn’t really matter, but it’s why he got a late start on college. And that’s where he got the tattoos on his knuckles, and maybe a few others, I don’t know. But he did tell me he got the knuckle tattoos in prison. I’m kind of surprised he didn’t tell you already.”

“Oh wow. I wondered about that. I mean, not a lot, but like the day I met him, I remember wondering about the tattoos on his fingers. Huh, a computer hacker. That’s kind of funny. So, he doesn’t do it anymore?” I asked.

Cade shook his head, “Nope. He doesn’t want to go back to prison. I mean, who would, right?”

“I suppose not. And yeah, I don’t know. Nobody, I’d guess,” I responded.

The thought of Ethan spending time in prison didn’t trouble me; if anything, it intrigued me. In some ways, it made me think that he and I were more alike than I had already thought. Although I’d never been to jail or prison, in some respects I’d been incarcerated for my entire life at home as a little girl. I also felt being homeless would have to be similar to being in prison – you’re stripped of all of your belongings, and left with nothing but time and what little space you have that you can call your own. The more I made comparisons, I realized it didn’t matter if you were in prison or homeless - the space you occupied wasn’t even yours, and long after you were gone someone else would take it over and begin the process again.

I glanced at Cade. There was no sense going on and on about it. I decided I’d give Ethan an opportunity to tell me about it at a later date. As Cade shrugged and grinned, I shook my head.

“You’re cute,” I said.

“Is that good?” he asked as he glanced down toward his lap.

“It’s wonderful,” I responded.

He widened his eyes as he looked up, “Is Ethan cute?”

I shook my head and laughed, “No. Ethan’s, I don’t know. But he’s not cute.”

After a moment’s thought, I continued.

“Ethan’s handsome,” I sighed.

“He’s handsome and I’m cute. Perfect,” Cade complained sarcastically.

“Look. Stop making comparisons. You’re cute, and I love you for it. I love you for all you are. I love Ethan for different reasons, but to be jealous, it’s just…” I hesitated and shook my head.

“Jealousy is a way of telling me you don’t trust me. There’s nothing to be jealous of. I love both of you, and it’s not going to change. I’ll always love you, and I’ll always love him. Okay?”

He inhaled a deep breath, nodded his head once, and exhaled loudly, “Okay.”

As I studied him, he seemed to come into a calm state of being. Maybe what I said sank in. As he began to appear to be daydreaming, I continued to watch him, wondering all the while what he may be thinking.

“I have a question,” he said under his breath.

I slapped my hand against his knee, hoping to bring him back to earth, “Ask away.”

“I want to take you to Denver to meet my mom and aunt. I don’t know if I’m ready to tell them about the entire thing, but I want to tell them about you. Your thoughts?” he asked.