014:

Aubrey squealed when she saw the two lovely young ladies--- I couldn't call them models, knowing they were her nieces, which made them my nieces as well. However, they were not allowed to call me Uncle Rafe.

I cringed at the thought and went over to them. "Hi, I'm Rafe."

Hannah, taller than her sister by an inch, with bright blue green eyes, and straight dark hair, deep dimples in both cheeks, smiled a really sweet smile. "Yes, that's obvious."

And---- she did that very Mormon thing. She extended her hand---to shake hands.

I grabbed her hand, slender and cool--- and jerked her in for a hug. "We're going to change this tradition in this household. Hugs all around. Always!" She was little--- like Aubrey, but sturdy. I wasn't sure which of Aubrey's siblings she belonged to--- and---- figured I'd never know unless I asked.

"So who's your freaking parents? Are they industry? Can we freely talk the talk, or are you one of the intellectuals, like your Aunt here?"

Aubrey was holding Abby's hand, looking at her nails carefully. I reached for her--- noting identical dimples, a little bit longer and wavier hair, pulled back in a ponytail, and sporting several modest diamond earrings in each ear.

I examined the fingernails critically. The artwork was astounding, some kind of symmetrical geometrical design, and really elaborate colors, that no matter which way you turned them, ended up looking like different pictures. "Who did these?"

"I did." Abby said, pulling her hand away, and looking up through long dark lashes.

"Get out! You did this yourself? That's not possible!"

"I did it." She finally smiled, not sure about me and my acting all punk bad boy for their benefit.

"Hannah and Abby are Melia's oldest daughters." Aubrey told the group at large. "You may talk industry with them. Hannah is a vocal performance major and Abby----." She smiled. "Is putting herself through college doing nails."

I reared back. "Excuse me? Did you say putting yourself through college?" Obviously I was shocked that somebody wasn't helping her out for this important step in her life. Surely she had money from somewhere? Did Melia not have enough money? Would Richard and Tracy not help out? My eyes sought Aubrey's.

"Yes. I am putting myself through college. I've worked since I was thirteen. I intend to be completely self sufficient." Abby swung her wavy ponytail in pride and I hugged her again.

"Now this is a young lady who is going to make something of herself!" I looked at Hannah who was smiling in anticipation--- knowing she was about to be compared to her sister—

"You're a vocal performance major? What school?"

"UCSD." Hannah said, and I noted instantly that her voice had that same melodic tone that Aubrey's did. "But I'm not majoring in vocal performance anymore, Auntie. I'm doing Composition, Contemporary Writing and Production, and a minor in vocal performance."

Aubrey was nodding. "I like that idea very much, love." She told Hannah. "You were a writer from the start. I remember as a little girl, you spent a lot of your time writing children's stories and setting them to videos you made on your mom's phone."

Hannah turned to Rafe. "Aubrey is more like a big sister to us. She was our babysitter from the time I can remember. She's the smart one."

"Oh ho!" I laughed. "I think the brainiac side of the family gene pool has trickled down to all the Mann kids and grandkids. Good thing it did too, cause my kids will need all the help they can get!"

I glanced at the patio doors where Ben, Addie, Jeff, Ronda and the kids were coming through. It all looked far too suburbia---- I was used to crowds walking in to parties. Girls dressed in slinky black or red numbers, or bikini's, their long hair perfectly styled. I glanced at Addie, who was normally more in this vein, and saw that she wore Capri's, and embellished sandals, a layered blousy thing, with some chains around her neck and her hair---- not done up perfect---

And Ronda looked positively frumpy--- in worn out, stretched out maternity--- gees, why was she dressed like that? Didn't I pay Jeff enough? The kids looked frumpy too.

And suddenly I wondered where all this judgey stuff was coming from. I didn't usually care what people wore. I didn't usually care what they did either--- but this was stemming from the changes in my life. This was stemming from modern millennial domesticity.

I felt cramped.

I felt un-styled--- out of my comfort zone. And had the weirdest feeling that I was losing something important about myself. Something deep and significant. I wanted reassurance--- and I wanted it now.

Lance and Ben were greeting each other. Mutt had come in carrying beer, Jeremy and Levi and Levi's girlfriend were there, and behind them, Kareem and a new partner. But all were visiting and greeting and meeting, and I grabbed Aubrey's arm and pulled her onto the sand nearby the children building sand----I glanced at what they were building--- not castles--- malls. It looked like a race track with a mall and an airport.

Her eyes--- catching the fading sunlight, I instantly pictured as they'd been just a few hours ago in a mediocre hotel in the deepest moments of passion.

"Rafe?" She backed up from me, to see me better. "What is it?" Her voice was tenderly calm. Her hand on my arm was soft--- and peaceful.

"I'm feeling encroached on."

"Too many people? I kinda thought we'd gotten a crowd...."

"No--- culturally encroached on. This isn't what I'm used to."

She glanced around, her mouth fallen open in a silent "oh". Then she took a deep shaky breath and let it out. "Is this what a barbecue looks like to you? People sitting around talking?"

"Well, that's just it. They're sitting. And it's at a house--- my house."

She pulled her lips under, made some kind of squeaky air noise--- "You're used to them standing?"

"Yeah--- standing around, talking, and---- drinking. I feel like---- I need a drink. I can't relax."

Her eyes snapped up to mine. Once before she had asked me not to drink--- at my mom's--- that fateful day that had almost ended our relationship. And once before she had told me she couldn't handle it if I drank--- that it might have been a deal breaker. Then I'd swigged whiskey after the crowd surfing to rescue her at a concert.

She took another deep breath. "Have a drink then. Mutt brought beer. If that's what you need, then that's what you need."

I was ready to hop on her controlling me with reminders of covenants and the church and being an example and all that shit--- stuff. Literally I felt my whole body tense with the effort to come up with reasonable excuses.

"If I do, you won't sleep with me?"

"Did I say that?" Her voice was not sarcastic, or wheedling, or anything. She was still perfectly calm.

"No, but----." What was she saying?

"Rafe. You have to make those decisions every day of your life, for the rest of your life. I will not---- cannot--- tell you how to live your life. I knew who you were before I married you--- I controlled you during our courtship--- on purpose--- so you'd also know me and my standards. But we are married. I will work with your choices. I'm not going to leave you. I'm not going to punish you by withholding sex." She blew out her breath. "I'm not your parent."

I ran a hand through my hair and closed my eyes.

"What's really bothering you?" She asked gently.

"Ronda is dressed like a suburban housewife."

Aubrey nodded. "And she could do better. You're right. She is probably feeling pretty yucky right about now. Maybe those are her favorite comfortable clothes. Maybe it's what she feels safe in."

I'd been judging her as lazy---- not due to have a baby.

"The kids too---- frumpy."

Aubrey looked out at the kids. She shrugged. "It's the end of the day--- this wasn't planned. We invited and they simply jumped in the car and came. Ronda is too tired and huge pregnant to care what they are wearing. And obviously, Jeff was just in a hurry to get over to hang out with you. Look, I don't want to make excuses for people. Is that really what's bothering you?"

I sighed and rubbed her slender shoulders. I wasn't sure what I was feeling, but I did know that she--- the hostess, was taking time to make sure I was okay. I was her priority. That felt comforting. And if I had a beer--- she wasn't planning to kick me out--- or--- or go back to her old house and leave me alone.

"Why are the girls paying for their own college?"

Aubrey cocked her head at me--- her eyebrows lowered. "College isn't a free gift in our family and Melia and Robert adopted that policy in their family as well. We don't raise our kids to be entitled elitists. We raise them to work hard, and support themselves and encourage them to try many new things and not be afraid."

"But college...."

"Who paid for your college?" She asked me.

"My dad."

She nodded. "Well, I got scholarships--- and I worked as a CNA in an assisted living home. I worked as a receptionist at a travel agency, and I worked at Taco Bell."

"Aubrey---- your family has money...."

"Yes. They do. They have a lot of it, and they use it wisely--- because they were taught young to value it, and value the real life things it can buy. But Rafe---wasting money on the things people do nowadays is just--- selfish and wicked. Buying things for the sake of buying them, not because you need them, when so many people go without----." Her eyes clouded over. "Use your money to benefit lives--- and build lives, Rafe. That's responsible and admirable."

I felt pissed. No reason. Pissed at myself possibly. I felt like I was giving her the impression I didn't value hard work. "I worked."

"I know you did." She soothed, that hand running over my lower arm tattoos, and I saw her eyes wander there, in her cute fascination for my ink.

"I worked at a copy shop. I worked mowing lawns. I worked at an ice factory."

"Ice factory?"

"Yeah, loading bagged ice on pallets and crating it up and loading it on trucks."

"How long did you work there?"

"A couple of weeks."

She grinned. "About how long I worked at Taco Bell."

We both laughed. I let out my breath and with it the steam I'd been holding in. I looked at the kids--- industrious little things. I guess I'd rather they were out here in the sand, dressed like urchins, than sitting inside dressed in designer clothes playing their DS.

Aubrey stepped close and lifted her chin, but her eyes remained on my Adam's apple. I loosely held her around the waist, bunching the embroidered dress she'd donned in my hands. She traced my bobbing apple--- safe within the scope of my arms. She didn't need to say anything, and she didn't.

"It won't always be suburbia." I told her. "Sometimes there will be non-suburbia moments."

She sniffed and blew out her breath with a chuckle. "I guess that's why you married me, Rafe Stryker. I'm familiar with both worlds. Right?"

"You are ---- a world in and of yourself."

"Aw.... That's sweet." And she patted my cheek. In a rush of emotional adrenaline, I scooped her up.

"This won't be the last time I throw you in the ocean!" I started running with her in my arms toward the surf.

All five kids jumped up and started running in circles around us, the patio watchers suddenly came to non-suburbia life as Aubrey kicked and screamed all the way to the waves, and into them, as I simply walked right down the shore, across the wet sandy shelled and coarser area, and into the rushing water.

******