Chapter 15
After spending a two week honeymoon in Jamaica, Lillian and I moved to Oakland, on the West Coast. We've been living there for the past five years, and we're both still happy-which has got to be a record of sorts.
Occasionally I hear from my daughter Glenda, who now resides in Paris with a stock broker whom she describes as "tres, tres sexy." They aren't married, but they get along. Glenda says that she's currently working on a book about her lives and loves, which she thinks is going to be a giant international best-seller. Needless to say, she has a lot to write about
In the past five years, she's made it through several dozen men. She picks them up, takes what she can get, and then she tosses them away. That poet Robert, with whom she started her journey, didn't last more than a couple of months. He didn't have enough stamina for her.
After him, she took up conjugal relations with a Marxist playwright, who liked to wear red pajamas to bed. He didn't have enough stamina for her either, and so she left him after a few weeks. She then plowed through a whole string of different men, before finally settling down with this stock broker. My daughter Glenda has had relations with a black pianist, a French pilot, a Belgian artist, a Vietnamese attache, a German demolitions expert, an Italian gangster and a Turkish revolutionary-to name only a few.
Yes, since I last saw her, Glenda has led an extremely active, if not a chaotic, life. I don't know what the hell she's looking for, though I wish her the best of luck in her search.
As for my former wife, Cindy, she went to a clinic for help with her problem. She was under analysis, but has been unable to change her sexual preference. She remains a Lesbian, and there's nothing much that can be done for her.
Late last year, she left New York City for Waco, Texas. She now resides there, sharing a house with three other girls. According to what she has said, she enjoys quite a satisfying relationship.
I'm a dyke and I'm proud!! " she wrote me in a letter a couple of weeks ago. I'm no longer ashamed of what I am. I have a wonderful sex life, much better than some of my heterosexual contemporaries. In the past I always felt guilty when I engaged in an affair. I was always nervous and fidgety. Now "I've come to terms with ah that, and I have come to accept everything about myself, including my desire to dress up like a man, to act like a man, and to make love to other women."
Sometimes I feel sorry for Cindy, but then I realize that I have no right to feel sorry for anyone. After all, she has her own life to live, her own dreams to pursue. Who am I to say that her lifestyle is in any way inferior to my own?
Living with Lillian has made me more tolerant. I feel more open to the rest of the world, more willing to accept ideas that I would have rejected out of hand a few years ago. They say that a man stops thinking when he hits his middle years. Well, Lillian keeps my eyes open and I'm grateful to her for that
I'm grateful to her for a lot of things. We had a baby last year, a little girl of whom I am very proud. Lillian and I still lead a very active sex life. Shit, sometimes I think that she's going to milk me dry. I fuck her every goddamn night, and twice on Sundays.
Of course, the two of us have our share of spats. Who doesn't? But Lillian knows the best way to straighten everything out. After an argument, she nuzzles up to me and starts to kiss me, and before I know it I forget what the hell I was mad at her about.
When she takes my arm and leads me up to the bedroom, I feel like the luckiest man in the world. Before she lets me slip it into her, she always makes me tell her that I love her.
And you know what? I really do!!!!!!