First Chapter

Here are the first few (draft) pages of the novel:

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POLYGEOMETRY

tri-ad  noun \ˈtrī-ˌad also -əd\

a union or group of three

In a world that seems to be increasing in conformity
It's harder and harder to be who you want to be,
It takes a lot of courage to stand up and get what you need -
Ah, lots of us are happy in a different kind of family.
  - Christopher Bingham

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-1-

Molly opened her eyes slowly, and awareness dimly followed. She let it linger for a minute before letting it stretch out and make sense out of her surroundings. Molly usually woke early, at the first sign of daylight. Not because she was your typical “early bird”, and god knows she wasn’t always pleasant upon rising, its just that biology would not let sleep continue past that point. At 12, she had finally just accepted it.

She was cold. The automatic thermostat hadn’t kicked on yet, and with an early November chill in the air she could barely feel her feet. And her nose was a little numb too. She flirted briefly with the idea of getting up and putting coffee on, then decided against it. I’ll be lazy for a few minutes she thought, and huddled deeper under the covers, bringing them just over her frozen nose.

She laid there for a minute until her nose started to thaw, and her breathing was more comfortable. She aimlessly moved her eyes around the room, noticing the mess (there was no shortage of slobs in the house) but not passing judgment on it, indeed not even making a resolution to pick any of it up. Just a zen-like acceptance.

A zen-like acceptance is also where she tried to be in her own life in general. At 39, looking at (or arriving at, its hard to know where starts, isnt it?), middle age. Not unhappy about it as such, but lets face it, young is better, and there had been good times that would not be repeated, in all probability at least. And yet age had brought good things too - the usual cliches - wisdom, perspective, love.

That was the big one - love. An interesting construct that no one really understands. Is it biochemical? Anthropological? Spiritual? All or none of these? Molly had pondered this question as she was growing up, she was always that kind of introspective. It had seemed so important then, and now that she had found it in abundance the question ceased to matter in any real way.

She became aware of the man breathing softly next to her in the bed. He had one leg under and one leg on top of the covers, and had the sheets in a horrible tangle. A restless sleeper, he always had been. Short hair twisted vertically, looking reminiscent of the 1970’s punk style, dark black, matching the sizable stubble on his face. He smelled strongly, but not unpleasantly, sweaty. She imagined the deep blue eyes that were just behind his closed lids. She smiled.

Coffee, she thought. I should get up and make coffee. Maybe I’ll be extra nice and make a big breakfast. Her normal Sunday routine was to get up first and read the paper. This was her time. Breakfast was not normally a priority until later, and then more often than not it would something simple like bagels (real bagels, a big perk of living in NY). But today she was feeling in a particularly blessed frame of mind. Yes, a big breakfast would be nice.

She closed her eyes, and tried to visualize what she would make for breakfast, and was almost there when a picture of Nick’s face filled her mind’s eye. He was looking at her with that same mischievous look that he had worn on the day they met. Eighteen years ago.

It was October 1992. Halloween. She had been 23. She and a a girlfriend had gone to the Palladium in New York City to see one of Frank Zappa’s legendary Halloween shows. Nick had gone with three of his friends. A bawdy a show as there ever was, they found themselves singing along:

“Penis dimension, Penis dimension
Penis dimension is worrying me
I can't hardly sleep at night, 'Cause of penis dimension”

They were, by chance sitting next to each other, and realized they were both singing it. They both laughed a little self-consciously, but held out eye contact and sang:

“Do you worry? Do you worry and moan . . .
That the size of your cock is not monstrous enough?
It's your penis dimension! Penis dimension! “

As ice breakers go, this one was hard to beat, like sharing a near death experience, or donating a kidney. They had introduced themselves at the break. There was chemistry, and the timing was good. He was 26.

While it wasn’t exactly that night, it was not long before Molly found out that his “penis dimension” was not one he needed to be anxious about. They dated briefly. They were engaged in three months and married a year later. She had always felt that she and Nick were soul mates, whatever that meant (the old biochemical, anthropological, spiritual thing again she guessed). And there was not a moment in the last 17 years of marriage that she felt that they were anything less than totally, completely, and hopelessly in love.

And then she met Ryan.

She looked down at Ryan as he slept, smelled him. She felt compelled to touch him, so she did, but very gently on the top of his head, so as not to wake him. He didn’t stir. He was the real late sleeper, he would generally sleep until someone decided that he had to wake up. He was a little like a dog that, lacking the internal mechanism to realize he was no longer hungry, would eat himself to death. They joked that Ryan would keep sleeping until he died. It bothered her more than it bothered Nick, but it didn’t bother her that much.

Okay, now its really time for coffee she thought, and made her first real move out of bed. To her surprise, just as she had started to shift her weight to throw her legs over the bed, she was caught firmly, but gently, by the wrist.

“Good morning,” Ryan said, rubbing his eyes.

“Did I wake you?”

“Yes. Bitch.” He smiled.

“Well the bitch is making breakfast, so watch your mouth,” Molly said, grabbing and twisting his nose.

“Yeah?”

He reached out,caught , and lightly twisted one of her nipples. “I don’t think you’re making breakfast just yet.”

Oh well, she thought, maybe its good old New York bagels again. She thought it was a good trade off, and she kissed him.

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