You love adult your children. They are the center of your world.

However, you want them to live their own lives, so you can live yours. But achieving this becomes somewhat complicated, as you will see in . . .

A Brown Paper Bag

     Gayle and I have been retired for six years. We live in a wonderful gated community at the base of a picturesque mountain in Placer County, California. We’re happy most of the time. We try to stay clear of the politics of our senior community that can cause you to live on Valium, if you get too involved with the idiocy surrounding you. Instead, we play pinochle three times a week, dominoes once a month, and go out to dinner and a play every other month. The dogs, Winkle and Dinkle, take us for a walk twice daily. They’ve become our personal trainers. We have a full, contented life.

     This was the way I’d pictured retirement. But then something I hadn’t anticipated happened— something glorious on the surface, but bubbling with turmoil just below. Our kids, four beautiful daughters, came to live with us.

     Kim, the eldest at thirty-eight, my take-charge redhead, moved her family of five just outside our front door seven months after we moved into our home. Well, maybe not just outside, but only two miles down the road in the housing development called Las Casas Bonitas. Cassie, the second in line, at thirty-six, a mischievous blond, dragged her husband and two boys to Placer County two months later and bought a wonderful four-bedroom home only a stone’s throw from our backyard. Laurie and Katie, our thirty-year old, single and fancy free, brunette, identical twins, followed early the next year.

     Now don’t get me wrong. We love our children. But put our four girls in the same room on a Sunday afternoon and it will drive you absolutely crazy. This had been the main reason we ran from the Bay Area to the lush green countryside in Placer County in search of the peace and quiet we had longed for. However, I guess we didn’t move far enough away.

     Sunday arrived. Gayle called to me from the kitchen, “Kevin, can you come in here? I need help in getting lunch ready for the girls.”

     I made my way to the kitchen. As I entered, Gayle rushed around grabbing frozen goodies off the counter and popping them into the oven. “Just the girls coming over, or the grandkids too?”

     “It’s girls get together time. The little ones are going to the amusement park with the dads.”

     “Why here? You part of this girl thing?”

     “No. They wanted to get out of their homes, so I told them to come here. I said I’d prepare some hors d’oeuvres and they could use the great room. Thought maybe you and I could go for a drive.”

     “ A drive? Where?”

     “I don’t know.”

     “This is our home, not theirs.”

     “But they’re our daughters.”

     “I know. But that’s why we moved here in the first place.”

     Just then the bell rang. Gayle looked at me with a pained expression on her face. “Can I get the door?” she moaned.

     “Yeah. You invited them. Go do it.”

     I followed her into the hall as she opened the door. Our four lovely, but somewhat intrusive, daughters swaggered in. Spotting me, in unison they shouted, “Hello, Daddy.”

     “Hi,” I whined.

     Sensing my less then enthusiastic welcome, Kim asked, “What’s wrong, Dad?”

     “Oh, nothing. Mom wants to go for a drive.”

     “So?”

     “I don’t want to go. Just wanted to kick back.”

     “Then just kick back,” Laurie shouted.

     “I thought you girls wanted to be alone.”

     “Well, you’re not going to get in the way, Dad,” Cassie sighed. “We’ll just act as if you’re not here. Can you handle that?”

     “Do I have a choice?”

     “Nope,” Katie stated whimsically.

     So the girls strolled into the great room. The twins crashed on the tan, leather couch. Cassie slid into the matching loveseat and Kim sat in Grandma’s old rocker. And me? I sat in the corner by the fireplace on our somewhat aged recliner and stared off into space.

     At first, I tried hard to disappear into my own little world, but then the bantering between the “ladies” got louder and louder, so I decided to listen. However, I kept my eyes closed so the girls wouldn’t think I was intruding on their special little “chatfest.” They ignored me. Must’ve thought I’d fallen asleep.

     “Okay, guys, listen up,” Kim directed. “Let’s make this a productive afternoon.”

     “Productive?” Katie grimaced. “I thought the object of this soiree was to have fun.”

     “And we can’t have fun and be productive at the same time?” her identical sibling, Laurie, bellowed.

     This, in itself, was odd, as Katie and Laurie almost never disagreed about anything. But I guess times change.

     “Oh, come on, this isn’t what we came here to do,” Cassie complained. “Let’s share some stories about our neighbors. Some of mine are just a bit different.”

     “What do you mean, different?” The twins questioned in tandem.

     “Well, sort of strange,” Cassie replied.

     I wasn’t sure where this was going, so I let my mind drift, until . . . Cassie cried out, “This one couple had this suspicious brown paper bag.”

     “Brown paper bag?” Kim responded. “We all have brown paper bags.”

     “Not like this one you don’t,” Cassie emphasized.

     “What’s so damn special about this one?” Laurie queried.

     “It was kind of spooky. In big black letters, it read, ‘Watch your back or something will get you,’” Cassie chanted.

     “Oh, come on! You don’t seriously think this is something to be concerned about?” Kim asked.

     Squinting, I noticed Cassie looking my way, so I let my head sink to my chest. After staring for a couple of seconds, she must’ve concluded I’d fallen asleep, so she went on with her discourse.

     “I sure do. I heard the neighbor, a big, scary looking guy, say to the small, chubby guy with him that the bag had a spell cast upon it and anyone who possessed it and chose to look inside would become, uh, cursed.”

     “You’re frightening me,” Katie giggled, as she glanced in my direction. I tried to remain as still as possible. Satisfied I was still sleeping, she looked back at Cassie and winked. Guess that indicated I was out of it.

     Cassie shook her head. “Katie, don’t be so smug when it comes to the eerie brown paper bag. I know I’ll never be tempted to look inside, if it appears on my front porch.”

     “Well that’s you, older sis. Always a chicken.”

     “Okay, this is getting us nowhere and it’s getting late. Any final words before we end what I hope will be the first of many sisterly gatherings, now that we’re all settled in our new homes?” Kim asked.

     “Not exactly what I’d expected, but interesting. I’m up for doing it again,” Laurie said.

     The others nodded in agreement as they packed up their belongings and trudged into the hallway, as Gayle came from the kitchen to meet them. They left me languishing in the corner still “fast asleep.”

     “Did you guys have a good talk?” Gayle inquired.

     “Yeah, great,” Cassie replied, as the others moved their hands as if conducting some imaginary orchestra backing up Cassie’s reply.

     I could see the whole exciting ritual from my seat. Gayle said, “Good-bye,” and let them out. She closed the door behind them and stared in at me. “You weren’t asleep, were you?”

     “No, not at all,” I responded with a slight snicker in my voice.

     Two days later, I opened the door to get the morning newspaper. There to my surprise sat a large, brown paper bag inscribed with the wording, ‘WATCH YOUR BACK OR SOMEONE WILL GET YOU.” It stunned me for a second before I reached for it. Just to be safe, I used caution in opening it. I stuck my hand inside and felt around. My fingers touched something. It felt like an envelope. I pulled it out. Nothing appeared on its face. I pulled the flap from within and saw a letter peeking up at me. I unfolded it carefully and perused its contents. The words flowed forth.

     “Dear Daddy,

         “Beware of what you find in a brown paper bag. It can make you crazy, or we, your loving daughters can. It was obvious to us you hadn’t fallen asleep and were aware of our entire ridiculous afternoon conversation. We couldn’t think of any other way to tell you how much we love you and how much living near you means to us.

         “We know your move was meant to allow us to spread our wings and for you to develop your senior lifestyle, but a life apart from you and Mom is not what we want. Mom understands and now maybe you will too. We didn’t know how to tell you this to your face, because we knew it went against your plans. So we conjured up a scheme to show you.

         “Daddy, we love you more than words can say. And all this comes to you in a ‘brown paper bag.’

         “Love,

         “Your daughters, Kim, Cassie, Laurie, and Katie”

Copyright © 2015 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.