Actually, we've talked about this several times, the idea of a "pre-nup" kind of thing to bring some degree of legal status to the Trifecta. (Don't worry, we're not about to start lobbying for legalization of polygamy.) What I want is a document to formalize the financial, medical, and legal ties we have (or want to have). Clearly the biggest beneficiary of this would be Chloe, who currently has NO legal status -- if you've been paying attention, you know that this is a great source of hurt. If anything awful happens (breakup, death, disability, medical catastrophe, job loss), there is a pre-existing setup that protects me and Red. You don't have to do much legwork to get that: get married, and *poof* you're insulated. Chloe, however, could wind up out in the cold under any number of scenarios. Despite having done nothing to deserve it, she is flying without a net, on her own, at risk of devastating loss. Not a beneficiary on anyone's life insurance. No 401K. No guarantee she could find other work if our business goes under. A stateless person in the politics of relationships.
This bothers me terribly.
And not just because Chloe happens to find the fact of marriage more important and appealing than I do (see several previous posts on that topic). But because in very practical terms, she bears all of the risk right now, at the same time that she has the least individual resources of any of us.
When I bring this up Chloe gets uncomfortable. She says she doesn't want to be a burden, doesn't like the idea of elbowing into our financial space. Also it's kind of morbid (someone will die ... maybe someone will break this thing up ...) Such a contract is about as romantic as a two-by-four. But ten days ago Red formally asked Chloe to move in with us, which surprised and delighted both her and me. The melding of resources and space and stuff is in process already. The psychological sense of her "presence" in the house is greater.
That means it's almost time to get this thing on paper.
So I was once again trying to sell the idea to Chloe the other day, as she and I sat at OUR dining room table (tee hee! that's so much fun to say). She objected in the usual way. For whatever reason, this explanation popped into my head for the first time: it's simply an artifact of everyone's history, I said, that you have fewer resources and less safety net than Red and I do. Expecting you to hitch your wagon to ours, but then be the most at risk if bad things happen? That's not fair. How things got this way is nobody's fault. Just like me being three inches shorter than you is not my fault. It's just a fact, neither good nor bad. To level the playing field, however, I can wear high heels. What's wrong with wearing high heels?
That made her smile. It's always been a little weird for Chloe that she is taller than me, and our standing hugs and kisses are therefore asymmetric. If I come home from work in heels and she's already barefoot, we giggle and enjoy the fact that I can be the top hugger, and look her right in the eye.
Love is giggly sometimes, and at other times it's solemn as hell. I want to do both parts right.
