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Authors: Addison Moore

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BOOK: The Solitude of Passion
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And here we are again, building architectural testaments to the sandcastle. We’ve split into teams. Stella chose me, so Mitch and Eli are together by default. They’re across the sand trying to outdo us by slopping together a fort that looks more like a trench or a moat.

Stella wants a princess castle. I wonder what this will all mean to her someday. If she’ll look back and remember the time we built a castle together and wish she were building it with her “real” father instead. I wonder if by then Mitch will have stolen my daughter, wife, and son from underneath me like he thinks I did to him. It’s the last thing I did to him. I never once thought about swiping Lee when we were in school. I gave in like the pussy he was hoping I was, but in truth I cared about Mitch as much as, Lee. They looked so damned happy. Who the hell was I to get in their way?

“We should name it,” I say as we cut grooves into the towers with one of Eli’s sand shovels.

“Chalet Shepherd.” She gives a hard grin. She’s so beautiful, just like her mother.

“Chalet Shepherd it is.” Ironic. Mitch’s daughter and so-called wife both bear my moniker. Stella only knows herself as Stella Shepherd—Townsend being her middle name.

“Look at me, Daddy!” Stella climbs up the mound of sand that supports the tallest tower. “I’m stuck in the castle, and I need a prince to save me!” She cups her hands around her mouth creating a megaphone, “Picture Daddy! Help me! Save me! There’s a nasty dragon, and he’s going to eat me!” She points in my direction.

Great. I’ve been relegated to the part of an overgrown reptile.

Mitch dashes over, swoops her in the air and she goes limp like a ragdoll. Stella laughs so hard she sounds like she’s in pain. He lands her soft in the sand in front of me.

“That’s no dragon.” Mitch glances up and offers a wry smile. “He’s a knight. He was just trying to rescue you.”

Stella lunges into me with a death-grip. Her bony elbows dig into my shoulders as she wraps her arms around me.

“A knight, huh?” I shoot Mitch a weary look.

“Yeah. I guess it’s easy to mistake a knight for a dragon from far away. Once you get to know them, you see the difference.” He gives a slow smile before catching Eli as he launches into him like a missile.

“Nice knight.” Stella pats my chest. “Just like when Picture Daddy was gone, you saved me and mommy. Then you put Eli in her tummy, so we can be a family. Did you put another baby in her tummy, so I can have a sister? Or is it Picture Daddy’s turn?”

Mitch and I exchange glances. We don’t say anything.

Eli starts destroying the castle, and we all join in.

 

 

“She’s fertile.” I plunk my bottle down on the bar.

Took Mitch out to the Winding Rope on highway 39 just south of Shepherd. Smells like cologne and whisky. Every now and again a barfly lands between us, and campaigns for our attention with her tits.

Stella opened a whole can of worms with her awkward observation on the beach this afternoon which sponsored our drive to the bar to begin with.

“Maybe she’s not.” Mitch can’t break his dead-on gaze to nowhere.

“Maybe.” I knock back the rest of my beer.

The bartender offers another, but I pass.

“Not too many things pan out for us, though,” I say. “If I had to guess I’d say it’s true.” Just another dart in the balloon of my life. Not that I wouldn’t love the child, help raise it, but Mitch—he’s not going anywhere. If she’s carrying his baby it’s just another point for team Townsend. “So congratulations.” I tip my empty bottle toward him.

“Funny how we both wanted Lee, and now we both sort of have her.”

“There’s nothing funny about this quasi-polygamous arrangement.” I pause a moment. “You know, I never thought about it—I mean
really
thought about it, but this has to be hard on her. To you and me it’s black and white, but to Lee…”

Mitch doesn’t say anything just swills his drink around in the bottle and watches it spin. “Lee’s coming back to me,” he says with the enthusiasm reserved for dental cleanings.

“You keep believing that.”

“I know it.” He doesn’t bother putting any inflection into it. He’s half-wasted, so I don’t push him on the subject.

A hard slap lands on my shoulder. “Hey, hey the gang’s all here.” Hudson sings it out like it’s his new favorite song. “Who’s up for some pool? I got my boys in the back.” He shoots me with his fingers.

“Sure.” Mitch abandons his drink, and we follow Hudson down the narrow hall like a pair of prisoners on death row. “Is this the part where you knife me and make it look like an accident?” He asks as we enter a large room filled with plumes of swirling smoke.

“Not tonight, Mitch.” Hudson slaps both hands on his shoulders. “We’re saving that fun for some other time.” He gives a hard laugh and winks in my direction.

I wonder if Mitch thinks I’m capable of putting a hit on him. I’ve thought about it—hinted to Hudson, but the last thing I’ll do is off Stella’s “Picture Daddy.” I’m not about to be hauled to prison for removing Mitch Townsend from the planet. Lee would never forgive me—hell,
I’d
never forgive me.

Hudson winks at me again when Mitch isn’t looking and has me spinning through the Rolodex of every conversation I’ve had with Hud since Mitch returned. Shit. Who knows what miscommunication I’ve had with my brother. For all I know there could be a half a dozen “accidents” waiting to happen.

Mitch shoots, and the balls split in twelve different directions, none of them in his favor. That’s Mitch all over. He plans life out one-way, and it crapshoots every which way but that. I almost feel sorry for him.

He steps aside, and I take over, call my shot, and it lands in the pocket like an obedient child.

Mitch arches a brow at me, feigns amusement, but you can tell he’s impressed as hell.

I say Lee is pregnant.

Looks to me the odds are in my favor.

 

 

 

18
The Deception

Lee

 

In the middle of the second week, Kat drags me along to her OBGYN appointment.

“They’re dating,” I say to her as the technician leads us to the ultrasound room to view my sister’s bundles of joy in triplicate.

“And you’re jealous?”

“Extremely.” I avert my gaze. “I want them to get along. I pray they’ll get along. But now it feels like they’re barhopping, picking up chicks on the side.”

“And you’re afraid they’re going to leave you for one another?” She flags down a girl from the back office.

“I think they already have.”

“Lani”—she squints into the svelte girl behind the counter—“my sister here thinks she might be knocked up. Could you possibly help us end this mystery? Pretty please?”

“Sure. It’ll have to be off the record, though.” She reaches into the cabinet and hands me a plastic cup. “You know the drill?”

I nod as I take the cup from her.

“Put it here when you’re through.” She motions to a plastic bin.

I give Kat a sharp look before heading into the restroom. When I come out I place the cup where she told me and follow Kat into the exam room.

“You’re a troublemaker, you know that?”

“I strive.” She hops up on the table and relaxes into the paper pillow.

“I hope they’ve multiplied and they find six in there,” I say. “You know, I couldn’t handle two of Eli. He was colic. Wouldn’t it be something if all six of your babies were colic?”

“You don’t like me, do you?” She winces as a small-framed woman pelts clear jelly onto her abdomen.

The frail looking tech starts poking around her belly with what amounts to a computer mouse while Kat and I struggle to see anything of relevance locked in the shadows up on the screen.

“I’m counting. There’s only three,” the technician says. She gives me a sharp look. “Healthy, though. I’d tell you the genders, but with three it’s tricky. You could count someone twice and mess up the roll call, so I don’t try anymore.”

“How about just tell me if I’ve got a boy and girl. I’ll figure out the logistics later.” Kat grasps onto my hand and squeezes as if I should be campaigning for this as well.

The tech winces as she stares into the screen. “This one’s a boy.”

“A boy!” My fingers fly to my lips. “A little buddy for Eli.”

The tech digs into Kat’s stomach so hard it actually depresses. God, I think she’s going to poke through with her wand. “And, you’ve got at least one other boy. Third one’s shy which is fine by me.”

“Another boy! Eli’s going to be in heaven!” I hop up and down with Kat’s unenthusiastic hand.

“Lee?” Tears stream down her face. “I don’t know boys.”

“Oh, stop. You know Eli.”

“What if I have
three
boys?” Clearly she’s petrified by the concept.

“Relax,” I say. “Boys are way easier than girls. They turn everything into a gun, even toast. Girls just scream.”

“Firearms? Are you telling me my children are going to be involved with firearms?”

Second thought, I’m not sure Kat being a mother to all boys is a very good idea.

“Maybe they’ll be pensive and studious,” I suggest. “We’ll take them to the library every day. By the time they’re three, it’ll be their natural habitat. Those kinds of places practically train them to be quiet little geniuses.” Unlikely, but I’ll go with it.

“I have three brothers,” the technician offers, wiping down Kat’s belly with a towel.

“And I bet they’re fine—doctors, or lawyers, or something,” I offer.

“Two are in prison, and one is homeless somewhere in L.A.”

I stare at her blankly as she gathers her stuff and heads out of the room. Kat’s face bleaches out like she just saw the ghost of the triplets’ future.

“She’s a breath of fresh air.” I help Kat down as she adjusts her dress, and we make our way back into the hall.

“I’ve got your results,” Lani says, walking past us. “Congratulations. It’s positive!”

“Well!” Kat’s whole affect brightens. In fact, she looks downright vibrant. “I feel better about my budding little convicts now that I know you’ve confused the paternity of your precious angel.” She pats my stomach with a beaming smile.

“I can’t believe you. How can you joke about something like this?” Actually I can believe her, and, oddly, she’s somehow managed to take the edge off my new predicament.

“Relax. Mitch and Max love you. They love Stella and Eli. This baby isn’t going to change any of that. You can still choose Mitch or Max—Mix and Match. You can have a Monday, Wednesday, Friday—Tuesday, Thursday, weekends arrangement.” She winks.

“It’s illegal to ‘mix and match,’ Kat.” I glance out the window and watch as a bird dives off the roof of an adjacent building only to soar straight up again. I wonder when I’ll start to soar again. Or will it be one long nosedive that leads to disaster. Feels like the latter. “If you can have three babies, why can’t I have two husbands?” It comes out more of a spin on polygamy than I bargained for.

“You’ve lost your mind, Lee, nobody wants two husbands. One alone has the power to bring the misery of thousands.”

I’ve compounded my misery with my spousal surplus—me and my husbands to the second power. I hate these cruel mathematics. I’ll keep the baby low key until after I figure out how to shoot one of them through the heart. Still don’t think I can do it. Where’s God? I look out the window as though I might actually find him.

“I think this baby belongs to Max.”

In a strange way I think I do, too.

 

BOOK: The Solitude of Passion
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