”“Oh crap,” I felt nauseous to think of it, “I brain-fucked my brother to steal his bride?”“If you ever write an autobiography, you’ll h...ve a title.” Dad’s black humor was strongest when he was sad. I hung my head.“If I wrote an autobiography, it’d mostly be fiction,” I told him. “I don’t know most of what makes me, me. What thoughts and ideas brought me here?”“Amanda, huh?” Dad snapped his fingers to call over Sam the bartender. She had her hair fixed in that stupid upward swiping tail. “I. There was no doubt that we loved each other.Abby stirred a little and whimpered in her sleep. I held her a little closer and felt her relax again. Gently I disentangled myself from her sleepy form and slowly uncovered her naked body. This was my first chance to study her. Abby's black hair was spread around her like a pool of oil, but below her thick eyelashes, there was not a hair on her body. She had no tan lines braking up the golden brown tone of her skin.Careful not to wake her I turned. She also told me that it feels the best when you are doing it with someone you love. That someone is you, Steven. We just can’t tell Faith, can we?”“I think that Faith needs to hear from you about this. If she was here right now, what would you say to her?”“Hmmm, I would probably say, ‘Faith, I know you love him, but would it be alright if we shared him every now and then.’ Then I hope she understood why I was asking her. If she didn’t understand, I don’t know what I would do, it’s all so odd. I kept it pretty simple, making finger sandwiches and homebaked nibbles. I even made homemade turkey salad and pimento cheese from recipes my grandmother had given me. I’d shared some with Amanda and Chloe during coffee and they raved about how good they were. Chloe even asked if I’d make a container of the pimento cheese for her husband. She reported back later about how much he enjoyed it, so I taught her and Amanda how to make it.Word spread and one morning I had six wives besides my two.
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