Here's the last part if anyone is still out there.
11 DOTS MERGE.
On the third day of the third month, on my birthday, and on the birthdays of my sisters and of all our children, I passed Jerry his third son. I admit I felt a bit silly in the pink sheer nighty, but hey. Jerry was so proud he cooed like a dove.
I glanced down toward Pinkie's bed and smiled as she and Simon fawned over their new baby daughter. Simon glanced my way and winked. I finger waved and checked out his real wife April, as she plugged Joe's little son onto a fat milky nipple.
When we arrived home, we discovered three cars wrapped in blue, green and pink ribbon respectively sitting in each of our driveways. Problem was, none of us were at our correct abodes, but hey... The boy's had, unknown to us, got their heads together and purchased each of us brand new cars! Three identical and colour appropriate Porsche Carrera GT's! WOW! I swooned over mine and Jerry just laughed at my giddiness.
"Happy birthday beautiful." He kissed me hard. I went all doe eyed and wanted to bang him bad, but I'd just birthed a baby via C-section so I refrained the urge! Then I saw the freaking number plate, and I nearly died! The rose pink Porsche, wrapped in pink crepe displayed the number plate, 'THREE DOTS'. (Pinkies tattoo). Oh shit. I looked at Jerry puzzled, not because I didn't recognise the significance of the plate, but because I was petrified he might know its 'meaning'. I had the instant need to ring my other thirds!
"Hey," Jerry shrugged. "I suggested 'Pinkie', but Simon insisted that those 'dot' plates would be more fun. I don't get it June?"
I had to think fast. "Oh, Simon refers to us as one, two and three. You know, he's into bits and bytes, so I guess he finds it humorous. It is kind of appropriate I guess, what with me being the youngest, I'm number three..." Fuck, I couldn't tell him I was really number 'two' and that the plate referred to our actual real identities...!! Bloody Simon! "April's number one and May's two. It's just Simon being a clever bunny..."
The explanation seemed to suffice. I did love the car, or I would love it when I cycled back to Joe's house and jumped into the one with my own name on it! The racing green one!
We were now complete. We were one identity, but three personas, birthing nine kids with three fathers. It was an extremely complex relationship, but one, if viewed from the outward perspective of normality, completely acceptable! We'd achieved what we'd thought once impossible. We had achieved the great American dream, a big house in the burbs with a white picket fence, a fine successful husband and the proverbial three kids and a dog.
But we'd also built a house of cards, and it was teetering.
One husband knew a secret the others were not privy too. The wheel was unbalanced again and the murk was getting deeper, if that was even possible. The really scary stick in the spokes was the existence of bloody Carl. He had no intention of moving on and we were reluctant to push it. Shit, there's an old saying, 'when on a good thing, stick to it'. We of course had no desire to upset the applecart either, by telling Simon about Carl. Carl was an integral part of our relationship with Joe. But, even Simon was unaware of this little 'fly in the ointment'. Okay, so it was jumbo jet, but you get my drift.
Rotations were easier now. We each had our own baby with each husband, and we cared for the other two children as if they were each our own. In fact, in the time it took to complete a full rotation, I considered every kid as my own. Considering their DNA composition, they pretty much were. We each considered the other as a surrogate, a womb for use that ultimately bore each of our own nine children.
But the wind was blowing, gathering strength. The intricately placed cards teetered some more.
My little boy born to Jerry was named Jerome, and would be forever called 'little Jerry', much to his chagrin. Pinkies baby with Simon, another girl was christened Sara and April's baby boy to Joe was named Harry.
Nine kids between us... wow!
We didn't tease Joe too much this time around. Pinkie just announced, under the pretext of being me, his wife May, that she had realised that his sperm count was just so ridiculously humongous (which was a lie, our microscopes had proven that) and that he should just fuck her the once and get the job done, so that she could get back to her boyfriend for some 'heavy lovin' as she casually explained.
Joe just laughed. He wasn't fooled this time because he was onto our little game. But it was a game Joe enjoyed. Of course that one and only release inside Pinkie (on his birthday again, it being approximately and conveniently nine months out from March the third) was enough of an excuse for us to impregnate one of her eggs. So from the time of conception, Joe strutted about knowing that the baby in 'my' belly was his, and that his sperm count was 'ridiculous'. Good for you Joe!
Pinkie delivered him a beautiful boy and we couldn't chisel the smile off his face. Of course, during Joe's cycle we banged good old Carl manically. He was used sexually all year round including our soirees on the last day of each season, and, oh, on New Year's Eve of course. It was always rectum roulette determining which one of us bought in the New Year with a bang! It was likely that good ole Carl got more 'hole' use, and definitely the only use of any ass, of any husband going through a cycle. Once again we didn't consider this as cheating.
We reasoned that we were 'doing' Carl as a part of being Joe's 'wife', and of course, with Joe's full knowledge and encouragement. So, it wasn't really cheating or wrong... was it?
Our blissful lives continued. The house of cards wobbled a little more as the quicksand shifted beneath us.
It was once again smart Simon who discovered the 'glitch'. Bombarding those tiny atoms once upon a time had given him an uncanny ability to detect tiny miniscule cracks in an otherwise flawless system of tight bonded molecules. Well perhaps, in hindsight, the existence of Carl was like the Grand Canyon awaiting discovery. You couldn't miss tripping over it!
We got the phone call about 9pm one Monday evening. April and I answered as one. Pinkie was on the other end and sounded very distressed. 'Simon said... come, come now'.
We went!
Our youngest kids were seven months old now, and the eldest, well you can do the math.
Two Porsches, one British racing green and one burgundy pink screamed to a stop like synchronised stunt drivers with turbo chargers whining. Each pulled in fast behind the third supercar plated 'one dot', and sitting midnight blue and gleaming in the moonlight. We stumbled into Simon's kitchen breathless and anxious.
"Hello, my beautiful wives'. I firstly apologise for the late call." He smiled. "Drink?" He already appeared buzzed. Pinkie was deathly pale.
Three heads nodded in sync, but three hearts beat erratically out of tune. When Simon smirked, like he did right then, we knew we were fucked.
He handed out the drinks. "Have a seat." We shuffled like chickens scratching for feed. "I was having a bit of a chat with Joe yesterday. He called me over to discuss some investment options, and we might have had too many Jack's, and well... one thing led to another."
I felt sick. Pinkie imitated a ghost and April was evidently lost somewhere in space.
"I asked him, hypothetically of course, what he would do if he found out his beautiful monogamous wife May was having an affair with another man?" He laser beamed us three.
I hiccupped, trying to swallow down bile.
"Of course," Simon continued, "I was trying to sound him out on the three of you cycling between us, as your husbands. Okay, so I was a little drunk, but our little secret still weighs heavily. I thought that perhaps Joe would warm toward the concept if gently coerced. Jerry however would be another challenge altogether." He sipped his Jack and Coke. "So, imagine my surprise, when I ask that hypothetical question and the guy goes deathly pale and whispers 'how do you know?' Fuck, he knows? That threw me! But I said, yes, I know all about it. And then he say's 'where did you see them, at Mario's!' Okay, now I'm seriously confused! Why would he say that May?"
"Um... because we go to Mario's occasionally?" Oh shit, this was bad!
