Chapter 24: Blossoms

Dakota rides close herd on the twins now. They are only allowed to visit me when they are menstruating. It’s not much fun. Not the honeymoon with my young brides-to-be I envisioned it would be.

Lauren is not pleased. That’s an understatement. She isn’t the least bit understated in her objections to my contract for double marriage.

“It’s so unfair for Dakota to throw her daughters at you, to steal you from me!”

“I’m right here, holding you in my arms, my sweet. I haven’t been stolen away. Despite no formal ceremony or document, I do think of you as my wife, Lauren. I love you very much. Do you doubt me?”

“Doubt you? How can I not?You capricious philanderer. Dalisay claims your nature is like a butterfly, flitting from flower to flower. Defends you being a son-of-a- beach. Says you can’t help yourself.”

Maybe I can’t.

“Dalisay said I’m a butterfly? Maybe she’s right. Maybe I can’t help it, if it’s my innate nature. Don’t gays claim, and the majority accept, they aren’t responsible for their natures? I’m sorry it distresses you.”

“So, you need young stuff, on the side? Is it because I’m older than you, I can’t keep your total interest? Is it because Dalisay is older than me, and is that why SHE LOST YOU TO ME?”

Dalisay didn’t lose me. Originally, I considered informing her, she had been usurped, but before I mentioned it, timely realized she wasn’t displaced after all, simply tied in a photo finish. I’m shared between Dalisay and Lauren. It works. Dalisay and Lauren aren’t jealous of each other. Lately, Georgia and Virginia are fully entered the sweep stakes late and trailing a little behind in my affections. My future brides are treasured, none the less. Lauren and Dalisay more!

“Maybe Dakota is brighter than I gave her credit for. Do you plan to continue an affair with Dakota when she’s your mother-in-law? Of course you will, no doubts of that I know why. You’re also weekly climbing aboard that old hag Emma! Actually, I feel more secure you won’t abandon me in a few decades, because not only do you manage to get off with Emma, you desire her, meet her with anticipation. Maybe, you’re a closet mother fucker? Is that the appeal? Is that the appeal Dalisay and I have for you? Mommy surrogates? Dalisay suspects so, and now I’m wondering. You certainly are a man for all seasons. None too young or too old. All are mills for grinding your gristle.”

I’m certainly not looking for a replacement mom, for sex or anything else, and only feel sadness and grief when I remember how mine died. Why would Dalisay tell Lauren, she thinks she’s a surrogate incestuous mom for me? Is she projecting? Is that a role she wants? I need to talk with her, before a neuroses develops.

“I’m sorry, dear. Would you please repeat that? Something you said earlier distracted my thoughts and my attention wavered. Sorry.

I apologize. What was it you just said? You have my full attention now. Honest.”

“I said, fight fire with fire.”

“Back up a little further sweetheart, I missed the context too.”

“I have three daughters of my own, right here in the camp with me. Actually, I have four daughters, but my eldest has a baby herself and both are currently wards of the state.”

“That’s sad you’re separated from each other, from your eldest and your grandbaby. They must miss you terribly. And you them. Any plans for when you might be reunited?”

“No plans yet, but I talk to her a couple of times each day, on the phone. We miss each other, sure, but we’re dealing with it.”

“How old is the baby?”

“Eight months. Want to see a picture? This is daughter Alexandra and baby Lorissa.”

We scroll through many photos on Laurens phone. Most of Lorissa from nrw-born until the riot in central park separated them. Included are pictures of Lauren’s other three daughters and I know them, but didn’t know Lauren was their mom.

“I didn’t know Daniella, Natasha, and Monica are your daughters.”

“Nobody guesses they are. They inherited their blackness from their dads. Yes, I see the question in your eyes, different dads for each of my kids.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t give them all the same first name.”

“That’s crazy. What put that idea in your head?”

“Well, you could call them by their last names if you wanted a particular girl, but all come running when you call their first name.”

“Is that something you want? A slew of kids with different moms?”

“Volunteering?”

“Me? Hell no! I’m done personally propagating the race. The next generation can pick up where I left off. Looking forward to having about a dozen grandkids though. How about you? Interested in volunteering to help produce them? It would be shared in common with us. Blood tying us together until death. I’d like that very much.”

“Are you suggesting I impregnate Daniella, Natasha, and Monica?”

“Alexandra too, once she’s restored to us.”

“Do you wield such authority over your daughters, you can command them to bear my children?”

“Of course not. It’s simpler than that. And thank you.”

“Why thank me, Lauren? I didn’t do anything.”

“Yes you did, you just got harder over prospects of bedding my daughters. See, you got even harder just now. I’m going to call them to come right over over and get some.”

“Wait, don’t do that. Wouldn’t it be better if you discussed it privately, first? They might feel they’re being put on the spot. Feel coerced, unfree to decline. Pressured not to say no to their boss. They’re my milk maids you know. Employed by me personally.”