Chapter 26

We headed to Little Italy’s for a post-game party. My dad and I continued to talk about some things along the way that could help me and my girls. Nick had pulled strings and gotten us the back banquet room. I was not surprised to see my possible latest girl, well, woman, Phyllis was already there with her daughter and my other girls. After my conversation with my father, I knew what I needed to do. I grabbed Jennifer and pulled her to the corner of the room.

Jennifer glared at me, almost daring me to talk, but I wasn’t having any of it. I looked into her eyes and simply stated. “You are mine.”

Jennifer’s eyes immediately softened. I continued. “Janie is mine.”

I think I broke Jennifer, I thought. She just nodded in agreement.

I smiled. “Monique is mine.”

Again she nodded.

“Phyllis may be mine if she decides gives herself to me and when the time is right.”

Jen broke out of her daze, “Oh, she will!” she exclaimed. I shushed her.

“Not so loud,” I hissed and then whispered. “Jen, I know you want this and to be honest, so do I, but we need to be discreet. Phyllis is a grown woman and she could get into trouble with the law if we’re not careful.”

I saw Jennifer’s face break and she sobbed. I quickly grabbed her into a hug.

Over Jen’s shoulder, I saw Nick across the room giving me a quizzical look. I simply waved him away and he nodded. Friend or not, the last thing I wanted was trouble with Nicholas Bridges.

“I didn’t mean ... trouble... “ she sobbed.

“It’s okay, Wife. I know you didn’t,” I beamed into her teary eyes.

“Oh, Tommy, my love,” she squeezed me as hard as she could and I could feel it.

“You know I love you, my bold little huntress.”

The look I got from Jennifer was positively full of love, desire and recognition. “I will be careful, Tommy. I promise,” she said, before adding, “You know, she’s just a girl at heart.”

“I do know that,” I grinned.

I got punched in the shoulder. “That’s not what I mean. I mean that she lost her childhood when she was only a little older than us. In some ways it’s made her more responsible, but there is a little girl inside of her ... a little bisexual girl,” she grinned. “A little bisexual girl who still sees herself as a teenager in some ways. She’s so hot for you right now that you could have her any way you want her.”

I nodded. My erection from holding Jen had gotten somehow even harder. “That’s why we have to be even more careful. I know we’re all still young, but I called you ‘wife’ and I mean it. I feel the same way about Janie and Monique. I may eventually feel that way about Phyllis too, but we have to be careful. The world does not look kindly on plural relationships or bisexuality. It doesn’t like mixed race relationships and positively hates relationships between kids and adults, regardless of mental ages.”

Jen nodded and let me continue. “In about two years we’ll be sixteen.”

“But we’ll still be kids according to the law.”

“Not if we did what Monique did.”

“Emancipation?” she asked.

“That’s right. My dad and mom are willing to do that for me if I prove to be responsible enough. I don’t know the laws concerning this, but I may be able to be with Monique and Phyllis if she wants to be with us.”

“She will,” interrupted Jen.

I nodded, not believing, but really more hoping Jen was right. I was dying with curiosity at solving the riddle that was Phyllis Manning. There was a story there and I wanted to know it, almost as much as I wanted to get to know her. “Whatever she decides, I think we can convince Nick and Natalie to do the same for you. It may be harder for Janie because of her mom, but hopefully we can make it work. Until then, we need to be discreet with Phyllis.”

Jen smiled brightly at me and nodded. Now, we had a plan. We just needed to be patient and careful enough to make it work.

We walked back to our loves both wearing a look of determination. In the past, Jennifer had always seemed to be the timid one compared to the outward audacity of Janie Parker. Now, she had become the strong one. As we sandwiched our blond babe, with Monique sitting on my other side and Phyllis on Jennifer’s left. I munched on my pieces of pizza and when Janie wasn’t looking, I would take a bite of hers. Janie just growled, but I could tell she was having fun when she took a bite of mine. I must really love her because for about five minutes, I stopped eating and began to feed Janie my pizza. When she had enough, she took my hand and put it on her belly to soothe her digestion while my beloved Monique fed me (Growing boy!). I looked over and saw Jen joking with Phyllis and little Susie, as she made weird faces at the little girl causing her to crack up.

Despite our blissful table, I looked over and was startled at the glare I was receiving form Janie’s little sister, Emily Parker and Jen’s little sister Maggie. I had been warned by both Janie and Natalie that Emily blamed me for the collapse of her family. I was feeling a palpable example of this dislike. From what I could tell, Emily’s look was of sheer hate.

Once we were ready to leave, Emily and Maggie pulled me aside. As I had come to expect, Emily would do all of the talking.

“You think you’re special, don’t you,” sneered Emily.

“Not really. I think I am lucky.”

“Well, your luck is gonna run out.”

I stood up to my full height of about five foot seven (I had grown about an inch over the last couple of weeks). I was about four inches taller than the girls. I gave them a menacing stare. I figured they had earned it. “Is that a threat, Emily?”

I could tell that Emily was enraged, but I did see a little fear in her eyes. “I’m not saying anything, except you should watch your back at school.”

What Emily said had puzzled me. The girls were sixth graders and still at the elementary school. I began to worry that the girls may have done something to put themselves at risk to get back at me. I knew that there was no arguing with Emily. She was too far gone in her hate for me. I thought she shouldn’t drag Maggie down in the process of seeking revenge.

“I don’t know what you’ve done to enact your little revenge plot against me, but I hope that you haven’t involved Maggie in your foolishness.”

“Whatever we did will be worth it,” spat Emily.

Did? Was I too late?

Maggie couldn’t meet my eyes. Oh No!

I had a couple of choices. I could go to Nick and Natalie and the girls would deny it. I decided to have Jennifer reason with her sister and Janie kick the crap out of hers. I would never hit a girl, but I figured I didn’t have a problem with girl-on-girl violence out of necessity. I wasn’t worried about any kid in my school. I could handle myself, even against Tyler Thornbush. I was worried about the girls using their bodies to pay off a debt to some would-be seventh or eighth grade bully. My guess was that it would be a couple of bigger seventh graders. Emily and Maggie would have been at school with those kids last year. Of course, it could be the brother of one of their friends at school so that opened the door to an eighth grader. So instead of ratting the girls out to their parents, I ratted them out to their sisters. My girls assured me before I left that they would get to the bottom of Emily’s scheme.

That night, I got the call from Janie. She got her sister to talk by literally twisting her arm behind her back until she gave her the scoop. Emily had threatened to tell Natalie until Janie told her that would mean she would tell Natalie Emily’s secret. That would be what I would call mutually assured destruction. As it turned out, one of Emily and Maggie’s girlfriends, Maria Cappelli’s big brother, Vincent, was a seventh grader. Apparently Vinnie had to repeat third grade so he was about my age, only a heck of a lot bigger. Emily had given Vinnie a hand job and not only promised him her pussy, but also promised Maggie’s pussy to another seventh grader who would help Vinnie to kick my ass. Jennifer had immediately set her sister straight under threat of going to Nick and Natalie, and Maggie promised not to honor Emily’s terms.

I didn’t know a lot of seventh graders except a few teammates and I didn’t want to involve them, so I called my new seventh grade friend.

“Carter residence,” came a woman’s voice.

“Mrs. Carter?” I asked.

“Yes, this is Elvira Carter, who am I speaking with, please?”

“Mrs. Carter, you don’t know me but my name is Tommy Matthews. I met Mr. Carter and Lionel at our Babe Ruth game a couple of weeks ago and Lionel and I have become friends.”

“Well, both Donald and Lionel have mentioned you. Donald is on the road, but Lionel is available.”

“I’m actually calling for Lionel. Is he free and may I speak with him if he is, please?”

“He surely is, Let me get him.”

“Thank you. Mrs. Carter.”

“You’re very welcome, young man.”

The next voice I heard was Lionel’s.

“How’s my favorite white boy?”

“How’s my second favorite black boy?” I replied.

“Second?”

“Right now, I’m liking David Lincoln better. He doesn’t call me, ‘white boy,’” I laughed and Lionel joined in.

“Okay, you got me and I like Dave too. We black folks gotta stick together.”

Lionel’s racial awareness kind of raised my hackles a little. “Is it really that bad at school?”

Lionel sighed. “Man, if everybody were like you, I guess I wouldn’t feel like I do. My pops told me that was just what the world was like, but he said that there were good white folks too and he said that you were one of them.”

“It’s funny. Most of the kids I know don’t seem prejudiced. I do hear some people saying bad things about black people and calling them appalling names, but only a few. When I hear them do that, I always speak out,” I explained.

“Yeah, but it’s not like you folks come with labels saying ‘good whitey’ or ‘bad whitey’, “ he laughed. I couldn’t help but join him Lionel could be so wrong at times, but he did it in a way that was funny.

“Well, I’ll remember to wear my label from now on.”

Lionel laughed. “Nah ... you don’t need one, so what do you want, ‘good whitey?’”

“How about that you just call me Tommy?”

“Seriously, Tommy, my man, what can I do for ya, bro?”

“Vinnie Cappelli.”

“You want me and my boys to take him out? We’re just looking for an excuse to kick that cracker and his little pussy’s ass.”

“He’s a ‘bad whitey?’”