Eric & Will make a B Movie

I was treated and kept overnight. The bullet had passed through my shoulder, managing to miss bone. The doctor told me I'd be sore for awhile but would heal quickly. He told me to rest and take it easy. I got up off the bed and went hunting for my wives.

They had been drugged. Savanna had shown up with a bottle of bourbon, acting contrite, and asked if she could spend a few moments with Eric. The girls had agreed, only if they were in the room. She didn't like it but they gave her no choice. Pulling the pistol out after she was in the house, she got them into the dining room. Opening the bottle she forced them to drink, Eric the most.

The police analyzed it later, a potent brew of cocaine, date rape drugs, barbituates, and some compounds that they couldn't identify. The ER doctor was pretty sharp, and thought they may be experiencing alcohol poisoning, prompting him to have their stomachs pumped. Without a doubt it saved Eric's life, since she had forced him to drink the most.

It scrambled their brains, a little. The girls were foggy for two weeks. Thankfully, they were so far out of it they didn't remember the confrontation. When their faculties returned, they were so shaken I couldn't leave them for weeks.

Eric had to be placed in a care facility, one that catered to the most severe of addicts, while his system readjusted. After ten weeks he was functional enough to be released, coming straight to us. Between the girls and the rest of the family, he was under constant care. It took him almost a year to recover fully. He spent the time wisely, falling in love and marrying Maria, once he was declared fully competent.

I was surprised to find that in the event of mental incompetence, he had put in a living will that I be named guardian. I suspect it was written when we were much younger and he'd never gotten around to changing it. A judge agreed, and I was his guardian until he was declared sound.

I found his businesses in shambles. Savanna had gotten hold of most of his financials, and was steadily siphoning them off. After the crime, she was investigated more deeply. She'd used part of the money to finance drug deals, and the rest was sitting in offshore accounts. He got almost every dime back.

In the end, Savanna was charged with kidnapping, three counts of attempted murder, drug trafficking, embezzlement, probation violations, and a dozen other minor charges in both federal and state courts. She was unrepentant, and after six months of examinations, deemed sound enough to stand trial.

It was one of the shortest trials on state record. Guilty on all charges. After sentencing she was turned over to the feds, who were really interested in her drug associates. I looked at her closely as they they took her away. She held her right arm awkwardly, a result of the paralysis. Most of her right breast was gone, and her torso was a mass of scars. She had to be on a restrictive diet, mostly baby food, because her internal organs were so damaged. I wondered how it had affected her sex drive. She looked me in the eye as she passed, burning with hatred. Did I feel sorry for her? Not a bit.

Chapter twenty-one

The story was a national sensation. Sex, drugs, movie people, the tabloids ate it up. After living quietly for years, we were in the limelight, and I didn't like it. It got so bad I called all the networks, telling them we'd give one interview, at our studios, in one week. They could all film it, but only two journalists were allowed to ask questions, and we had veto rights over who. It would be up to them to pick them, or we'd choose our own, film it independently, and release it on the internet.

I would have loved to be a fly on the wall while they negotiated and horse traded to pick the journalists. It came down to Charlie Rose, a man I'd admired greatly, and a young blond from Fox I'd never heard of. In a nod to Rose, we sat around a large kitchen table in our sound studio, and gave the histories of our lives. We'd been coached by our lawyers, who were present, on what we could and couldn't say about our relationship.

The blonde, Melissa Andrews, got into it pretty quickly. "Are they your wives?"

"We're life partners, We have children together. But we're not married, at least not in a legal sense. I find it odd you can live with as many people as you want, but you can marry only one. I feel that barrier will fall in the next twenty years or so. Don't think so? Bet you thought the same about homosexuals being able to legally marry. I can marry Tory, or Tory could marry Cathy, but we can't all be married. Does it matter to us? It does to me, I don't think it ever bothered the girls much. They both have my name, but only because they went to court and changed it. But make no mistake, I'm just a henpecked husband over fifty, but the henpecking is done in stereo. Do I recommend it? Only if you think it's right for you. Think about it though, the tribulations can be twice as hard, but the rewards can be twice as sweet."

Charlie Rose surprised me. "There isn't much of a paper trail on you before about twenty years ago, when you started making movies. Then it seems you were everywhere. Your production company is responsible for two very successful television series, and your theatrical movies have a very impressive track record. If that isn't enough, you seem to be able to work with some of the most reclusive writers in the world. How is that all possible?"

I took a deep breath. We'd talked about it beforehand, and I'd decided it was time to come out of the shadows. Time to let the world know who I was.

"It was really easy, Charlie. You see, I'm Rock Stone. I'm also Issabella, and Wiley B. Smiley. I'm a one man shop."

That surprised even him into silence. Then the blond laughed. "You really expect us to believe it? You are three of the most successful writers of the last two decades?"

"You're a journalist, Miss Andrews. I don't expect you to take anything at face value, that would be pretty naive, for a professional, now wouldn't it? Do what you're supposed to do. Investigate."

Charlie couldn't help but smile as the woman blushed furiously. "Well, I believe you. It's just to easy to verify, if you open up. But tell me, why did you reveal that now?"

I shrugged. "Age, attitude, I don't really know. Just tired of living in the shadows, I guess. Doesn't change me personally. I'm still a pretty private person, protective of my family. Just like any guy in the suburbs. You try to do the best you can for your family, no matter what dynamic it may consist of."

Melissa, smarting by my put down, tried to attack the girls over their past. I smiled, knowing what was coming. I'd done my own investigating. They were smiling, nodding their head, waiting for her to finish.

"Why, yes, Melissa, we were in porn. Are we proud of it? Not particularly. We did what we had to to survive. Surely you know what that's like, don't you? When you first moved to LA, a single mother with a small child, didn't you once do a spread for a major adult magazine of the time? I bet you're glad now they never published it."

She'd gone white, all her moral high ground evaporating under her feet. "How did you...I paid good money to get rid of those pictures!" Suddenly she shut up, realizing she'd just confirmed she had indeed posed nude.

She lost her taste for the interview, and Charlie carried the rest of it, talking about the incident that had sparked the interview, asking about future projects, commenting on our commitment to our community with charity events, our horse therapy, and our partnership with Jose saving dying equine breeds. He said later in his memoirs it was one of his most memorable interviews.

We were hot for awhile, then some senator got caught doing something with a foreign politicians' underage daughter, and we were old news.

Eric and Maria bought two hundred acres twenty minutes away, and built a house that looked a lot like ours, and a nice clinic for her to practice out of. He became a minor partner in the studio, developing a taste for television shows. They have four kids now, all boys. Eric says they're not going to stop until they have a girl, but Maria swears the next one will be the last, no matter what the sex is.

Tina went to college, majoring in agribusiness, and took over the horse operation when her father retired. She married, a Swedish exchange student who is scared to death of horses. He's an engineer. Two kids, one each, so far.

Both Tory's sisters went to school, studying film. One is a sound editor for us, the other is a fledgling director, working under one of our best on a television show. Both married, one child each, both girls.

We have most family events in the summer, there just isn't a house big enough to hold all of us. I expanded the outdoor dining room, because I had to.

After co-writing several Battle Babe novels with Leah, I turned them over to her. She's working on a second generation storyline that holds a lot of promise. Issabella retired, though I still write a romance from time to time. They aren't quite as successful, a gender bias I suspect.

I turned the studio over to Eric, Dorian, and Leah. I'm still Chairman of the Board, but I only come in if they need advice. I leave the day to day decisions to them.

All this happened because I was at my desk one day, after working twelve and fourteen hours a day for weeks, trying to keep our latest project on time and under budget, when I felt a tightening in my chest. It got worse as the day went on, and not being an idiot, I immediately went to my doctor. That resulted in a trip to the hospital, where I was admitted for 'tests'.

The girls went crazy, and the rest of the family descended on the hospital like an angry horde. "Stress," the doctors said, "and he really needs to exercise more. A change in diet wouldn't hurt, either."

The upshot of the whole episode was that the family took a vote and decided it was time for me to retire. I wasn't allowed to cast a vote. The threats my wives made if I didn't follow their advice would have scared a hardened terrorist.

So, while the family indulged in all the spicy and delicious meals we were known for, I got salads for awhile. The girls also had a tennis court installed, and I went back to playing, appalled at how bad I was. The kids were beating the crap out of me. Of course, I was fifty-five and out of shape, and they were teenagers, but still.

After three months I was back to eating whatever the family had, but only in moderation. I lost twenty-six pounds and had an excellent fat/muscle ratio.

Of course, the girls were already retired, concentrating on our babies, if since the youngest were fifteen now they could still be counted babies. I became a soccer dad, helping haul our extended family to sporting events, practices, any lessons they were taking, movies and outings, anything at all. I ended up purchasing another minivan to match the ones we already had. This was less stress? Of course it was.

The best times were when we were riding our horses, and fishing. We'd saddle up after Sunday lunch, if it was weather fit, and ride the trails we'd laid out. I still had Mike, my mule, although his riding days were almost over. Pretty soon I'd retire him, giving him his own small domain, along with a few older mares he could lord over. I'm pretty sure he'd be happy.

I would lead, Tory and Cathy following on their fourth generation Paso Fino mares, who pranced nervously, chafing at the slow pace. Then came Leah and the kids, mostly on Fell ponies. Dorian had finally broken down and started riding one of the rare breeds, a small draft horse with curly hairs flowing down its' legs. They'd follow along for about fifteen minutes, when the girls decided enough was enough, and go thundering by me, followed by everyone over ten, whooping and screaming like banshees. I worried a little, but I made them all wear helmets and vests, that were the equine version of an air bag. It was tethered to the the saddles, and if you came off the horse it deployed. The younger kids and I would follow along, while they complained endlessly. They knew it was no use.

Their fishing trips could get really interesting. Sometimes we'd have five boats in the water, three pontoons and two bass boats. I rarely got to fish, having to bait hooks and release the fish they caught, while the kids giggled and laughed, and the women lay out in various styles of very attractive swimwear, getting sun.

Epilogue

I came in one day and immediately felt my neck prickle. My wives had that 'I know something you don't' smirk on their faces. It came out as we prepared for bed.

"You got a letter today."

Knowing I had to play the game, I waited. "It was an invitation. To your high school reunion. Forty years, wow. We already RSVPed, saying we'd be there."

"Why would you do that? I didn't like most of those people then, why would I care to see them now?"

"It's not about you seeing them, honey, it's about you being seen," said Cathy. "Yeah, we want to show our honey off, maybe rub it into the faces of the ones who thought you'd never amount to anything," chimed in Tory.

"To quote someone I can't remember, living well is the best revenge. I'm rich beyond anything I could ever imagine, married to not one but two of the most beautiful women on the planet, have great children I couldn't be more proud of, and an extended family like nothing I could ever envision. Why go back and remember times when I was less than happy? I don't think we'll be going."

I stepped out of the limo the girls insisted we arrive in, and turned, helping my wives out. There was a small crowd out front, smokers no doubt, who watched in awe as they appeared, dressed to the nines in designer gowns, diamonds glittering at their throats, wrists, and ears.

It was fun when we walked up to the registration desk to check in and get our badges. One of the women manning the desk had been a cheerleader. She was still attractive, even with at least forty more pounds on her frame. She'd always been friendly, so I gave her a smile and hug. Her eyes widened when I introduced the girls as my wives and asked for their name tags.

The girls were all over her, asking questions about me when I was a teen, laughing hysterically when she showed them my senior pictures, with my skinny frame and shoulder length hair. Then they all whipped out photos of the kids, and complimented each other on them. Seems Clarice had six. Busy girl.

We finally found a table and sat. They had a DJ playing music from our youth, and when we danced they had to stop because they were laughing so hard at my semi-alcoholic attempt to 'bust a move'. We visited with all my old friends, and the girls recorded the tales of our misspent youth. I had a feeling they were going to play them for our kids sometime in the future.

Then I saw her. My ex. She was just as slender as she was forty years ago, she'd always had a high metabolism. She was about to turn away when I took her hand. "Melanie, how are you?"

She looked scared to death. After all, the last few times I'd seen her, I had been pretty harsh. "Fine, " she said nervously, looking back at a table. The man, fat and gray, was obviously drunk, his head nodding as he struggled to stay awake.

"Your husband?" She nodded, looking miserable.

"Look, Melanie, I won't keep you long. I just wanted to apologize for my cruel words the last time we talked. I was still hurting, because I still loved you at the time. I hope your life has been everything you hoped for. I hope you're happy. I am."

I hugged her, and turned to go, bumping into the girls. I hadn't realized they were standing behind me. They both hugged me briefly, introduced themselves, and shooed me away, dragging Melanie away to an empty table, where they talked for twenty minutes, before getting up and returning to me.

"Take us home, honey, we have an urgent need to be close to you, to hold and love you, to appreciate how lucky we are to have you."

They didn't have to be told, they knew I would always be the lucky one.

The next morning, they started. "We had a good talk with your ex. Her world is crumbling. Her husband is losing the business, it never recovered from the crash. Every thing they have is heavily mortgaged, and they'll lose it all soon."

"So?"

"So you have to help her."

"Why?"

"Because it will reaffirm to us just how good a man you are. You loved her once, try remembering the good times. Consider it a cleansing, finally letting go of the past."

"I let go of the past the first time I kissed both of you. But if it makes my wives happy, I'll help."

The girls handled it, saving their home and getting them debt free. Then they told them they were on their own, and to never contact us again.

I sat back, years later, admiring the huge Christmas tree, barely visible under the mound of presents, my four kids and assorted cousins scrambling around, laughing, giddy with anticipation. My two oldest were married now, nice boys. I know, because I had them investigated. My youngest girl had her girlfriend from college with her, who followed her around like a puppy, looking overwhelmed and scared to death. My son Garrett had his future wife with him, a Greek he'd met when we were vacationing at our villa. Ursala had introduced her as a distant cousin. She was the Goddess, reborn.

The girls were flitting around, in matching red dresses and santa caps, tweaking the decorations. They were fifty six now, looking thirty(in my eyes, at least), as beautiful now as the day I met them. Cathy had refused to dye her hair as she aged, and now it was an intriguing mix of gold and silver. Tory steadfastly refused to admit it, but her glowing red mane was chemically enhanced now.

I had the little girl Eric and Maria wanted so badly asleep on my lap, worn out with excitement. She was number seven, with six older brothers. Maria just couldn't refuse Eric in his quest for a daughter. After she was born, Maria had her tubes tied, closing down the baby making factory permanently.

We'd had to rent the VFW hall to hold everyone, and they were starting to arrive. Leah and Dorian, Laura and Ursala, Jose and Sofia, Tina and Lars. Dorian's mother and stepfather were due to arrive soon. Eric and Maria came in followed by Amy and John, Sarah and Mike right behind. Carmella came in with her kids, her Jerry carrying yet another bunch of presents. Cat came in last, with her new husband Derrick, along with D W, and his girlfriend. My family, all. If God took me today, I couldn't complain. I'd let Him explain it the girls.

OH, and I got one of the best Christmas presents ever. I was about to be a grandfather, twice, in roughly six months, for one, seven for the other. They hadn't done tests yet, but they were positive they were both girls. My wives didn't know, and I asked them not to give them the news until the end of the night, knowing they'd cry for a long time, making me cry with them. Let them enjoy the party first. Then we'd celebrate the milestone privately. I doubted any of would get much sleep tonight.

The end