Marriage is a Contract

"Of course you can move in with us! Those are my babies, too, on the way with you. You're both going to be in the family way and I'm going to take care of my family, whatever your parents and friends and such think of it. I seriously doubt that your sister here will mind," I committed myself, hoping that Deanna didn't suddenly prove me a liar.

"What he said. I just gotta follow the leader, and that's Sam here. Sweet, sweet Sam. He's such a wonderful guy. What would we do without him?" Deanna backed me up completely...already, she was such a WIFE, loyal, caring, and willing to go to bat for me...then again, she'd always been that kind of friend, too, all along.

"On another topic, what do you say to breakfast? I'm cooking!" Erin told us, her eyes dancing with delight at the prospect of pleasing us both.

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Chapter 3

The years passed very quickly, much more than I thought, in fact. It badly strained things between the ladies and their parents, not to mention me, for a while, but in time, they accepted that I lived with and...slept with, both of their daughters. They thought that it was sick and immoral, but they proved unwilling to rock the boat in a way that would risk their contact with their grandchildren, all eight of them, in fact. Amber and Jeanette were joined by Samantha and Samuel Junior at first (Erin's first pair), followed by Benjamin (no, we couldn't resist) and Tabitha (courtesy of Deanna again), and at last Kendra and Kerry, thanks to Erin again. After that, both ladies went on the Pill and that was it, the end of the road for new offspring.

As for the other lovers, well, Annette, Deanna, and I had our deal, and God, it was pretty sweet! We all took full advantage of the chance to explore Deanna's sexuality as well as the joy of threesomes with each other. Annette never did want to stop and she still hadn't, years later. She was hooked equally on both Deanna and me. As for Darley, it was just her and me when we were together and she gave of herself in ways that I could never have guessed, often very submissively at times, sincerely atoning for past bullying with interest and in spades. If she had others, I didn't know it, but I didn't care. She and I were very happy with what we had.

Robbie and Deanna had a very rough patch following the wedding and her staunch refusal to bail him out, not to mention her having my children. They resumed their affair eventually, though, even as Robbie found himself another girlfriend. In fact, that made things easier on both of them, though it didn't last, as the girl in question simply couldn't bring herself to share him or condone his adultery with Deanna. While it lasted, though, it eased the pressure on them and me...and Erin, among others.

Nora Vasquez loved Robbie a good deal, but it was just too much for her, that and the fact that he had to eventually admit being sterile. To be fair to him, though, at least he was honest with her, both about his sterility and about his long-term romance with Deanna. She was just too much of a good Catholic girl from Spanish Harlem to accept the idea of him not only having another woman, but a married woman to boot. Even so, they lasted a good year before she hit the front door and never looked back. Deanna and Robbie held on as lovers, though, at least at this point, if a bit awkward and tense, even intermittent at times.

About five years down the road and Beatrice Maxwell had some unexpected pains in her belly. This led to the unfortunate reality that couldn't be ignored. She was tested, and sure enough, she had stomach cancer. Two years of chemo, radiation, etc. and everything only put it in remission for a short time. I gained a whole new respect for Clark, as I realized just how devoted this man was to his wife. He might be misguided in his religious views, at least to me, but he was a loving and doting husband, committed to his wife's care to the bitter end.

Less than half a day left upon this Earth, Beatrice asked to see me in private, much to my surprise. I had felt things get frostier between herself and me since discovering that my marriage to Deanna was broad enough to include both sisters, much to her chagrin...and her husband's. Even so, I wasn't going to deny the old lady her last chance to discuss whatever mattered so much to her. I was very curious, as a matter of fact.

"Ma'am," I addressed her formally at first.

"Oh, stop that foolishness, son. Call me 'Mom.' You're basically my son-in-law twice over, aren't you? You're the father of all eight of my grandchildren, husband and lover to both of my daughters. Let's not be coy or play word games here. You're virtually married to both of them, a polygamist in all but name. I've never approved, morally and spiritually, of your arrangement, but I have to admire how committed you've proven to be in your own rather lecherous way to my daughters.

"Without your sinful lifestyle, I would have maybe half as many grandchildren, if that many, and only half as much joy in my life. Your children filled a space inside me that I thought that my faith already did. You also made my Deanna much happier than Robbie ever did, I promise you that much. He was never any good for her, and one can only hope that she'll give him up someday.

"Yes, I know, you've had to accept his role in her life. That's been your sacrifice for all of the pleasure and joy of having my daughters in yours. He's been your cross to bear, mostly because he keeps bringing Deanna pain and sorrow. He's her addiction, her baggage, and you've been more patient than most men would be, just as Erin and she have been less jealous than most women would expect to be in the Bible Belt.

"Anyway, while Clark has been the very model of a Christian husband and such, not to mention father, you've been remarkable enough in your own hedonistic fashion. You've been very good to my daughters and I want to apologize and ask your forgiveness for judging you, when your crime or sin has been loving my daughters. Oh, I know that it hasn't been the flash and spark of romantic love as people think of it, but you have shown love in paying her bills, raising your children together, taking her on vacations, being at her side when she gave birth, consoling her when Robbie hurt her yet again, holding her head when she had to throw up due to morning sickness or hangovers, hosting her little parties or letting her host them, going to family dinners and reunions where we all judged you behind your back and smiled at you to your face, etc. Don't think that I didn't notice this.

"You did this for BOTH of my daughters. If Erin had just been a side piece, you wouldn't have been there for her, either. If Deanna were just a wife of convenience, why did you consistently treat her with affection and respect more than Robbie, who supposedly loved her so sweetly and romantically? If I have to hear of how romantic Robbie is one more time, I think that I will be even sicker than I am. There is more to romance, to loving, than flowers and Netflix and chill! There is also breakfast in bed when she's had a rough week, rubbing her feet when she's sore, rubbing her back, and, yes, that's true even when you also seize the chance to fondle her ass!

"Which is more loving, the occasional date and tumble with flowers and such, or taking the kids to PTA when your wife has to attend a bachelorette party for her close friends that she committed to before the school administration suddenly switched the dates? Which is more romantic, going to the movies together with a woman, or braving the idiots who somehow think you whipped because you buy feminine supplies and chocolate at the last minute for your wives? Which is more caring, a Valentine once a year, or a surprise trip to the spa when your ladies need a break from the hassles of motherhood?

"If that's being a half-husband to your wives, I'd take that over a 'whole boyfriend' who delays your date so that he could joke around a little longer at the barbershop. Yes, I got the whole story of how Deanna proposed this unorthodox marriage from her years ago. I know all about Darley Marcus, about Annette Krauss, about Deanna's little lesbian deal with that waitress, too, about all of the threesomes, including where Robbie and you shared Deanna and he went home once he got off and showered, while you cuddled with her. It's not my scene, but the difference between loving husband and loving boyfriend is telling.

"He called her 'high maintenance,' but you 'maintained' both her and her sister with pride, ease, and no apparent disgust or complaints. Yes, dear son-in-law, you love my daughters and you've made them so happy that they don't even know what they'd do without you. You did it without shame or embarrassment or any sense of humiliation. You've been their rock, their anchor, and they know it. You've been their safe harbor, their haven, their place of refuge from their troubles. They'd be lost without you.

"You've been strong enough to love two sometimes very needy women without any sign of resentment that I've seen. If you had just wanted sex, you'd be either long gone or just phoning it in by now. That's called love, Samuel Adams Hill, and I want to thank you for giving that love freely and without grudging to my daughters. I love you for it, not romantically, but as a son that I never had.

"I can think clearer and see things better now, on my deathbed than I ever did, and I can readily admit that I was wrong. You're the best damn son-in-law a mother-in-law could ever have, the best father to her grandchildren, pardon my French. I'd ask the Lord for forgiveness, but I think that maybe God needs mine...and yours, for being such a prick," Beatrice told me with a tearful hug.

"You're forgiven, Mom. Apology more than accepted. Sorry if I in any way upset or hurt you, even in a small or accidental way. Forgive me for that?" I cradled her tired, grey head.

"Yes...just please, whatever you do...don't ever give up my daughters. They'd be so sad and lonely without you and they have no idea just what you do for them. Fight for them...don't let Robbie have Deanna. Please...," Beatrice trailed off as the pain hit her again and she needed more morphine to dull it.

That was...revealing, I thought. My mother-in-law thought highly of me yet again. That and she wasn't too thrilled with her religion anymore, but maybe it was coming to the end of her days and realizing that her god had failed her that brought that on with her. It was perhaps that near death clarity that made her realize that there was more to life than following a strict, Christian code of moral standards. I was not just a decent guy, but a loving husband to both of her daughters (to be fair, the "polygamist" label was very accurate, bigamy laws be damned) and doting father to all eight of her grandchildren. I had loved her daughters with a man's love, a good mix of selfishness and selflessness, as opposed to a boy's love, which was pure ego and vanity. I had been fair and kind to her daughters, nor had I wasted their time the way that Robbie did with Deanna.

"So, what did Mom say to you?" Deanna asked me, truly unsure.

"She just wanted to make her peace with me for good, and she did. Beyond that, well, it's probably best to discuss that in private. I imagine that she'll have something to tell you soon, anyway," I said, and predictably, she did once she was back and lucid again.

"Well, for the record, let me just tell you that...I'm sorry if I've been a bit of a self-righteous dick. To you, to Deanna, and to Erin. Sure, what you're doing is...immoral, but for a degenerate, you've shown remarkably Christian qualities. Patience, longsuffering, kindness, generosity, thrift, industry, mercy, etc. You've been a caring and loving husband to my Deanna...and a, well, for lack of a better word, wonderful husband to my Erin, too.

"You're...oh, my God, you're a polygamist, to be plain about it. And you've been as good to Deanna as Hosea was to Gomer, all things considered, though she's treated you better than Gomer did Hosea. Anyway, I know that Erin is practically your second wife and has been for a long time. You're living in sin, but you're also showing incredible amounts of affection to my daughters, both of them. You've been good to me, too, to my wife as well, and especially to our grandchildren, all eight of your kids.

"I guess that it's a big difference between having children by several women that you never see again and you don't bother to even visit their kids. You take them to Little League, attend their school plays, all that jazz...and you take them to the doctor and their mothers, too. You nursed Erin back to health that one time that she twisted her ankle, and, yes, I heard all about that. Trust me, I know what you've done for my daughters and granddaughters.

"And why morally...and Biblically, I still can't approve, let's face it...Robbie's no Boy Scout, either. He's been committing adultery with another man's wife for years, including when he had a girlfriend of his own. He hasn't been there for the less fun stuff, though. He sent, what, one 'get well' card to Deanna when she got poison ivy that one time, and it was HIS fault! I know how she got that poison ivy, too! You took care of her...and didn't throw it in her face how she got the condition.

"But what cinched it for me, and put it all in focus, Sam, was imagining Deanna or Erin in that hospital bed, dying of cancer or something equally awful...and the only man besides myself I could see keeping vigil, looking out for her, thinking of her comfort as she breathed her last, the only one willing to face that...was you. It's easy to love a woman when it costs you little or nothing. It's much tougher to love her, let alone two women, when things are not so fun and easy. That's what love really is, according to First Corinthians, Chapter 13. 'Love hopeth all things, endureth all things,' well you get the point.

"Anyway, let's bury the past and the hatchet with it. I'm proud to have you as my son-in-law, proud to have you as the father of my grandchildren. Call me 'Dad,' too," my father-in-law urged me at last, shaking my hand, which I warmly accepted in this bittersweet moment.

"Thanks, Daddy," Erin spoke up now, hugging her father and welcoming the butterfly kiss that he gave her.

If our children were present for this, they would have been, perhaps, a little confused, but happy that their parents and grandparents were getting along better. Of course, there was no way that I was going to subject them to something as painful as the sight of their dying grandmother, so they were staying with Annette, in fact. She even sent us regular picture messages to update us as to how they were doing, enough to more than put my mind at ease...and my ladies' minds, too. This was a prime example of how polyamory worked well for us, in that we had a built-in babysitter and one actually happy to be so.

Meanwhile, Deanna returned and there were definite tears in her eyes, even as she kissed me repeatedly and embraced me with a real urgency, whispering, "She told me that I was a damn fool for taking you for granted, and she was right...I just know that she was right. She made me promise to treat you better...you and Erin. She also told me that she was happy for us, all three of us, that we were as good a family as any she knew, better even than some that she saw at church regularly."

Erin, for her part, got called in next, and while she spoke to her mother, Deanna just cried on my shoulders while I stroked her hair and held her very tight to me. I got the impression that what Beatrice told her had sunk in very good, but I didn't know how well just yet. I didn't know if or when I would find out, but I did. The same was also true for what wisdom she gave Erin, as it turned out. I had two weeping women in my arms all night long that day, and that wasn't even counting when we got the news from Clark that she had passed away in her sleep.

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Chapter 4

Clark didn't outlive Beatrice by more than sixty days, as it happened. He put his affairs in order, sold off or gave away many things that he no longer wished to have, and then just...wasted away. In fact, he even started drinking a bit, something that he had never done before, just to kill the pain. This man was a lifelong teetotaler, but fifty-eight years of age, he took to booze and stopped going to church at all. I got the impression that he wasn't just lonely...he was bitter that God had taken his beloved mate away. He didn't take to women, though. He wasn't interested in living at all, and chasing women was part of life. He was too interested in dying and joining his beloved Beatrice in whatever afterlife she had. I think that he would have gone willingly to Hell if he could be with her.

At his funeral, just as at Beatrice's, Robbie was there, too, but he was a bit nervous and awkward the whole time. Perhaps he felt out of place, as things grew even more strained between him and the Maxwells in recent years than they had been between them and me. They had to be civil to me up to a point (and later, of course, warmed up to me again, in their last days). They didn't feel that they owed any such thing to Robbie Walters, the man who had Deanna for the taking and let her get away from him.

The way that Robbie had carried on at the wedding hadn't helped him with them, either. It was a case of "too little, too late" for Clark and Beatrice, as well as the rest of the Maxwell clan, not to mention humiliating to them and Deanna and me. Robbie had worn out his welcome with that tribe. If he ever did marry Deanna, he would have a lot of crow to eat and ass to kiss to get on good terms with his new in-laws.

Of course, Deanna and Erin were in too much pain right then to dwell on such issues, or so it felt at the time. They were surprisingly distant from Robbie, but I put that down as needing my solace in grief...and each other's. That should, in retrospect, have been a clue to me, but I'm a guy, not a mind-reader. I don't know women that well, despite living with two and dating two others. Then again, I've been called the "eternal pessimist," so that might be a factor as well.

I wasn't honestly sure what was going on between Robbie and Deanna for a good while after that, but events now moved much quicker than expected. Being polite as ever, we invited Robbie over for our eighth anniversary party, set for Saturday, and everything seemed as smooth as it always was. If anything, its proximity to the deaths of Clark and Beatrice Maxwell made people ready to shake off their grief a bit and live a little. I had no clue, nor did the others, what would come to cast a pall on our wonderful event.

We were just done with supper, digesting our food, playing games like horseshoes in the backyard, while the little ones swam and splashed each other in the water, some of us drinking some cold beer or chilled wine, when disaster struck. Robbie looked even more nervous than before, but he made his play nonetheless. I think, in hindsight, it was a last, desperate gamble, a reckless roll of the dice from a man who feared losing his lady's love for good. Right there, in front of me, during the anniversary of the date when Deanna and I took vows to each other, Robbie walked over to her and gave her a very intense kiss. She reacted with some shock, as he had never been so open with his affection in family settings like this before.

Even so, Deanna kissed him back with a passion that made me sick to my stomach. It wasn't watching them kiss. Hell, I had seen that plenty over the years, including during that famous threesome of ours. It was watching him kiss her during our special day...hers and mine, in front of our friends and family, as if trying to reclaim her from me entirely and exclusively. As it turned out, that was exactly what Robbie had in mind. I stormed out of the backyard in shock, anger, and pain, grabbing a beer on my way back inside, slammed the back door with a loud thud that couldn't be missed, and headed to the guest bedroom. I locked the door behind me, taking refuge in my craft brew and new feelings of hatred for my wife's beau. I saw nothing of what transpired afterward, but I heard plenty about it afterward.