Flyover Country Ch. 04

* * *

That didn't end it, of course. By the next afternoon, detectives in the big city had worked out the identities of all the players. They coordinated with the county Sheriff where we lived to come interview us. In fact, there were enough of them to make up a six-vehicle caravan which made its way inside our gates and up to the main house.

The Sheriff himself came to our front door, literally hat in hand. He knew my dad had been sheriff of this county through some of its most turbulent years and he was aware most of the old guard in the county remembered those times and my dad very well. When the current sheriff saw Dad standing outside our front door, the sheriff was all courtesy, deference, and polite requests.

Inside, Stephanie, Mercedes, and I gave the city cops written statements we'd already prepared and answered their questions for as long as it appeared they were sincerely trying to document the facts of what happened. We also gave them a copy of the video Mercedes had captured on her phone.

The moment the most junior detective asked a "gotcha" question, one of our attorneys cut the questioning off with a curt remark to the effect that the three of us would not answer any more questions, now or ever. He made it stick, too. The young detective got a number of irritated looks from his fellow cops.

One of the official entourage turned out to be from the District Attorney's office, and it appeared she knew all of the team of lawyers I'd had flown in that morning. When a detective shot a questioning glance in her direction, she shrugged. There was nothing she could do.

She knew my lawyers were good—they were better than good, they were outstanding—as well they should be, considering how much I was paying them. I hoped I was going to get my money's worth.

Another group from my team of attorneys was already in the DA's office in the city, demanding to know why the idiot who'd attacked Stephanie wasn't already behind bars and charged with attempted rape, and assault. He probably should have been charged with terminal stupidity, too, had there been such a charge.

* * *

Three weeks and four days later, it was all over. Doofus turned out to be Mr. Mulvane's youngest son. Mulvane tried to defend his boy's behavior, and even shift the blame to Stephanie. Our lawyers jumped on that, letting Mulvane's and the city's attorneys just what they'd do to them in court for victim shaming. Our lead attorney appeared to be salivating at the thought of tearing them a new one in a public arena.

The Mulvane team backed off and once the backtracking started, it was a snowball rolling downhill. Under pressure, the District Attorney charged Doofus with three felonies and an assortment of misdemeanors. It turned out there were a dozen videos of the incident in addition to the one Mercedes shot, and none of them showed anything favorable to the Mulvanes.

Doofus eventually pleaded guilty to a single charge of attempted rape and was sentenced to six months in jail, avoiding hard time in a Texas prison, but he still collected a felony conviction on his record.

The DA had initially wanted to do the Mulvanes a favor and charge him with a misdemeanor, but our attorneys made sure the local media were well informed of what was going on. The DA hadn't won his office by very much in the last election and he preferred to not have a well-to-do adversary (me) backing a law-and-order opponent next time around.

The DA's office tried to make something of me having "brandished" a weapon, but we countered with a suggestion the huge bodyguard's actions constituted unlawful restraint and use of potentially deadly force was entirely appropriate. A video surfaced showing the behemoth planting his right hand on my chest and that ended any implication I might have acted imprudently. If the man-mountain had actually confiscated Mercedes' phone, that would have opened up another big can of worms—theft, obstruction, and tampering with evidence, were among the worms mentioned. Wisely, the DA backed away from any suggestion he might even contemplate filing against me.

My lawyers were disappointed. They'd seen a chance for a ton of billable hours if the DA had actually moved forward.

Stephanie's suit against the Mulvanes for creating a hostile environment—the attorneys said something like that, but I wasn't listening too closely—was settled immediately out of court to avoid even more adverse attention. Suddenly, Stephanie was a millionaire, and Mulvane even paid her attorney fees.

Our team of lawyers went back to Dallas, I quit shelling out vast quantities of money for their services, and peace descended on our ranch. I foolishly thought that was going to be a permanent condition.

* * *

A few weeks later, my Mom and Dad came by to collect all four kids—Stephanie's little girl, Daphne, had long since been adopted as one of my parents' grandchildren—and the whole group was on a long weekend camping trip in Mom and Dad's big RV. I didn't count sleeping in a nice bed inside a substantial RV as "camping," but, each to his own. Judging by the video chat we'd had earlier in the evening with them, the kids were all having a ball.

Mom and Dad couldn't stop smiling. Having four grandkids all to themselves without any of the parents along was Mom and Dad's idea of heaven.

I was in bed and, since Mercedes wasn't with me, I was perusing the cable provider's premium movie channel lists for movies to DVR and watch later. I was relaxing and enjoying not being "on call" for any child-sized emergency that might erupt down the hall without warning.

The hallway door opened and Mercedes glided in. She surprised me; I'd thought she was in the master bath and should have come into the bedroom through that doorway instead of from the hall. I was doubly surprised when Stephanie stepped in the bedroom right behind my wife.

Both women were dressed in diaphanous black peignoirs that didn't conceal a darn thing on their luscious bodies. I made sure the coverlet was far enough up to hide my middle because there suddenly was a small tent building there.

"Matt ... dear ... WE have a problem!" Mercedes announced in serious tone of voice.

I could almost hear Scooby Doo saying "Ruh Roh" somewhere close by.

Mercedes sat on the bed on my right side and confiscated the universal remote control. Stephanie established herself on the bed to my left but didn't make any attempt to get close to me. She simply sat there looking radiant and luscious. Okay...

Mercedes started the DVD player, scrolled through the options and selected a clip labeled simply, "Stephanie," and clicked on it. Whatever she was about to play, she'd had it prepped and ready.

"Watch this!" Mercedes commanded.

It was the video she'd taken of the "Mulvane Incident." I was well acquainted with it. I watched as Doofus capered around in front of Stephanie for a moment and then reached up to put his hand on her upper chest. A second later, he grabbed the top of her formal gown and ripped downward. Stephanie's big breasts spilled into view.

She didn't open her mouth to scream, though others within range of the phone mic surely did. Suddenly, I flew into focus from stage left, grabbed the guy and quickly beat him down. I did like the way I'd done that. Enough force to get him off Stephanie, but I'd held back when I could have stomped him into the ground. I thought it showed I was finally maturing.

All of my attorneys liked what I'd done, too. It left no wiggle room for the authorities to charge me with anything. The clip ended with a view of me sliding out of my jacket and settling it over Stephanie's shoulders to hide her bare breasts.

"Did you see it?" Mercedes demanded with a lot of emotion.

I wasn't sure what she meant, other than the obvious. "I've seen it before, yes," I answered noncommittally. I had no idea what Mercedes' point was.

Mercedes started the video over. "See what's happening here, Matt ... watch Stephie's face ... watch her eyes..."

I did just that as Mercedes played the clip in slow motion. I didn't see much of anything I hadn't seen before. I shrugged, reluctantly—I really wanted to add something to the discussion—but I had to concede defeat. I didn't know what it was my wife wanted me to see.

Mercedes crawled up on the bed and I made room for her, shifting under the blanket closer to Stephanie, who was on top of the blanket and therefore, safe. My wife pointed the remote at the player again and restarted the video in slow motion.

"You see...?" Mercedes almost whispered. "...Our Stephie isn't afraid of that guy ... she's not even looking at him; she's looking at you coming to save her. See...?"

Well—that seemed to be about right. Stephie wasn't watching Doofus' face, or looking down to watch what he was doing to her dress. She did, in fact, seem to be looking to where I suddenly came into view. She didn't even flinch while I disposed of the creep. When I stepped away from him and turned back to her, all she did was tilt her face up to look me in the eye, put her arms around me, and tuck her face into my chest.

Mercedes backed the video up to where Stephanie was looking up into my face and froze the image there. My wife leaned over and kissed my lips gently. "Baby," she said softly. "...Stephie wasn't afraid; she knew her knight in shining armor was coming to save her ... and you did." She paused for a moment to let her words sink in. "Honey ... see how she's looking at you...? You can see it. My "sister" is in love with you ... and you know it," she finished.

I grabbed a big lungful of air. I couldn't deny what Mercedes said.

"...And here's what Mrs. Stanley got with her phone..." Mercedes remarked, pre-empting anything I might have said to defend myself.

Mercedes played another very short clip; it only showed me shedding my tuxedo jacket quickly, draping it over Stephanie's shoulders and hugging her close to console her. When the player reached the end, Mercedes backed it up and stopped it with me looking down at Stephanie.

"...And darling," Mercedes murmured, "...you love her, too!"

I didn't know what to say. What she said was true, though I'd been denying it to myself for a long time. I couldn't refute what Mercedes was telling me. The video was incontrovertible.

"Honey...," I began in a strangled voice, "I would never—" I stopped, glancing at Stephanie. I didn't want to hurt her, but I had to reassure my wife—

"Baby," I started over, "...I just could not ever cheat on you. I wouldn't do that to you..."

Mercedes had been busy while I tried to sort my way through this minefield. She'd shut off the DVD player, dimmed the lights in the bedroom to a warm shade of twilight, and then stood up to undo her peignoir and let it slide down to pool around her ankles.

Movement on my left caught my eye. Stephanie was removing her peignoir also, and smiling happily me as she did it. The two nude women slipped beneath the coverlet and cuddled close to me. Stephanie pillowed her head on my left shoulder and on my right, Mercedes snuggled against me, then braced herself up on her left elbow.

"Baby...," she whispered softly, "I know you would never cheat on me ... you don't have it in you, honey..."

"But...," I protested.

"Shhhhhhhhhhhh. I know..." She kissed me and patted my chest reassuringly. Both women kissed me on each cheek.

"Look at us, Matt, baby," Mercedes said serenely. "No one here is cheating on anyone ... no one is betraying someone else ... no one is deceiving anyone ... no one is going behind somebody's back ... it's all right out in plain view ... right?" Mercedes cooed.

Stephanie rose on her right elbow and leaned in to kiss me on the lips. When I didn't object, she did it again, longer and more sensuously this time. "I do love you, Matt," she whispered. "I have since ... forever, and I always will."

"See there?" Mercedes murmured from the other side. "She loves you, I love her, she loves me and I love you, and you love me ... and you love Stephie ... don't you, honey?"

"I ... I do, yes," I admitted, "but..."

"And since you caused Stephie's divorce, we just have to make all this right ... you can see that, right?"

"I didn't—hey, wait! How did I cause...?" I protested. I hadn't even been there.

"...Because he wasn't you ... and didn't know how to be you," Stephie said softly. "...And I didn't even know I was looking for you the whole time. It was all very unfair of me, but I didn't know, so Danny never had a chance. I was so sorry about that, but it was too late for him and me from the beginning..." Stephie said softly, regretfully. "...But now I'm here with you and Mercedes, and I promise you, we're going to be the most loving and the happiest three people in the world..."

I took her at her word, and I accepted that Mercedes meant what she said also.

"But..." I took a deep breath. I let it all out in a long sigh of defeat.

"Do you know how complicated this is going to get...?" I asked rhetorically. Neither of them was listening to me, but I didn't mind, considering what their hands were doing under the covers...

"Mmmmm hummmmm," Mercedes mumbled cheerfully from my right side. "Yep," Stephie chimed in from my left, "...but we'll work our way through it, baby. It'll just be wonderful..."

* * *

And mostly, it was. We had our spats—both women were strong, spirited, individuals and I was known to have some headstrong tendencies myself—but we made an ironclad agreement always talk things out and especially to never let things fester. We never went to bed angry. Some nights we stayed up pretty darn late, but we ultimately resolved everything before the lights were turned off.

We made love, the three of us all together, or sometimes just two of us. When we made love as a trio, it seemed to be right for two of us to make love together to the third—and then rotate things around until all three of us were sated. I still loved to please a woman with my mouth, so while I was doing that, the other girl was taking care of the kissing and stroking above—and then we'd switch. When we were in the mood for some good, old-fashioned raunchy sex, we took care of that too—quite often, as a matter of fact.

We made a determination the three of us needed lots of time with each other, probably more than a couple did. We solved that dilemma by allowing Mom and Dad, or our babysitting teenagers, to babysit the four children frequently. My parents loved all four of the children, and wanted to see them often, and for longer and longer periods.

When Mom and Dad needed a rest, or had commitments, we enlisted the services of Amber and Pamela for babysitting duties. They were well paid, and they loved our kids to death.

When Pam went off to college, and Amber succumbed to the charms of a local boy, marrying him in a traditional June wedding, they referred us to other girls in the area who would keep the kids for us overnight or for a weekend now and then. There was, in fact, a never-ending supply of babysitters and we used them extensively.

* * *

Before the first of the kids started grade school, I adopted both Mattie and Daphne. Mattie was named after me; Mercedes' husband never knew that, but he wouldn't have cared much. He'd never wanted children and couldn't be bothered to be a father. He agreed to release all parental rights without having to be coaxed. Daphne's ex agreed to the same thing, partly because he'd met a woman and felt he should concentrate on having a family with her. He didn't have the money to visit Daphne regularly and their relationship died a slow death.

I was surprised when Stephie, and then Mercedes wanted to have more babies. I thought four children was plenty; they convinced me through discussion, and less aboveboard means, how wrong I was. Stephie had another little girl, and Mercedes had a boy a couple of years after we became a loving trio, then Stephie gave us a boy and Mercedes, another girl.

I loved all of them. My life is filled with the love of my ladies and all the children around us.

EPILOGUE

I looked down the slope and saw my nineteen-year-old son, Tommy, and two of the older girls coming up to the big house, probably for supper, though they were a tad early for that. Mercedes held out a refilled glass of iced tea to me and we all three settled back in our porch furniture to enjoy the coolness of the early evening.

Tommy had grown up to be a brawnier version of myself, but one could see his mother in the shape of his nose and the seriousness in his eyes on occasion. Seventeen-year-old Mattie was a cute, vivacious clone of her mother, Mercedes, and eighteen-year-old Daphne had all of Stephie's grace and beauty, and her big breasts too. Tommy and Daphne attended Texas A&M already and Mattie was starting there in the Fall.

My daughter, Judy, wanted to be a pediatrician and she was in pre-med at TCU, but home with us for a few weeks between terms. Judy was out in the backyard supervising all four of the younger children playing there. I could hear their excited squeals and shouts.

When I was a teenager—younger than our older children were today—my Mom and Dad had allowed me to stay on my own down in the house the trio of our kids just exited. When it came time, I'd convinced Mercedes and Stephie that doing the same for our older children was a good way to promote responsibility and resourcefulness and usher them into adulthood gradually. I thought my idea had worked quite well.

The four of them had set up housekeeping—there were plenty of bedrooms in the latest version of the house down there—and it seemed everyone was happy. The children had a degree of independence that they cherished, and it gave us adults a little space to raise the younger brood. Not having to listen to the latest incomprehensible craziness of whatever was called music in their generation was a distinct plus in my book.

I watched Tommy, Daphne, and Mattie climb steadily up the asphalt toward us. The plowed field where I'd run myself into condition was long gone, of course. It was just grassland now.

The two girls and Tommy were arm in arm. They stopped. Tommy and Mattie turned to face each other very deliberately. Young Mattie reached up to wrap her arms around Tommy's neck and proceeded to kiss my son very thoroughly. When they released each other, Daphne pulled Tommy to her and put her own version of a lip lock on Tommy.

"Well ... crap!" I exclaimed. What our children were trying to tell us was unmistakable.

The young adults were moving again. Tommy had his right arm wrapped around Mattie's upper body and his left around Daphne. The young women had their arms wrapped just as securely around him.

Mercedes chuckled beside me. "I told you he'd figure it out sooner or later," she said, leaning across my body to talk to Stephie.

Stephie's tinkling giggle answered Mercedes. "Took him long enough, huh?"

Evidently, I'd been a little blind to some things going on around me.

* * *

"Dad...," Tom said to me as the three of them walked up to the porch. He wasn't defiant so much as he was earnest. The girls gave me a kiss on the cheek and stood waiting. They were smiling gently.

I looked at the three of them. I tried for a baleful expression, but I couldn't make it work so I gave it up.

"You all understand how danged convoluted and complicated everything's going to get, right? I asked looking them all in the face in turn. I was looking for some embarrassment or chagrin, but I didn't find any.

"Yes...," they said in unison. They smiled again. The girls mounted the steps to link arms with their mothers. "But we'll always have our mommies and you to help us over the rough spots, Daddy," Mattie said quietly and confidently.

I let the air in my lungs rush out. There was no sense fighting a stacked deck.