MEARA
The house was noisy. It was a big brick building in an upscale neighborhood, and there was quite a party going on inside. It spilled over into the fenced-in backyard where someone had dug a fire pit, and there was a pig roasting over glowing coals.
I was there with my sister, sort of. It was her boyfriend who owned the home, and he’d invited me along with at least a hundred other friends. Well, he was one of my sister’s boyfriends. She had three.
When Millie moved back from Ireland, she stayed with me for a few months. In that time, she managed to scoop up three of the most eligible bachelors in all of Chicago. Not that I minded. I was thrilled for her because I knew she’d always wanted a polyamorous life.
Ever since we were little girls, she had more Ken dolls than Barbies. I was the one who refused to play with dolls altogether. I was much more of a wild child than she was, even before we were old enough to drink. I spent my time with boys even in elementary school.
I loved parties. Anything that brought people together to have fun, listen to music and have a good time was my bread and butter. It didn’t matter that I didn’t know anyone going into the house. By the time the night was over, I would have a dozen new friends and phone numbers in my contacts.
I arrived at the door with a bottle of wine. First rule of any party is never arrive empty-handed. The door was open because the host was too busy to greet everyone coming in. I said hi to a few of the revelers before searching out the kitchen. I had been to Warren’s house a few times for smaller get-togethers. He must have invited the whole university because there was barely any room to maneuver.
In the kitchen, I found at least a dozen people standing around talking and pouring themselves drinks. I joined the crowd, uncorking my bottle. A woman about my age was investigating the cupboards.
“Hey, can you find us some glasses?” I asked her.
The woman produced two coffee mugs, setting them down on the counter next to me. I shrugged, pouring a bit of wine into each cup. We clinked before taking a swallow, and I left the bottle on the counter for the next partygoer. Sharing is caring.
Moving through the party, I noticed a big spread on the dining room table. There were all kinds of nibbles from chips and pretzels to miniature sandwich trays. I picked up one slice of a turkey sub and continued on.
I saw someone I recognized from photos. It was Millie’s friend Bre. She lived in Ireland, I thought, so I was surprised to see her at the party.
“Hey,” I said, opening my arms to hug her.
“Hey?” she sounded a little surprised but obliged by hugging me back. She was standing with an older man, a little salt and pepper around the temples but well built.
“I’m Millie’s sister,” I introduced myself. “Twins actually.”
“No way!” Bre stood back to evaluate me, shaking her head with respect. “You do look like her, although your fashion sense is completely different.”
“Yeah, she’s a little more conservative,” I said.
It was an understatement. While Millie dressed in upscale casual clothes for work and to hang around with her three professors, I opted for pink hair and sparkling boots. I could look normal for work if I had to, but as soon as I was off the clock, I let my creativity run wild. There was no mistaking me for Millie, although if you gave us the same haircut and the same outfit, it would be hard to tell us apart. I didn’t mind people saying we looked similar. Millie was adorable, and I took it as a compliment.
“I thought you were in Ireland,” I changed the subject.
“We were.” Bre looked up at her man. “This is Flynn. He’s Seanan’s father. We came to the States to visit my parents, and I wanted to stop by and see Millie while we were on this side of the world.”
“Sounds good,” I mused, taking a sip of my drink. “Where’s Seanan?”
“She’s around here somewhere.” Breanna gestured, apparently unconcerned.
“Is she your only one?”
“Danny’s with Connor,” Breanna replied.
“Is he the father?” I asked.
Breanna looked to Flynn, and the couple shared a secretive smile. “He’s one of Danny’s fathers.”
“Oh, that’s right.” I remembered what Millie told me about her Irish American friend.
Bre left America to visit the land of her ancestors after her grandmother died. She found a job as a nanny to a billionaire who was also a single dad. One thing led to another, and she ended up falling in love with the man. Along the way, she also accumulated other lovers who were, if I remembered right, equally rich. It was Breanna’s story that inspired Millie to take a chance and ask her boyfriends if they would all mind sharing.
I couldn’t even imagine how that would work. All of the guys must be extremely open-minded. Not only did they share a girlfriend, but they were a part of each other’s lives in a way that made the entire group a cohesive whole. In Bre’s case, they were all parenting her child. It meant that little boy was going to grow up with more positive role models than any other kid on the planet.
I knew that type of arrangement wasn’t in the cards for me, but I couldn’t help wondering. How amazing it must be to have three guys at your beck and call! Neither Millie nor Bre would ever be alone again. They would always have someone to spend time with, someone to tell them how amazing they looked.