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“All of them,” she whispers, her eyes searching my face for a reaction.
I wasn’t expecting that and I’m not quick enough to stifle my shock before she notices. Clearing my throat, I try to rescue the situation. “So you’re polyamorous?”
“Yeah,” she says. “I know it’s not very common and I didn’t set out wanting that kind of relationship. They grew on me and then I couldn’t imagine choosing between them.” She shrugs and I raise my eyebrows, awed at the laid-back way she describes something so extraordinary. I thought Dawn was a freak for her relationship choices, but Natalie seems perfectly ordinary. I want to know more but with the kids tugging at her arms and her men glancing over to see if she’s done talking, it’s not the time to ask questions.
“Would you be up for taking a walk along the beach sometime?” I say. “You could bring your camera and tell me all about your fascinating life. I need some female input into my article.”
“As long as it’s anonymous,” she smiles. “I don’t want to be the next big thing in your magazine. Not that our relationship is a secret. Mason’s an artist with a pretty high profile. It’s not possible to maintain total privacy.”
“Of course,” I say. “I have a friend in the same situation as you. I just find it fascinating.”
“Looks like you could have the makings of a great harem yourself.” She grins as the twins get bored and wriggle from her grip, running along the sand toward the lapping waves.
“As if.” I glance back at the scene she’s assessing, finding Tom, Jimmy and Jonas running into the ocean, leaving an arc of foaming spray behind them. Stefan and Oliver are engrossed in a conversation, Oliver facing away. Theron and Gabe are sprawled out on the sand, soaking up the early morning sun and laughing, probably at something crude.
“Do their personalities not match up to external appearances?”
It feels unfair to let someone reach that conclusion when, in actual fact, they’ve all made a pretty good first impression. I can’t exactly tell her that it’s me who wouldn’t be enough. Me who wouldn’t cope with the pressure of a situation like that. Time to come up with some excuses. “It’s not that. They’re surprisingly awesome. It’s just that they don’t all know each other. There are a few who do. It’s not like brothers or friends who’d feel more comfortable getting into that kind of arrangement.” What am I even saying, trying to justify any of this?
“Yeah. I guess it helps for them to have some kind of connection beforehand,” she says. “But as long as everyone gets along…” She trails off, her eyes dancing with possibilities. “It sounds like you’ve thought about it!”
I wave her away, dismissing her suggestion out of hand. “I wouldn’t be enough for that kind of relationship. There isn’t enough of me to go around.”
“Our capacity for love is infinite,” she says dreamily. “Now, time can be an issue. But it’s better to spend time on the men you love than swiping through never ending social media.”
“Now that is true.”
“Natalie, are you ready?” one of the gorgeous triplets says.
“Sure. Can you get the boys?” She tips her head in the direction of the twins who are squealing as the waves lap over their toes.
The triplet with the tattoos and the one who spoke are quick to grab their offspring, lifting them so they are both perched high on their shoulders. There’s more excited squealing and Natalie threads her arm through the arm of the remaining triplet. “Let’s go,” she says, then turns her attention to me. “Maybe we could meet tomorrow morning at 8am. I love that early morning light and I can get some great images?”
“Yeah. That would be awesome.”
“Cool. See you later, Allie.” Natalie raises her hand in a wave, and I watch the sweet, unconventional family make their way down the beach.
“Nice people,” Russell says.
“Yeah,” I agree. “Three husbands must be a lot of work.”
His neck twists fast in my direction. “What…?” His attention is drawn back to the retreating forms, eyes narrowed in assessment.
“Yeah. They’re all one big happy family,” I say.
Clay clears his throat. “You're serious? I mean, I knew there were people who live that way, but I’ve never met anyone who does.”
“My friend has multiple partners. Nine. And her friend has eight!”
“Nine?” Russell’s voice sounds strangled with surprise.
“Yeah. She met nine friends, and they were happy to share her rather than make her choose between them.”
“They must be happy with scraps,” Carson says. “Like, how does one woman satisfy all those men?”
“If you met her, you’d understand how. She’s a force to be reckoned with, and I don’t think they keep their sex life one-on-one, if you know what I mean.”
Carson shifts his stance and folds his big arms across his chest. It’s a defensive stance which suggests he isn’t convinced. “Maybe that could make a difference, I suppose.”
