“She’s good. Fit to burst.”
There’s a rumble of laughter that I suspect is due to these men imagining Danna’s sex life. I guess the idea of her dealing with ten men at the same time is mind-boggling enough to be amusing. “Did you meet all the Jacksons?”
“Yeah… they’re all great.”
“Great?” Sean’s eyebrows are still raised, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Yeah… funny, smart, kind to Danna, family-oriented.”
“Good looking?” he asks.
I shrug, trying not to respond to his amusement. I know exactly what he’s getting at, but I’m not rising to it.
“I guess. But obviously the other things are more of a priority.”
“Are they? I think most girls would put looks and physique first.”
John scowls next to me. “Just because you’re pretty and some girls are stupid enough to fall at your feet doesn’t mean that looks are a priority for everyone.”
“They fall at my feet because of my charm too!” Sean grins, his straight white teeth so perfect they’re dazzling.
“Well, Danna wasn’t looking for a sex arrangement, was she? She was looking for men to settle down with.”
Sean nods, his head cocked to one side and full lips pursed in amusement. “Is that what you’d be looking for, Maggie?”
“Leave her alone,” John says. Beneath the table, his foot nudges mine, but I’m not sure if it’s accidental or an attempt to reassure me.
“I’m all about the sex, Sean. Men are good at that. It’s the other stuff they fall flat on, so I’m pretty used to having low expectations for anything else.” When I say it, I’m not looking for sympathy. I want to shock him out of prodding me anymore, but instead, I get a room full of men who seem like they’re feeling guilty for every douchebag move they’ve ever made, and I’m sure there have been plenty.
“You don’t need to have low expectations, Maggie,” Reggie says. “There are men out there who know how to treat a woman.”
“Oh yeah?” I rest my hands flat on the table, gazing around to see who’s going to add to this conversation. If they think I’m just going to stumble around this house, falling into beds as my cousin did, they’ve got another thing coming.
“Yeah,” Reggie says firmly.
I nod, pursing my lips as I consider them all. There’s an eruption of laughter in the den, which only makes the silence in here feel louder. We could sit here doing this strange dance. I could pretend that I didn’t overhear their conversation and that John didn’t kiss me. I could pretend that I haven’t considered what it would be like to believe that these men could be for me what the Jacksons are for Danna.
We could exist in the land of pretense, but I don’t think I can do that. Not when the reason I’m here is weighing inside me. Not when every day that goes by takes me closer to being a mom. I want the ground to be firm under my feet for once. I don’t want to dance around the truth, pretending that reality is something different from what it actually is.
“I heard you vote on the day I arrived,” I say.
The silence stretches as my foster brothers glance at each other, silently trying to work out what to say now that they’re exposed.
“What did you hear?” Gordon asks.
“Enough,” I say.
More looks are exchanged, and then Sean grins. “So that’s why you rushed up to Danna’s. You wanted to find out what it was like to have ten men at your beck and call.”
“I went to see my cousin,” I protest, but he smiles knowingly.
“What did she tell you? Did she show you their huge bed or tell you they never sleep apart?”
“No.”
“Did she describe what it was like to have ten men working to please her?”
“No. She’s a married woman. A pregnant married woman.”
“She got pregnant the same way all women do.” He chuckles, looking down at my belly area and raising one eyebrow.
“She told me she fell in love with them.”
“Before or after she had sex with them?”
“Again with the sex.” I roll my eyes, exasperated. “And anyway, what has Danna got to do with this? I’m talking about what I heard, and you’re just proving to me exactly what I think this is all about for you.”
“And what is that?” John asks softly.
“Pity and sex.”
“Fuck.” Gordon shakes his head and stands, stomping out of the room like a bear with a sore head.
“He can’t deal with this kind of conversation,” John says. “And pity and sex aren’t where our heads are at.”
“So, where are they?”
As I speak, a rumble of footsteps sounds in the den and hallway. I turn and find all my missing foster brothers parading in, led by Gordon. I guess he didn’t stomp out because the conversation was getting difficult. He wanted all his brothers by his side for this conversation. Something about Gordon’s action thrills me. Like the Jackson brothers, these men do act like a unified group.