by Casey Morgan
I leaned on the wooden front desk and thought about the right way to answer.
“Well, initially we met separately, but very close to the same time. And then we ended up on a date together,” I explained. “I’m not totally sure how that happened. I think it was by accident.”
“No,” admitted Ryan. “Brody and I were fighting over you and neither one of us would give you up.”
“Aw!” I said, momentarily touched at this fact that I hadn’t known, but sure did like.
“A-ha!” said Sergio, apparently understanding. “So, it is the love of the brothers, for you, that brought you together. Is it somewhat true that each of the brothers didn’t want the other to be alone?”
Ryan shrugged.
“Brody’s always been good at finding ladies,” he explained. “I wasn’t too worried for him.”
“Then is it that you equally love the brothers so much that you cannot bare to choose between them?” he asked me.
“I think that may be closer to being accurate,” I said.
I tapped my chin.
“I am very attracted to both of them,” I continued, after thinking it over.
“If you had to choose, would you choose one over the other?” asked Sergio.
“Oh, no!” I said. “I could never do that now. No, we’re in this together. If I couldn’t be with one of them, I don’t think I could be with the other one, either, at this point.”
Sergio took a few notes. He was utterly fascinated by our relationship. He seemed like he was one of those pith helmet guys on National Geographic, talking to the natives about their strange customs.
“So, did you want to have a relationship with two men at once? Was it something you always dreamed about?” he asked.
I laughed.
“Oh, no, I never did anything like this before, or even thought about it before I met them,” I said. “If you had asked me just a few weeks ago, I would’ve said that’s the craziest thing I’d ever heard of!”
“Really? And you, Ryan, have you and your brother ever shared a woman before? Or have you shared a woman with any other man before?” he asked.
“No,” said Ryan.
Ryan kept a close eye on the front door and the other doors in the room. The last thing he wanted was for someone to overhear this conversation. As a guest entered and walked into the pub, he stopped talking and followed them with his eyes until they were inside the pub and the door had shut behind them.
“I had never done anything like this before I met Shanna,” he explained, looking at me thoughtfully. “She’s unique. She makes me — I would do anything to be with her. Anything at all.”
“Aw! So sweet,” I said, giving him a kiss.
“So, who initiates the dates then? Do both the brothers ask you together or does one take the lead in some way?” Sergio asked, clearly still trying to understand. “The dynamic of this is very new. Do you have fights like a normal two-person couple?”
“Normal?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I’m sorry,” apologized Sergio. “Like two people. In a couple, it’s almost as if it’s man versus woman. Is it men versus woman in your relationship? Or who decides things?”
“We’re all pretty new to this,” admitted Ryan. “We’re probably still in the honeymoon phase of the relationship. We haven’t really fought.”
“Well, I was trying to explain something last night and got frustrated,” I said. “But it wasn’t like we were fighting. Ryan and Brody are brothers, so they do have an established relationship already. Plus, they’re both elves and I’m a witch. So, I guess I’d say it’s a bit easier for them to understand each other and be on the same wavelength than it is for me, coming into this relationship as a newcomer. But, this type of relationship is still very new to them, too, so in that regard, there isn’t much of a difference. We all just have to try to figure it out as we go.”
“Do you think your boyfriends, being brothers — Is that a reason you are with them? If they were two men from completely different families, do you think you would be with them?” asked Sergio.
“I think so,” I said. “Although that’s tough to imagine. I have only ever known them as brothers, but, in my mind, that isn’t a completely unifying factor. I mean, they are very different people. They have different looks, styles, different personalities, different clothes — I don’t think the fact that they’re brothers is a factor one way or the other. So, no. I guess I would say no in answer to that question.”
“Now, the big question,” said Sergio. “You have slept with these men, yes? You do this together or separately?”
“Okay, now I’m uncomfortable,” I said, ending the conversation.
“Oh, but please!” begged Sergio. “This is the most important part for the book.”
“Yeah, but it’s also our lives, Sergio,” insisted Ryan. “It’s private. Use your imagination.”
Sergio rubbed his bald head.
“But I need the details,” he insisted. “It’s the details that make a book good. Please! You think about it. I ask you later, huh?”
“Maybe,” I said, frowning. “But don’t hold your breath.”
Obviously pleased with this response for the time being, Sergio thanked us and rushed upstairs to his room with his notes in hand.
He no doubt was about to sit down and write his own version of our relationship. I hoped it wouldn’t be one of those tawdry sex novels.
“I’m calling Brody to meet us,” said Ryan. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Actually, Sergio’s questions gave me a little courage. Maybe people just need to open their minds a little bit and learn about us. If Sergio is curious, maybe other people are, too. Perhaps they’re just being curious.”
“Well, I guess that’s one possibility,” said Ryan, clearly not really believing it. “But the people of this village are very set in their ways and their ways go back hundreds of years, darlin’.”
He shrugged, as if none of this was new to him.
“I wouldn’t expect them to be that open minded. Most folks just won’t even care one way or the other, I think. But some will definitely disapprove, and others will be jealous. That’s just the way things work. And others are sure to join in once someone else expresses disapproval.”
“Yeah, I suppose it’s like that in any small town,” I said. “When one person starts an argument, sometimes the rest just pile on.”
“Exactly,” said Ryan. “If the rest don’t pile on, we might walk the whole festival without being noticed. But if they do, then, we’re in for a hard time.”
“I guess we’ll just have to see,” I agreed, nodding my head. “But at least we have each other to see us through it.”
“I sure am glad I have you,” he said, holding out his arm for me to take it. And I did.
“I’m sure glad of that, too,” I repeated.
I was ready – or at least, as ready as I could possibly be – for whatever our first day “out” as a threesome might hold.
Chapter 19
Shanna
“Hey brother, hey darlin’,” greeted Brody, as he walked up to the front desk.
He leaned down and give me a kiss on the cheek.
“Ready to see some turnips, then?”
“Yeah. What exactly is a turnip festival?” I asked. “I mean, it sounded like a cool social thing, but what are its origins?”
Even though my ex had been all about researching the turnip festival and he often mentioned how badly he wanted to go, he didn’t say much about the details. Now I knew that was because he was planning to take Nora and not me. I was sure he was talking all about it to her – and doing a lot of other things with her that he hadn’t been doing with me, either.
But now was not the time to think about that. Now was the time to get ready to enjoy this festival and my two elves. I was seriously glad my ex wasn’t here. He would have been a bore compared to them.
“Oh, who knows? It’s just an excuse to get p
eople to come into the village, eat and get drunk,” joked Brody, as he put on his jacket. “Any excuse is a good one, I suppose.”
Ryan swatted him on the shoulder.
“Don’t do that! Don’t joke about something so sacred!” He turned to me, and from his tone I could tell that he himself was being half joking, half serious. “Turnips have been grown in Luck’s Hollow for centuries. The elves use them for a very powerful healing soup. Me ma used to swear it would kill cancer and the common cold. Turnips have a lot of vitamin C in them, I guess.”
He shrugged. “Always tasted awful to me, though.”
“The sprites use them in a lot of their holiday traditions. They even carve them like jack-o-lanterns. The winged-folk swear that a turnip lantern will keep the bad spirits away,” Brody chimed in, as he wrapped a wool scarf around his neck.
“Turnips are a very important crop here and the festival has been going on for years. It’s a bit commercialized now, but it’s fun to see how creative the vendors get.”
Ryan took my hand and we headed to the door.
We walked outside Hennessey House and made our way to the center of the village. The villagers had booths and signs set up for the festival. They were selling a lot of turnip related merchandise, as you might imagine, but there was also plenty of the normal stuff you might expect. At one of the booths, they were serving turnip ice cream.
“Hey folks,” said the elf behind the counter. “Can I interest you in a taste?”
“You put turnip in ice cream?” asked Brody. “Did you lose a bet?”
“No!” the elf laughed. “It’s good. I promise ye. Have a taste.”
He scooped out little spoons for us to try. The ice cream was slightly gray. It wasn’t an appealing color, but I tried it anyway. Its taste was definitely unique, a little tangy, but it was actually pretty good.
Ryan liked it a lot.
“I’ll take a cup,” he said, getting out his money.
The elf gave him a cup of ice cream and Ryan started spooning it into his mouth right away. Brody looked at him like he was nuts.
“What?” said Ryan, as he licked his little pink plastic spoon.
“You’re eating turnip ice cream,” laughed Brody. “Mother couldn’t get you to eat turnip soup when you were a kid, not matter how sick you were. She should’ve packed them in cream and sugar.”
“She should have,” agreed Ryan. “Then I would’ve eaten them, because then they would’ve been delicious.”
As we walked into the crowd, I noticed some older women giving us the evil eye. Another group of elves folded their arms, whispered to each other and pointed. Sprites hovering nearby would stop what they were doing and glare at us. The accusing eyes were everywhere. Ryan and Brody seemed to be oblivious to them.
Should I return to the house? Hide out until my vacation was over?
No. Why should I let a bunch of people judge me? What did I do? Can’t a person live their life the way they want? And what did these old crones know about us anyway?
I hardened my resolve and put my arms through one each of Ryan’s and Brody’s arm. The three of us walked together. My confidence grew.
I was proud of myself for following an old adage one of my old teachers once said, “Fake it till you make it.”
We went to another booth. This one was selling turnip knickknacks. There were turnip oven mitts, turnip key chains, turnip fridge magnets, turnip salt and pepper shakers, turnip butter holders, turnip cream pitchers and — You get the idea. A heavyset witch behind the table gave me the evil eye.
“So, ye interested in buying something?” she asked. “Or perhaps your boyfriend, whichever one he is, might be interested in buying you a nice gift? Which one is your boyfriend, lass?”
I sighed.
“Both, not that it’s any business of yours,” I said.
“Ridiculous! Bad luck and leprechauns!” she muttered. “You can’t date two men at the same time!”
She pulled the old kerchief she was wearing off her gray hair and waved it at me.
“I’m not sure if it even counts as dating,” I said, pulling my two elves closer to me. “I think it’s something more.”
“You’re surely going to rot in hell for that!” she snapped.
“Shut yer gob, ya old bat,” dismissed Brody.
He had a turnip key chain he was inspecting in his hands. “Is this what ye call customer service? We’ll buy our turnip Chinese factory-made pieces of shit elsewhere, thank ye.”
He dropped the keychain back onto the old crone’s table.
Ryan and I laughed, and we all walked on. Some of the older people eyed us and just shook their heads. Most people were indifferent, but a few younger sprites looked and laughed. Some teenaged elves giggled and pointed when they saw us; others gave us thumbs up signs. At least the young still had an open mind.
“Hey folks,” said another vendor in the next tent we explored.
He was an older elf with a wide, kind face and slightly red cheeks.
“You like coleslaw, don’t ye? Well, try my new turnip coleslaw! Made from the freshest turnips!”
“Is that a thing then?” asked Ryan. “Do people make coleslaw out of turnips?”
“They do now!” the elf said proudly.
He had sample cups and we each took a bite. It was awful. We couldn’t help but make a face.
Brody rushed to the nearest trash can and spit his out. Ryan scraped it off his tongue and back into the cup. Only I managed to swallow mine, and truth be told, that was by accident. I quickly ran my fingers through the pattern for a mint spell and cleaned out my mouth.
“So? How do you like it?” asked the vendor, sounding excited.
He still had a wide, open smile on his face, as if he didn’t see our horrified reactions.
“Have you… tasted this?” I asked, pointing to my cup of coleslaw. “I’m pretty sure turnips need to be cooked first. You can’t eat them raw.”
“But they’re crunchy!” insisted the vendor excitedly.
He lifted a big spoonful up of his own product and waved it at us.
“You can’t deny that. That’s perfect for coleslaw. The crunchier the better.”
“Have you tasted it?” I asked again.
He picked up a cup and ate some, just to prove that he could.
“Well, what do you think?” I said.
“Can’t taste it,” he admitted, a slight blush on his cheeks. “When I was a lad, I had an accident and I completely lost my sense of taste. But, if you’re talking about the texture of turnips, I just love ‘em! They’re so crunchy. Since I can’t taste food, I just enjoy the texture.”
Well, that explains a lot, I thought. But who was talking about whether he liked the texture of his own turnips? Clearly some taste testing is important to do before bringing a product to market!
I almost felt we were being kind to him, by breaking the bad news so that he would know.
“I think you’ve got a very niche food item there,” said Brody.
He set his bowl carefully back down on the elf’s table. “Try marketing it to other people with no sense of taste. Maybe take it to England.”
“Are you serious?” the vendor asked.
“No, he’s not,” said Ryan. “Not even the English would eat this, and they enjoy eel pies.”
I couldn’t help but snicker, along with Brody, who was already joining Ryan in laughter. The vendor looked disappointed. He frowned and dropped his eyes down to his table full of coleslaw cups and jars.
“You have a very nice presentation though,” I said, trying to cheer him a little. “And you’re friendly. You make a good salesman. Maybe… just try selling something else.”
Ryan and Brody grabbed my arms and steered me away from that booth. Just as we were about to check out the largest turnips grown in the area – some up to thirty pounds – Ciara came running up to us. Ryan and Brody’s sister looked red-faced and out of breath.
“You three,” she panted,
leaning forward to catch her breath. “A word.”
We moved to a side road, so we could have a bit of privacy.
Ciara stood up and put her hands on her narrow hips.
“Please tell me that you’re havin’ a laugh at the village’s expense,” she said. “Tell me this is all just your idea of a very bad joke. People all over the village are talkin’ about ye.”
“Let them talk,” I said, looking her in the eyes. “We’re not kidding. We’re dating.”
“Yeah, the three of us have really got something here,” said Ryan. “We decided to go public with it, since people are talking anyway.”
“Are you daft? No one dates two men at once,” she whispered, trying to keep her voice down. “People are talking! And I think it’s a sin, isn’t it?”
“What do you care, sister?” asked Brody. “Can’t ye just be happy for us? Ryan and I have finally found someone.”
“But she’s the same girl!” she snapped. “How do you even — Well, I don’t want to pry. But wouldn’t that—?”
“We work it out just fine,” said Ryan.
He crossed his arms in front of his chest.
“Do ye really want to throw your weight behind the busybodies in this village who can’t mind their own? We’re not hurtin’ anybody and we’re having a good time. What’s it to anyone else?”
“Yeah, piss off, sister, or wish us well,” insisted Brody.
“I’m not trying to make things hard for ye,” she assured.
At this, she turned towards me.
“It’s just that — Correct me if I’m wrong, miss, but you’ll be returnin’ to the States, while my brothers will be left behind here in Luck’s Hollow to deal with the stigma and shame all on their own.”
She had a point, I supposed. I actually hadn’t thought it through that far.
When Ciara said that, I realized that I had nothing back in America worth going home for. I had quit my job to take the paralegal course that I wasn’t sure I even wanted to finish, my fiancé had left me, and most of my friends — well, they’d be more judgmental than the villagers.
And there was no way I was returning to my parents. Let them side with Nora if she’s so damned important!
