Page 81 of Repluse

“I’m not related to any of them, so it won’t be weird for me,” Marcie says with a shrug.

“So, how’s it work? Are you two just into Mils, or are you into each other as well?” Ells continues, ignoring Marcie.

“I’m into both of them, while Sammie here”—Sam holds his beer bottle up in case there’s any doubt as to who Frankie’s talking about—“he’s into Mila, and when we’re all getting into it, he’ll occasionally be gay just for me.”

“Giver never a taker,” Sam clarifies.

Frankie’s phone vibrates from where it sits on the coffee table in front of us. He had a conversation with his mum on the phone earlier, and she’s promised to visit in the next few days and tell us everything she knows. I have a vague recollection of her from when I was a kid, and can’t wait to become reacquainted, and to thank her for helping my mum.

Frowning, I pull my phone out of the pocket of my hoodie just as Ella’s phone starts to vibrate, too.

Not wanting to talk over everyone, I stare down at the unknown number on my screen, then up at Frankie as he answers with a “H, what’s up? What? When? Shit, okay. Yeah, Mila and Ella are both here. I’ll let you know. Yeah, cheers, mate. Cheers.” He ends the call. “You haven’t been putting your engineering knowhow to any kind of nefarious use have you?” He asks, looking at Sam.

“Maybe,” Sam replies. “Or maybe someone I know has.” He shrugs. “Why?”

“The chopper Scott and Logan were flying back from the city in has gone down in a paddock about twenty K outside of Yira—no news yet on survivors.”

I know it’s inappropriate, but my dark and twisted soul just can’t help it. Looking between Frankie and Sam, I know there’s only one thing to say about the situation.

“Oops,” our warped minds say in unison.

EPILOGUE

Six Years Later

Frankie

I rub more sunscreen onto Bear’s nose, cheeks, and ears as he watches Wilder getting thrown through the air in the pool.

“Am I done?” he asks, his blue eyes on mine.

“Yep. Finish your icy pole, then you can get back in.” He lets out a sigh at my instruction, then sits on the sun lounger next to me. “Wild, come get some more sunscreen on!” I call out to our eldest son.

“I’m fine,” comes his reply.

“I’ll be the judge of that. Come get a top up, and you can have an icy pole.”

Sam lifts him out of the pool immediately.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, princess?” Sam and I respond in unison when Sofia calls our name.

“Do I need more sunscween?”

“I think you’re good for the minute,” Sam says before he swims towards her.

Her little face is barely visible beneath the hat and sunnies she’s wearing, along with her bathers and floaty jacket.

“But can I still have an icy pole?” she looks across to me and asks.

“You can have whatever your little heart desires,” I tell her as I hand Wilder his icy pole.

Our five-year-old doesn’t look at me with anywhere near the same level of adoration in his green eyes, so much like my own, as our FiFi does.

Three kids. Two dads. One mum. Two dogs. One horse. Three ponies.

One life.

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