Page 117 of My Brother's Best Friends

“What, sweetheart?” I croon.

“Down!”

Laney already has her basic commands down, and she makes me laugh every time she issues one. I set her down and she boltsacross the field. She’s still small enough to scoop up, so I let her wiggle for a minute.

“It’s a lot of ground,” Janet says with a chuckle. “She’ll tire out quickly.”

“She hasn’t made it to the neighbor’s fence yet, so we’re good,” I tease.

Kellan comes up behind me. “Don’t worry, baby,” he whispers in my ear as he wraps his arms around my waist. “I’ve got one eye on the little munchkin, always.”

“Good. Because she’s a bolter,” I warn him.

Weekends when all of us stay home are rare. No one has to work in the city or crash at the apartment tonight. The vineyard pests add an unwelcome layer of tension, but I know challenges will pop up. I prepare for failure, too, though I don’t see it anywhere on the horizon.

“Oh, look at that, she’s coming back,” Janet notes with genuine surprise.

Sure enough, Laney sprints back, cheering and giggling, a dandelion held high while its fluff drifts behind her. “Mommy, look!”

“Incoming,” Janet says, and I follow her gaze toward the farmhouse, mere yards to our left.

A car rolls in—one of our best customers. He runs a restaurant one town over and features all our wines on his menu. In my book, he’s a good man with a heart of gold.

“Kellan?” Jack calls as he climbs out of the driver’s seat and spots my husband—well, one of them, though Jack has no idea about our civil union.

“That’s right,” Kellan says, pleased that someone got it right. “How did you know?”

“The hair,” our customer responds. “Yours is slightly longer than your brothers’.”

Legally, I’m only married to Kellan. They drew straws before we went into city hall to get our marriage license. But in our little corner of paradise, I’m married to the Anderson brothers, and only a select few in our close circle know. The fewer eyes on us, the better, we decided a while back.

“Plus, you’re the one holding your wife,” Jack laughs lightly. “Dead giveaway, right there.”

“Lucky us,” Kellan says under his breath, though his smile never falters.

“Welcome, Jack. Glad you could make it!” I cut in, eager to entertain. Jack isn’t in our inner circle, and I doubt he’d grasp our poly life, but he’s a loyal client and a generous soul, so I make sure he always feels welcome. “Let me show you our latest crop,” I say, gesturing toward the vineyard.

Laney takes Kellan by the hand and demands that he play. Janet and I stroll beside him, explaining the varieties we grow and how they blend into each vintage.

By the time we return to the house, Alex and Oscar are there.

“It’s looking great,” Jack decrees at the end of the tour. “I’d like to reserve twelve cases of your Cabernet, if possible. Those grapes looked beautiful back there…”

“They’re our heartiest vines, I’ll give them that,” I say with a warm smile.

“You’ve got really good dirt to work with, too,” he replies, nodding in agreement. “I’m glad I get to see the crop before it hits the bottle. It really helps me sell the wine to our customers, to be honest.”

Janet smiles. “You give them the full story, huh?”

“Oh, yes. It needs to be an experience, a journey for them to follow before I even open the bottle and pour the first glass. It’s what keeps them coming to my restaurant. My wife calls it… the art of waffling.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Well, I’m glad we can put you down for next year’s labels, then. You do us a great honor, Jack.”

“It’s my pleasure to support our young Napa Valley winemakers, Mrs.Anderson.”

We bid Jack farewell and watch him drive back to the gate, the sun gleaming above in all its golden glory.

It’s almost noon and I’m ready to have some lunch. Turning around, I see my three husbands coming out on the porch with our daughter. Laney runs up to hug me, bouncing between all of her parents like a ping pong ball. I swear, she’s blossoming under the care and love of her three amazing fathers.

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