Bill was Marjorie’s second husband, but few people knew this, certainly not their five children, or their many grandchildren. Even Marjorie frequently failed to remember. Bill, on the other hand, never forgot. Because, you see, Howard was still with them. Their marriage was now, and always had been, a threesome.
They had removed themselves to their boatshed, when the big house on the rise, overlooking the bend in the river, became too much for them. Not too much to tend, it had always been thus, but too much to contemplate, to rattle around in. They offered the house to whomsoever of the children was prepared to have ‘them’ living at the bottom of the garden. A few eyebrows were raised, and breaths sucked in, but eventually Eleanor, the girl in the midst of all that rowdy testosterone, agreed to the pact.
This way, Howard did not have to move either.
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