Best of Rivals

It took me a minute to figure out what was going on. When I did, all I could do was stare at the three giggling girls. Okay, really, I was just staring at Amy; I don't care if Chelsea and Tiffany are knocked up or what.

"So, what you think, Daddy?" Amy asked, hugging me tight.

"I think I love you more today than I ever did," I said and meant every word of it.

Because of my earned credits, even when I had failed and been held back one year, I had enough credit to graduate a few months early. There were no parents or grandparents to come to the graduation ceremony, I told them just mail me my diploma. And again, Amy had to be a bitch. A smart bitch, but still, she's a bitch.

"Okay, Trey, Daddy," she said, indicating her still very flat belly.

Tiffany and Chelsea, and Lynette, who had joined the Pregnancy Squad, they were all showing their baby bumps. Lynette actually looked pretty close to ready as she walked up and down the steps of Tiffany and Jamal's trailer or Amy's trailer, wherever they decided they were holding the current Squad meetings. But Amy was still pretty flat.

"I know we got money," Amy said, holding my hand against her flat belly. "But mommies are supposed to stay home and take care of the babies, take care of their man when they come home."

When she said 'take care of their man' Amy moved my hand to her crotch. I could feel her pussy, feel her pussy hair through the panties she was wearing.

She smiled, then lightly slapped me as I started rubbing up and down her crotch. She put my hand back on her belly.

"Pay attention," she ordered. "Now, that means, you need a job."

I started to say something, but Amy kissed me and I shut up. She smiled and gave me a second kiss for being a good boy.

"Yes, Trey, I know. We got plenty money," she said again. "But Baby, you need something to do, other than just sit around all day. You're way too smart to just sit here."

I'm not too smart. But she's right. Sitting around is boring.

"College is out," Amy said. "Let's face it, you're going spend whole bunch of money and learn nothing? So, you need go to a technical school. They'll teach you something you can use and even help you find a job."

Amy asked me what everyone had, whether they was rich or poor. What did every house in our town have? What did every apartment, or trailer or MacMansion have?

"Televisions?" I guessed.

"Yeah, but, Wally World's got them so damned cheap don't make bit of sense fix the old ones," Amy agreed and gave me a kiss.

Every house, trailer, apartment in the United States might have a television. But what they all also have is a refrigerator. And it can take anywhere from five hundred dollars to twenty five hundred dollars replace the one you got. So, if you can get yours fixed for two, three hundred bucks, you're going get yours fixed.

So, after getting my diploma from high school, I went to the technical college up the street and learned refrigeration. Because I'm still pretty scrawny, I can fit in some pretty tight spots and do some quick repairs.

The Pregnancy Squad became the Mommy Squad. Out of the five children that got born, ours are the only white ones. Chad and Chelsea got divorced long before Chelsea gave birth to Jamal's baby girl, Shaylene. Guess they did a lot more than just walking around Bourbon Street on that weekend trip to New Orleans.

Tiffany wasn't too happy with her best friend about having her husband's baby, but they still hang out together. Lynette's baby daddy didn't stick around for the birth of his baby boy. Tiffany had a baby girl and named her Chalissa.

"You name either one our kids any that ignorant shit, take a belt to your ass," I whispered as Amy lay in our bed, belly ready to pop.

"kaquisha Konisha Krylon Lott and Jabiddy Jabooty Jabarry Lott," Amy suggested, giggling.

"I love you," I said, cuddling up as close as her belly would let me.

"I love you too, Daddy," Amy said. "And I told you, their names are going be Michelle Angela and Mariam Andrea."

Except for Michelle decided she was going have a whang, so he's Michael Angel.

Billy didn't live long enough to make it to trial. The chicken shit asshole decided to hang himself in his cell. When he heard his baby boy was dead, Mr. Collier had a major stroke and is pretty much a vegetable. He just sits in his wheelchair and mumbles shit to himself. Mrs. Collier had to face the charges of arson, destruction of private property, reckless endangerment, because she'd called Amy to see if Amy was home before they firebombed her trailer, witness intimidation, and a bunch of other shit.

Tiffany and Jamal suddenly decided to get a divorce; Chelsea got herself knocked up again. Tiffany is not happy with her former best friend and husband. I'm not very happy with Jamal either; son of a bitch tried putting the make on Amy as well.

I thought we were buddies. And, you just don't do that kind of shit to your buddy. Did I think Tiffany was hot? Yeah, especially when she was running around in that lime green bikini when she and Amy would take the kids down to the little swimming pool in our trailer park. But I'd never make a move on her. She's the wife of a buddy. And buddies don't do that kind of shit to each other.

I got home one day just bone tired; a restaurant's walk-in freezer had gone down and they were scared to death they were going lose a few thousand bucks worth of food. We got it up and running, but it had been dirty, nasty work. I can tell you right now, we ain't ever eating at that nasty ass place. Should seen just how grungy that freezer was.

"And there's our Daddy," Amy called out, 'helping' Mariam walk over to me. "Tell him. Tell Daddy what we need."

"And what we need?" I asked, giving my two women a kiss.

"We need a bigger house, Daddy," Amy said and took my filthy dirty nasty hand and put it on her belly.

So, we bought a four bedroom house in a nice neighborhood. The back yard already had an in-ground swimming pool and we bought Andrew a swing set. Most of the neighbors are in their mid to late hundreds and look down their noses at us. Personally, I don't give a shit. They can look down their noses until their eyes fall out; we're here to stay.

Tiffany 'borrowed' some money from Amy, to help pay for her lawyer, and to buy herself a car; Jamal had the only car. I say 'borrowed' because I know we'll never see a penny of that money. But with her own car, Tiffany's able to come over and she brings Mishayla and Chalissa with her. Now the neighbors really look down their noses at us; having us a blonde friend with two little nigger kids. Honestly? I always thought it was low-rent mother fuckers that was prejudiced. Turns out, rich people are just as bad.

When we moved, Amy decided she wanted all new furniture. We've got plenty money so that's fine. The only thing she wanted, refused to leave behind, other than our mom's good dishes is that stupid Kitty Kat clock. It sits right there, in our little breakfast nook, where I got look at it every morning as I'm eating my breakfast. Eyes and tail, back and forth, back and forth.

Amy's doctor said it's pretty unusual, but not unheard of, but Amy's pregnant with twins again. I offered to get my whang whacked; five kids is plenty if you ask me.

"You do and I'll divorce you," Amy promised.

I don't bother pointing out we're not really married so we really can't get a divorce. I just hug her and tell her I love her.