“Awww!” Jenna said, sticking out her lower lip in an exaggerated pout.

Laughing at their banter and pleased that they seemed to have formed a nice, comfortable relationship, I ate my fruit salad in pleasant companionship while the two of them chatted about home furnishings. It seemed as if they planned on doing some shopping for things our house lacked this time. Since they’d just done a lot of that for Jenna’s new place, they had a good idea of where to go to get the stuff we needed. It seemed to mostly be kitchen items like mixing bowls, spatulas, juice pitchers, and the like.

Thanking Angela for lunch, I made my way to the studio to find Emmy. The place had a certain maze-like quality, so it took me surprisingly long to find her.

I’d expected they would be in the main recording studio, but that wasn’t where I found them. They were in a room down in the basement, one of the old film vaults. It had been turned into a listening room, with top-notch sound-proofing and the best audio system money could buy. The three were sitting on a couch in the target zone of the speakers. With Riggo and Snake in chairs right behind, they were looking at notes they’d written on legal pads.

When I entered, Emmy looked up and patted the seat next to her, so I sat down.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“We’re testing the final masters for our new album,” Emmy said, leaning against me and wrapping my arm in hers. “We want to make certain they sound good to all of us before we are certain they are truly finished.”

“Well, O.K., then,” I said and settled back while Lee played with his laptop.

“Alright- I Can See,” he announced, pressing play.

The classic song that Emmy had already covered as a solo acoustic track for Grace way back when started to play. When Emmy had recorded it and sent it to Grace, she knew that it was inevitable that it would leak and get bootlegged, but she was fine with that. This time, though, it was an official Downfall recording, and sounded very, very different.

The version that Emmy had recorded for Grace was a bit subdued, with just her acoustic guitar and no other instrumentation. Her vocals on that recording had sounded shy, picking up a bit in the second half like the original but still staying more hopeful than sure.

This new version started off with a stand-up bass playing the melody, which was soon picked up by the piano- no guitar to be heard at all. Emmy’s vocals started out in the same range of emotions where the last version ended, hopeful of better things ahead. As the song progressed, though, the confidence and power of her voice increased until it was clear that she was simply going to steamroll any further obstacles in her way, whatever it took. Emmy’s singing ended on that note, secure in a future of unending sunshine, never a cloud in sight.

While I was still trying to recover from hearing it so powerfully for the first time, Jackson, Lee and Emmy immediately began to pick it apart. Lee backed up to a moment in the song that Jackson had noticed, so they could listen and re-listen to the stand-up bass line. Jackson and Lee got into a bit of an argument, Jackson unhappy with how he’d played it but Lee saying that imperfections are what make music real.

“We don’t drum-track, we don’t autotune, we don’t over-produce,” he said. “We’re real musicians, not synthesizers and programs. Tiny little imperfections like that, that we hear but nobody but the top-level musicians out there will ever notice, those make our music human,” Lee declared.

“Yeah, I know,” Jackson said, leaning back. “It’s just, y’know? This is our most perfect album, alright?”

“It is perfect,” Emmy said. “As Lee has said, we have never relied on studio trickery for our music, and I do not wish to start now. Your bass line is so smooth, so supple, I do not believe that we should even try to re-record it. I vote we keep it as is.”

“I know it’s not my place one way or another,” Riggo said from his recliner. “But seriously, that was fucking awesome. If I weren’t working all your shows, I’d happily pay just about any ticket price to see you guys. Everybody knows you’re purists, and all the audiophiles I’ve talked to rave about hearing your fingers on the strings, Jackson, or Emmy’s jingly earrings, stuff like that, that normally gets produced out. They know you guys are the real deal, and aren’t just studio fakes. Leaving those tiny little elements in, like Lee said, it shows your humanity.”

“Yeah, that,” Snake agreed from her seat. “Seriously, it’s fucking rad. If I didn’t know you guys or anything and that song came on the radio, I’d fucking turn it up to eleven.”

Jackson sighed and slumped back on the couch. “Yeah, I get it, I do,” he said, admitting defeat.

“Is it always like this?” I asked Emmy, whispering to not disturb the conversation.

“Yes,” she said. “Always.”

I gave her a little kiss and stood up to leave. “See you at home,” I said, which got me a laugh.

“Emmy’s commute is just murder these days,” Jackson said. “I don’t know how she can stand it.”

“It is a terrible hardship,” she agreed with a smile.

Back home, I found the roses I’d ordered delivered were in a vase on the kitchen counter. I was waiting for Emmy or Angela to ask why I’d gotten roses two days in a row, but until they asked, I wasn’t going to say a thing. I wondered how long it was going to take them to realize that I’d arranged for a daily delivery every day forever, or until I told the florist to stop. It was expensive, but if it made my girls’ lives even a tiny bit happier it was worth it.

I didn’t bother trying to hunt Angela and Jenna down, figuring they were either out shopping, or working out down in the gym, or something like that. Whatever it was, that was fine. I didn’t need to involve myself in it.

Instead, I grabbed a bottle of water and went to play with my new toy, the racing sim rig. Like I’d told Emmy and Angela, I’d never really been any sort of gamer, so I had no idea of what I was doing. It took me quite a while to boot up the system and figure out how to get things started, but eventually I had my profile configured and was off to the races, so to speak.

I liked that I could select different car types, including several types of GT3 racers. There were tons of tracks to choose from, with the promise of more available as downloadable content. I selected Sonoma Raceway, since it was the track I knew best, and opted for the Nissan GT-R, again, because of familiarity.

The stereo sound, the rumbling feeling through the seat and yoke, and the view from the front and side window monitors were surprisingly believable.

The track, too- they had it down with amazing accuracy. The pavement seams were in the right places, and if you ran over a cone, it stayed that way for the subsequent laps.

The only real break in believability was the complete lack of G forces from acceleration, braking or turning. At first that bothered me, but with time I noticed it less and less.

I had no idea how much Emmy and Angela had spent on the whole set-up, but I could see the value. I could pre-learn a new track and not burn half a day learning the lines on my first visit, meaning I could get up to speed right away.

I was beating the virtual snot out of my poor BMW GT3 around the Nürburgring Nordschleife when Emmy finally came and dragged me out of there for dinner.

“Did you like the racing game?” Angela asked after we’d all sat down to eat.

“I watched her for over five minutes, and she did not even realize I was there,” Emmy said, smiling. “She was very engrossed in racing her car through the forest.”

“Yeah,” I admitted. “Seriously, once I figured it out, how to set it up and all, it turned out to be way more awesome than I’d ever thought.”

“So now you don’t need to go to a real track ever again?” Angela asked, but I could tell she was just teasing.

“O.K., the sim is pretty awesome, but not that awesome,” I laughed. “In fact, it makes me want to set up some track time soon.”

“Have you ever been to one of Leah’s races?” Angela asked Emmy.

“Not races,” I corrected. “Just practice on a racetrack.”

“Yes, I have been a few times,” Emmy replied.

“Is it a lot of fun?”

“Mostly it is boring,” Emmy said. “I like to watch Leah go very fast, but after a while it is just the same thing over and over.”

“Watch her? You don’t ride in the car with Leah?”

“Her race car only has one seat, and the track officials, they do not allow non-drivers to ride along, anyway.”

“That sucks,” Angela said. “But if you signed up as a driver, you could ride in her car? If she drove her normal car, I mean?”

“Yeah, that’s the way people get around that restriction, alright,” I confirmed.

“Then sign me up next time,” Angela said. “I want to ride along with you.”

Emmy made a face and said, “You are braver than I. It terrifies me, the way Leah drives.”

“Oh, come on,” I protested. “I don’t drive that crazy.”

“Yes. Yes, you do. Very much so,” Emmy said in reply.

“You do drive like a crazy person,” Angela confirmed. “But I like it. It’s like a roller coaster- terrifying in a fun way.”

“Speaking of terrifying, we need to go get a Christmas tree,” I said, changing the conversation.

“Can we go tonight?” Emmy asked, suddenly enthusiastic.

“I don’t see why not,” I replied. “Ange, did you see the box of decorations when you were directing the movers?”

Next thing I knew, we were at a Christmas tree lot in West Hollywood. The girls wanted something huge and kept looking at trees well over ten feet tall, but when I pointed out that while we might have room for such a thing, there’s no way we could reach the top to hang ornaments on it, even if we bought a ladder- the spread was too much, too.

Finally we compromised and bought a ten foot Noble Fir, which I paid extra to have delivered and set up the next day.

Tree shopping done but no tree to show for it that night, I did a quick search for LA-area Christmas light displays and found that a botanical garden in La Cañada had what they called a ‘Forest Of Lights’. The pictures online looked interesting, so I bought tickets and off we went.

It was way better than I’d expected, and seeing the installation (and interacting with it, too) with Angela and Emmy was extra special. The two were giddy as children on the lit stepping-stones that changed color as you walked on them. Before long the two were jumping around the circular area like fleas, changing red lights to blue, purple lights to blue, and so on.

Their enthusiasm was so much fun to watch that it was all I could do to resist sweeping them both into my arms and kissing them both until my lips fell off. We did kiss in the Japanese tea gazebo, lit with red or blue paper lanterns that seemed to simply float in the air. The three of us held each other close, kissing back and forth, expressing our love non-verbally. A number of other people came and went through the area while we were engaged in our activity, but nobody said anything. I wouldn’t have cared if anybody did complain, anyhow.

Following Emmy and Angela, who were holding hands and walking in step, I marveled at the way the field of luminescent tulips on either side of the path lit up their amazing butts, swaying in unison. It was hypnotic in the very best way, and I had a hard time even noticing our surroundings.

Eventually, though, we came to the end of the path and back to the entrance. It had been a truly wonderful experience, magical in the very best way. Emmy and Angela had such infectious enthusiasm, so much simple joy for life, that they could make a beautiful light installation even better.

Back home, Angela and Emmy were still buzzing about the light installation we’d just experienced. They went out on the deck and looked up at the pergola and the eucalyptus trees, discussing ways to bring some of that magic back to our house.

A few minutes later, Angela called out for me to come join them, so I wandered out to the deck to see what it was they wanted.

“Bring some wine, and glasses!” Angela commanded from the hot tub. Both were in and already soaking. They had the tub’s LED lights on some sort of color rotation, shifting through the spectrum as I watched.

Obliging, I went back inside and got a bottle of champagne from the fridge, along with three flutes.

Returning back to the deck, I said, “There’s a fee for this service, you know,” and leaned down for a kiss. I made sure that I only leaned down far enough that Angela had to rise up out of the water to kiss me, her breasts popping up and out of the bubbly froth as she did so.

Of course, I reached down and squeezed her boob for good measure, earning me a squeal of protest.

After getting a kiss from Emmy, I ditched my clothes and joined them in the hot, turbulent water, settling myself in a spot where a jet would hit me right on my lower back.

“This was a really good idea,” I said as I felt myself relax.

Emmy climbed on top of me, straddling my lap, resting her arms on my shoulders.

“Leah,” she said. “I love you more than I can possibly say. I would do anything for you. You have given me a life that I could not possibly have imagined for myself, and for that, I will always be grateful. There is one thing that is missing, though- a child. I want to have a baby. I want your child.”

“We talked about it,” I said. “We agreed that when we settled in our forever home, we’d get started on the process,” I agreed. “We should probably figure out what we want to do for a sperm donor.”

“I have been talking with Lee,” Emmy said, looking very serious. “You know he was studying for his PhD and MD at Stanford, right? Well, he has never fully turned his back on that. He still reads the literature, still stays current.”

“Alright…” I said, wondering where she was going with this.

“He told me of researchers in South Korea who have extracted the genetic material from the egg cell of a mouse and used it to fertilize another egg cell.”

“Mice,” I cautioned, immediately seeing where Emmy was going with this. “Are a whole lot different from people.”

“Only different in scale,” Emmy countered. “Lee said that the paper reported on repeated results from trials over the last two years. He said that it is very possible they have advanced their techniques since those experiments.”

“Lee is Korean- American,” I said, thinking about it. “Would he be willing to reach out to that lab for us?”

“I believe that he brought it up with that idea in mind,” she replied.

“Wait,” Angela said, scooting over next to us. “You mean you could maybe actually have Leah’s baby? Like, she could be the father somehow?”

“Yes, that is it exactly,” Emmy agreed.

“Could- could that work for me, too? Could I have Leah’s baby, too?” She asked, getting excited.

“If the process works for me, it should be even easier for you,” Emmy said, pulling Angela in close. “Should we try to have the babies at the same time, or should we space them out a bit?”

Angela chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “I think it’s something we need to talk about.”

Emmy leaned over and kissed Angela on the top of the head. “We have time,” she said. “We need to convince this lab to try it with human subjects first.”

“Research labs always need funding,” I mused, my mind still agog at the idea of actually having a baby with Emmy. For years I’d assumed that the baby would be the product of some unknown father, but now the prospect of her baby being mine genetically as well as emotionally had me in a whirl.

Angela’s eyes were shining brightly as she looked at me with new possibilities in mind. “I… I want this so bad,” she said, reaching up to kiss me. “I want to feel your baby inside me, Leah.”

“I want you two to have my babies, too. I have an idea,” I said, looking back and forth between the two of them. “How about we give the natural method another try, right now?”

“I would like that,” Emmy said, arching her back to give me a better view of her perfect breasts.

“But what if it goes wrong and we get you pregnant?” Angela asked, smiling.

“It’s a risk I am happy to take,” I said as I pulled Emmy up higher to my hips.