The girls liked me, based upon their first impression, and they were glad to have me as a neighbour. We finished lunch and left, after I had accepted an invite to dinner later in the week.Arriving home, Marnie’s clan headed up their drive and I entered my house, happy for the Sunday morning company and the undertones of sexual tension between Marnie and myself, with the girls for the most part probably innocently ignorant of my attraction to their mother and to them... how wrong I turned out to be.That afternoon, I sat out on my rear veranda, taking in the summer sun, when the sound of girlie laughter and general happiness wafted over the fence to my ears. I looked over to the fence, then up at the rear of the house. There was no-one at the upstairs windows, so I wandered over the lawn and up to my high fencing. A third of the way along, at my own head height, was a knotty eye in the wood, a small eye which nevertheless allowed me good visibility of next doors rear garden. I peered. I sent it to a law firm specializing in civil union contract law. I'm kind of an old-fashioned guy; I know the term marriage has no legal meaning in the United States and the document we sign will say "civil union" or "domestic partnership" but to me it will still be a marriage. I still had to apply for visas for my lovely brides but didn't think that be a problem; they're citizens of a neutral country. It's not like they're Iranian, Venezuelan or even Chinese, for God's sake. Unfortunately I have to be physically in the States to do it so I'd have to go back for at least a few days.There was a small hiccup with Niamh's divorce. Good old Tom initially decided to contest it saying he had been supporting her for a number of years before the band started making money and he wanted his cut over and above the equal shares. There's an old joke that goes something like this: What do you call the dumbest lawyer in the courtroom? Answer: "Your Honor!"Unfortunately for Mr. Callahan His Honor.
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