Although they were not romantically involved with each other, her loves all loved each other in their own way, like one would love a brother or a father. They had their fights, but what family didn't?
Sandy was like a child, in many ways. When all was said and done, he craved the attention only a mother could give. So she held him to her bosom, and sang soft tunes as they made love. She would reward and reassure him of his work, and when all was over, she would stroke his hair until he fell asleep.
He was very nonchalant about the others. He knew it was not that he was not enough. She loved them all, as she loved her babyteeth, and the children. They all did. She and he were similar in the sense they worked every night. Each night, each season and year, they watched the children grow up bit by bit. They saw all the booboos, and the haircuts. They watched, in their own way, the children's lives go by. The others, though they knew the feeling, were not responsible to cradle the dreams and memories that so often children forgot.
She loved him, and he her. And that was how it was.