“Knowledge.”

The last piece was again carved from marble, this time a delicate rose-pink. The man, much older now, lay between the thighs of the same woman, who had also aged. Her breasts were not quite as firm, her waist the tiniest bit thicker. His head was buried in her groin, and he was obviously performing oral sex on her. A cunningly crafted turn of his hips allowed them to see he was quite aroused. "Wisdom," Joshua said.

“Our subject learns that true happiness comes not from his own gratification or pleasure, but by pleasing his beloved."

“They're you, aren't they?" Sarah asked, her voice Low. "You and Mom."

He nodded.

“Yes, they are. The first two are based on pictures your grandparents took of me when I was a kid. The last three are from memory, more or Less."

Sarah's hand raised, as if to touch the softly glowing stone, then fell back. "Are these for a show?" she asked. "Or are you going to sell them?"

“They're for a show next month," he confirmed. "And I might sell them, if the price is right. I would like to do it as a set, though. I'm still not happy about that second piece," he groused.

“I wanted it to be a full-length portrait, but my agent convinced me if I did it that way, I stood a good chance of being hauled up on a child pornography charge.

"I'd beat it, of course," he said.

“Artists still have some legal protections in this country. But I don't need the bad publicity.”

“But Dad, you can't sell them!" Sarah protested.

“They're wonderful.

Especially the Last two. You should put them in the house, not sell them to some rich old fart who would never appreciate them.

“The foyer!" she said excitedly. "Where we come into the house. You should display them there." She slipped an arm around him, hugging him tight.

“You could put up a plinth for the baby, hang the portrait, build a shelf for golden boy here," she said, gesturing to the teenager, “and have a pair of display stands for the two where you and

Mom are screwing. All at eye Level, like a museum, so when someone comes in these are the first things they see. To show how much you care for her."

Josh thought about it. Would Rachel be complimented? Or angry? He suspected the latter.

“I'll think about it," he said noncommittally.

Suddenly Sarah giggled. He glanced at her, disturbed by the wicked gleam in her eyes. She had the same look when she told her grandmother she thought Nixon was a good president. I thought she was going to have a heart attack. Took us half an hour to convince Mom it was a joke. "But I gotta say, Dad, I think a little bit less of you. What happened to truth in art? Did you have to make yourself so...big?"