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One reason I’ve told this story is because it’s instructive in articulating the point that we often make life harder than it needs to be.
Case in point: When Cassie finally did confront her parents and confess that she’d fallen in love with her cousin, her mother’s response was, “Well, you always did have a terrible crush on him. I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised.”
“I did not!” said Cassie, who made life harder on herself than it needed to be by saying what she thought she should say.
“Oh pshaw,” said her mother. “You were gaga for that boy before you grew breasts. We all knew it. It was obvious.”
“It was?” Now Cassie had no idea what to say.
“Come here,” said her mother, opening her arms. Cassie went and was enveloped in her mother’s arms. “It will be fine. There are some who will grumble, but they’ll come around. May I assume he feels the same way?”
Cassie nodded. She was trying not to cry.
“Well, you two be happy, then,” said June.
In my case, the discussion I had with my parents was a little different. Tom Austin learned about who his daughter wanted to marry from his wife, who set the agenda, in terms of his acquiescence to the plan. When I talked to my parents, they were both there. Lori wanted to be, but I told her no.
“Is that even legal?” asked my mother.
“Yes,” I said, firmly. “Second cousin marriage is not a problem, legally.”
“What do her parents say?” asked my father.
“They’re all for it,” I said.
“So you’ve told them,” said my mother.
“Cassie did,” I said.
“And when was this?” I heard stress in my mother’s voice.
I had to think, but didn’t want to take the time to add up days to be exact.
“A week or so ago,” I estimated.
“June didn’t call me.” Now there was clear danger in my mom’s voice.
I hadn’t thought of that. I punted.
“We asked her not to. I felt like I should be the one to break the news,” I said.
“He’s right,” said Dad. “This should have come from him, not them.”
My mother wasn’t happy, but it had nothing to do with who I wanted to marry. She was just pissed off because June didn’t warn her. They got over that. I called June and told her what happened and she said, “Of course she feels that way. Don’t worry. You lied and I’ll swear to it.”
So it all worked out just fine. Cassie and I got married six months before she graduated. She was at the top of her class and got three job offers, one of which was at the KU Medical Center, where she’d been trained. So we didn’t have to move, which was great.
Meanwhile, Lori and Rashid spent a lot of time together. She didn’t tell me a lot about what they did, I suspect because she didn’t want me to be jealous, but he was a relatively frequent visitor to the house these days and there was no strain. He said he respected me for “stepping up to take care of my sister”. He had an accent, but was very Americanized.
I didn’t have time to worry about Rashid anyway. It was pretty clear Lori wasn’t sleeping with him, primarily because she still slept with me quite a bit. The marriage hadn’t changed that dynamic at all. Nonetheless, I still had my hands full with learning how to be married to Cassie.
Lori got to term and had a beautiful baby boy, eight pounds on the dot. Our mother was there with her during her labor and in the delivery room, since there was no father to support her. Mom knew about Rashid by then, but had been told he wasn’t the father. She concealed her surprise when Rashid showed up to wait with Cassie and me while Lori was in labor. We dozed and drank coffee in the waiting room.
Lori had already chosen Bradley as the first name (we knew it was a boy). That was our grandfather’s name on Mom’s side of the family. She couldn’t decide on a middle name and it was our mother who actually suggested that it be Robert. We should have paid more attention to that than we did. Lori was lying in bed, having nursed Bradley for the first time. She was drowsy and Grandma had just changed his diaper and was holding him, rocking him gently.
“You should make his middle name Robert,” she said, suddenly.
“That’s Bobby’s name,” said Lori. “You think I should name him after my brother?”
“It’s a good name,” said Mom. “It’s also a family name.”
“I don’t know,” said Lori, trying to sound reluctant. She actually liked the idea, but it was too close to home, in a sense.
“Well, they need to know so they can do the birth certificate,” said Mom. “If you want something else that’s fine, but make up your mind.”
We should have heard the strain in her voice, but we were all tired.
And so it was that my first son, Bradley Robert Victor, came into the world, where three of the Victor women were waiting eagerly to receive him and hold him in their arms. Rashid held him, too, grinning like an idiot. He scored major points with both mothers when he did that, I think.
If you’ve ever watched a woman pick up an infant who isn’t her own, I’m sure you’ve seen what happens. The woman melts. If a man could figure out a way to be able to crawl up under her skirt at that precise instant, and get his dick in her, I’m positive she’d spread her legs and encourage him to get on with it. Holding a baby makes women want to have one of their own. At least a lot of women.
It made Cassie want to have one, I’ll tell you that. Boy, howdy, when we got home it was interesting. She wasn’t tired from trying to doze on uncomfortable hospital furniture. She wasn’t hungry. What she was, was horny as hell. All she wanted was my penis in her vagina and my body holding her down on the bed as that penis ravaged her defenseless pussy. I’ve seen her passionate before and since, but never like in those initial three or four hours after she first held Bradley.
She lunged up at me so hard she almost dislodged me and then, a second later she was sobbing about how much she loved me and just holding on tight as I continued to thrust and jab. The strange part was that holding Bradley myself didn’t create the same feelings in me. I loved him and I was in awe at his tiny, pink perfection, but it didn’t make me want to impregnate Cassie. I recognized what she was feeling, though, and that made me want to satisfy her as much as I possibly could. And when she whispered that she wanted my baby too, that was what made me jet into her as thoroughly as I possibly could.
That lovemaking session was loud and rough, but it was also quick. Then she was hungry and tired. We were in the kitchen when Mom came in the front door. She was tired too, but gratefully took a sandwich and snarfed it down.
“She’s resting,” she said between bites. “Everything is fine.”
Half an hour later all three of us had crashed.
Mom stayed for a week. I expected that to be stressful, but it wasn’t. She spent her time loving up Bradley, rather than commenting on the cleanliness of the house and things like that. Lori was actually in good shape after giving birth to a baby, and both she and Mom took him out in the stroller for walks. I don’t know what they talked about, but both were in a good mood the whole week.
Lori breast fed and loved it. The look on her face as he greedily sucked milk from her nipples was the picture of serenity. I envied him a little, but of course with Mom there I couldn’t suggest I’d like a little taste, too. Our relationship, meaning that formed by Cassie, Lori, and myself was so ingrained that, when Brad was hungry, Lori wasn’t modest when she fed him. The first time that happened Mom put a baby blanket over her shoulder, covering things up, but said nothing about it. Lori looked startled and then said, “Thanks.” After that she used the blanket about half the time and by the end of the week, if she didn’t, Mom did nothing about it.
I found out why when our mother was getting ready to go back home. I’d already loaded her luggage in the car and she was just finishing up re-diapering Brad. He was lying on a baby blanket and she just folded it over him before she picked him up. I knew Lori was taking a shower, having said her goodbyes already. Cassie was at work. She kissed Brad and turned to face me.
Valentina
- 06.01.2023
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