Happy Wife, Happy Life

I started this story as a BTB for the LW category, but as it developed and formed a life of its own, I decided it belonged more in the Romance category. There is mention of incest, although none is directly shown, as well as cheating/swapping. These themes are not what the story is about, which is whether or not a person can overlook the past and move forward. As mentioned, no BTB or RAAC as that is not the direction the story took. Also, there are absolutely no sexual displays, encounters, or playing around by anyone under the age of 18. I’ve had this story kicked back twice even though I made sure there was no underage sex, so it may seem a bit repetitive at the start while I constantly mention the characters are 18 or older.

One

When I was growing up one of the more common refrains I would hear from my Father or Uncles was “Happy wife, happy life.”

I didn’t pay too much attention to it until I got older, but as I began to gain a better understanding of the world, it seemed that the saying was flawed. I mean, you could apply it to any relationship really. Happy Girlfriend, happy life or happy friend with benefits, happy life; the root point being that you need to keep that other person happy at the cost of you being happy in the short term versus the long term.

So to be happy, you need to be willing to eat a shit sandwich now and then instead of putting your foot down. Well, fuck that, you are just training your significant other to believe that if they raise enough hell, you will back down to avoid making the relationship unhappy. I don’t know about anyone else, but that seems like it would make me fairly unhappy most of the time. Why don’t we ever hear, “Happy husband, happy life?” Is the husband’s happiness any less valid?

Now don’t get me wrong, I’ve felt that an equal relationship with two people willing to be able to look at one another’s viewpoints on a situation is a good thing. Studies show that the saying, which originated from a 1903 poem entitled “The Work and Wages Party, might actually be key to a long term marriage. I don’t recall the researchers or the study, but they found that a man can actually be unhappy in a relationship but still be happy overall if the wife is happy.

I’m not sure I buy into it, but if I did bring up an issue I would expect my woman to tell me how she felt. I wouldn’t expect her to swallow her feelings on the subject just to maintain peace in a relationship. That isn’t an equal relationship, it is one person catering to another person’s whims above their own. Realistically, it sounds kind of like an abusive relationship more than anything else. I would hope my wife gave me the same benefit of a doubt.

I think the biggest problem I had with the anecdote is that my male relatives really bought into it. Their wives rules with an iron fist in a silk glove. If they said jump, my Father and Uncles didn’t ask how high, they were just trying to calculate where to land on the way down.

It was my 18th birthday when I had my first real taste of the velvet fist.

“Sam, dress nice, we are going to a party.” I heard my Mom shouting up the stairs as I was about to put my headphones on so I could get ready to play the new Call of Duty with my friends.

“What party are you talking about, Mom?” I yelled back.

I heard steps coming up the stairwell. Soon my Mother, dressed in a little black dress, stood in my doorway, fiddling with her earrings. It looked like they were going out to one of their parties.

“We are going to go hang out with your Aunts, Uncles, and Cousins. I need you to get ready, you are coming with us.”

I sat up and laid down my headphones, “I would rather not go to any parties with the family, Mom.”

“You are 18 now, and you WILL make an appearance. I don’t want to have this argument with you, so get ready now!”

Reluctantly I began to lay out some more dressy clothes. She took this as an affirmation I was coming, so she wandered back down the steps. I had no intention of making this trip with them, so once she was out of sight, I quietly opened my window and worked my way down the twenty degree roof. Reaching the edge, I decided to take a chance, knowing the gutter wouldn’t hold me if I tried to hang and drop. It was a bad decision.

After a brief sensation of falling, I landed on the concrete walkway by the slimmest of margins, having tried to fall into the lawn. A loud SNAP in my left leg did not bode well for further escape. I tried crawling to the back gate, but they eventually found me. I was in water so hot it turned to steam, as they had to forgo their party and take me to the Austin medical center, where it did turn out that I had a greenstick fracture to my fibula.

“You’ve made your Mother very sad, Sam. She had planned tonight as your coming of age celebration and you ruined it for her,” said my Dad.

“Why is it such a big deal? I am 18 and I didn’t want to go?”

“Well Sam, the party was supposed to be your introduction to our family tradition.”

“What family tradition, Dad?”

He looked very uncomfortable and was at a loss for words. My Mother decided to step in, although she gave him a glare that clearly said this was going to bode ill for him later.

My Mother patted my arm and sat sideways next to me on the hospital bed. “Sam, for many years, as far back as we can research our family history, we have engaged in grand balls. The young men and women who have turned 18 and are therefore legally able to engage in coitus, are introduced into this as a coming of age ritual. The women of the family that are married take the new 18 year old men and train them on how to properly please a woman. The men of the family that are married and have went through this training, take the 18 year old women and do the same. Once you have been through the ritual and until you find your partner for life, you are allowed to join up with the others who are also single and over 18.”

“That sounds utterly disgusting!” I gasped out in shock. “I have a girlfriend who I am committed to and we are saving ourselves for marriage. I have no intention of cheating on Chelsea to take part in this ‘tradition’ you speak of.”

“It isn’t cheating,” my Mother hissed, “it is a family tradition for decades, something you need to begin taking part in. We would be glad if you brought Chelsea, she turned 18 before you and you both could have fun learning a few things about pleasing your partners. If you do plan on marrying her and bringing her into the family, she would be soon training the next generation of family members once they turn 18.”

I had had enough. “I DON’T WANT TO TAKE PART IN YOUR INCESTOUS CHEATING PARTIES!” I screamed loud enough to make both my parents wince and to bring in a nurse.

He said, “I can’t have you disturbing the patient, we need to start prepping his leg for a temporary cast.” I think he scared my Dad, since he was a pretty large black guy, but I didn’t like the look that came into my Mother’s eyes. Either way, he began shooing them out of the room.

Once he came back, he tilted his head a bit and said, “Did I hear you correctly? They wanted to force you into a swing party with your relatives?”

I nodded and pointed at my leg. “Got this trying to jump off the second story roof and make my escape.” He laughed so hard he started tearing up. We ended up feeling like we were friends after he finished the temporary cast. Turns out he preferred to bat for the other side, which I am sure would really piss rain on my Mom’s parade after the way she was looking at him.

They took me home and blistered my ears, mostly my Mom, about how things were going to be henceforth. If I didn’t agree, they weren’t going to pay for my school and I would have to get a full time job to pay rent until I could come to learn the law of the land.

“OK, Mother, I will go along with this, even though I despise it. But you are going to have to wait until my leg heals.”

She beamed and everything was happy again. What I didn’t tell her was I had another plan completely to get me away from this psychotic family.

I kept my nose clean and didn’t raise any arguments. Once I knew my leg was good to go, having pushed hard on rehabbing it, I sent a message to Chelsea telling her we needed to meet at the pizza place and discuss our futures.

“Heya, babe!” I smiled and hugged her. We had been dating for 2 years, but had promised to remain celibate before marriage. Her family was Catholic and I wanted to do the right thing. She was everything I wanted, smart, vivacious, and just your perfect all-American girl.

“Hi Sam, I was hoping you would have something to talk with me about soon,” She gushed.

I held her hands and looked deep into her corn silk blue eyes. “Chelsea, I love you. There is something about my family you don’t know and it is going to make our life very difficult going forward, if you want to stay with me.”

“I love you too, Sam. I am ready to do anything to be with you!”

I hoped she would after she knew what was going to happen. Here goes everything, “Chelsea, my family is involved in a very weird sexual swapping thing. I guess the best way to explain it is that all my relatives get together to train relatives in sex once they turn 18. From there I don’t know what acts they perform other than normal sex, because I have never went to one of these events. I didn’t know about this until my birthday so we need to come up with a plan.”

As I paused to take a breath to continue, she excitedly spoke, “Your mother told me about them as soon as I had my 18th birthday! It sounds so dirty, but exciting! You don’t know this, and it was hard to keep it a secret, but now that we are both eighteen I was supposed to be at the party the night of your birthday. Then you broke your leg and I had to wait. I just want you to know that I wouldn’t leave you and I am totally in!”

I was mute. Words wanted to come out, but I couldn’t get them to leave my larynx, travel to my mouth and respond. After a moment or two, she began to look concerned, so I made an excuse to go to the restroom.

“What the FUCK?” I thought to myself. This was utterly against every single thing I thought she and her family believed in. I suspected her family didn’t know, but she had sat on this secret up until my birthday. I couldn’t let her know I had no intention of becoming a member of this fucked up family “cult” and that I had asked her here to see if she wanted to go away with me. I washed my face and hands, then returned to her at our table.

“Chelsea, I must be coming down with a stomach bug. I kind of puked in the bathroom. I’m going to go home and rest, but here is some money for pizza if you still want it. I’ll feel better soon, I am sure, and we can go to the next party.”

She seemed to be split between being concerned and raring to go to be trained on how to provide the best sex by some random family member of mine. Not to mention the fact that if I did marry her, she would likely also be keen to repeat the process from the other side while I either watched or had to train someone myself. I actually did feel a bit dizzy from revulsion now.

“Sure, Sam, get better soon though, I am SOOO ready for this!”

I managed to let her kiss me on the cheek without having to go projectile vomit for real, then beat a hasty retreat. I jumped into my old beater truck and headed to my next destination, the one I had planned on going to if Chelsea had agreed to leave town with me.

Which just so happened to be the U.S. Army recruiting station a couple of miles down the road.

Two

The Army wasn’t sure they were going to take me, since I had just gotten better from a fractured leg. It took some pleading, telling them why I wanted to leave, and a full checkup from their doctors to get me in. After Basic, they sent me to Commo school. I didn’t have any real preference, I just wanted out of town and a way to earn money for my education. I slept in the barracks, didn’t spend any money on frivolities, and banked my combat pay for the two trips they sent me on to Afghanistan. They wanted me to re-up, but I had accomplished what I needed to do and had a deep purse from my frugal ways.

I thought about returning to Texas to sign up for College on my G.I. Bill, but I wouldn’t be able to go to any large one near Austin, so it was a moot point. I definitely didn’t want to go to a school like TCU, SMU, or Baylor where they had a religious outlook. Houston was too fucking humid and I think you have to have fucked a few farm animals to meet A&M’s requirements for entry. So I went north a few miles and became a Sooner, which I found wasn’t much better than A&M was purported to be. In any case, I settled in and started grinding on my engineering degree. I had met a couple of guys from Raytheon over in the ‘Stan who had told me I could combine my communications experience with the engineering degree and make really good money in the defense industry. Sounded good to me, so that is what I did.

It was my senior year in college and I was 21 now when I first met Andrea, a five foot eight fireball with dishwater blonde hair and eyes that were grey blue like the sky after a storm. She was a couple of years older than me and studying to be a veterinarian. We fit together like two peas in a pod. I knew I had experienced that moment like in The Godfather, the “Colpo di Fulmine”, the moment I saw her for the first time. Then I crashed directly into a pole I hadn’t seen as my head twisted. She noticed and I heard her lovely giggle for the first time.

I managed to get enough sanity back into my poor brain to immediately ask her out.

“How could I not go out with a handsome man who runs into sign posts when he sees me?” She laughed. Taking my phone, she punched in her number and tucked it back into my pocket, casually brushing her hand back across the erection I hadn’t noticed I had. “Give me a call soon, big boy,” she said as she walked away still chuckling.

I must have stood there like a fool for what seemed like hours. I finally headed back to the off campus apartment I was sharing with a couple of other students, dressed up as nicely as I could, and then called her.

“Hi, this is Sam. We met earlier and then I hit a pole. I may have a concussion, but is it too soon to call you about dinner tonight?”

She let loose with another one of those deadly, throaty chuckles and asked me to pick her up at six o’clock. Which put me in a bind since I hadn’t bothered getting a car since I had been in school, just walked or rode the bus.

“Andrea, please don’t think I have no money, but I live close enough to school that I haven’t bothered getting a car. Would it be ok if we walked or rode the bus to dinner?”

“Honey, it isn’t a problem. I am a student too and I don’t have a car either. You just think of someplace close and we will get there however we can.” she said matter of fact.

Our dinner was amazing and we talked until the staff was giving us the hairy eyeball. I walked her back to her dorm and gave her a light good night kiss. I know it was probably static electricity, but there was a big spark when our lips met. I could tell by her eyes she noticed it as well.

Things proceeded at a breakneck pace from there. I decided to get a decent used car and we were together any time we weren’t in class or studying for a big exam. It was our 5th date when she asked if I wouldn’t mind getting us a hotel room so she didn’t have to feel embarrassed about my roommates knowing we were having sex. I immediately drove to the nearest decent hotel, trying not to bang my dick on the steering wheel.

Our clothes were flying as soon as we closed the door. She was slim but not athletic, just curvy enough in all the right places, and so soft. I guessed she had C cup breasts and a cute little landing strip above a very wet pussy. I half walked, half carried her to the bed and laid her down so I could feast on her dripping core. Her clit was already peeking out and she had nice meaty lips, one of my turn ons. I slowly kissed up her thighs, trying not to tickle as she writhed in torment.

“C’mon honey, don’t tease me, I can’t take it!” she whisper-screamed.

I went directly in, licking and pulling her lips in with mine, sucking on them as I slowly inserted one finger, then two, into the tightest, hottest sheath I had ever felt. She began rolling her hips, trying to mash her clit into something to get that extra bit of sensation she needed to take her over the edge. After a few more moments, I showed mercy and let her grind it against my tongue as I lay it flat over the top of her clit.

“Ohh, you’re making me cum, you are making me cum!” she shrieked and then clamped down on my head with her legs. Her pussy nearly broke my fingers as she continued to have wave after wave of orgasmic joy.

“I don’t smoke, but I can see why people used to have a cigarette after that,” she breathed out. “Now get a condom on that cock and put it in me now!”

It was so hard I wasn’t sure the condom would fit, but it did despite my crazy overestimation. I wasn’t porn star size, but I had a good solid seven inches with a decent girth. I knee walked up and slid the tip up and down her sopping wet gash a few times before sliding in. God, she was so tight and I could still feel the burning heat through the latex walls of the condom. It had been a while and I could tell if I wasn’t careful I was going to seem to be a two pump chump.

She pulled me down and began kissing me, ignoring the remnants of her fluids on my face, as I oh so slowly slid fully in and back out. I tried to grind my pubic bone on her clit a little every time I went all the way in, hoping the extra sensation would bring her along as I knew I was not going to last despite my best attempts. Thankfully it worked, because I could tell by her breathing and her walls clenching that she was almost there. Just before I felt my balls tighten up and cum beginning to surge out of my tip, I felt her break through again, pulsing around my dick as I shot blast after blast of semen into the condom.

We fell apart and got our breath back before cuddling on the dry side of the bed. We talked of shoes and ships, of sealing wax, cabbages, and kings before we were rested enough to go again. I had never managed to go more than twice in a night before, but by dawn she had wrung four goes from me. I stopped counting how many times she came by then. I didn’t tell her, but I knew from that moment she had to be my wife, my ever after.

Time passed, as it always does, slipping into the future as Steve Miller sang many years ago. We learned more about one another. She was from Texas as well, the Abilene area, and her family was into ranching. She was very keen on having children, at least two. She said on more than one occasion that family meant everything to her.

Because of this, I hesitated to tell her about my family, but she finally dragged it from me. It almost led to our breaking up. As I finished the sordid tale, she looked at me and asked me, “Why didn’t you talk to Chelsea? She might have seen things your way if she knew you didn’t want to be involved. It seems like you just ran out on her.”

I gaped for a moment. “She WANTED to be part of it. She would have tried to talk me into it and I wanted nothing to do with them or her after that.”

“I’m just saying that it was sort of cold to leave someone you had cared about for years because she seemed interested in swapping. If you had told her that it was a no go issue for you, she might have changed her mind. I’m just worried that if I tell you something now that you might walk out on me and never give me a chance to talk about it with you.” She continued, “I mean, it is to my benefit you left, because I love you and can’t imagine being without you. But I hope you will give me the benefit of the doubt if something ever happens like that.”

For the first time, I felt numb around her. How could she not understand? It wasn’t like Chelsea had said she was sort of interested and how did I feel about it? She wanted to go, would have gone that night if something was happening then.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t understand your viewpoint on this, Andrea. What if I asked to bang your roommate, the cheerleader, while you watched. Would you be OK with that?”

She looked at me with her eyes blazing, “I would cut your nuts off, but only after I talked with you about it!”

I stood up. “I need to leave and think this over. I’m not sure if we actually see eye to eye on some things.”

“SEE! That is what I am talking about. Rather than talk this out, you are going to tuck your tail and RUN AWAY! I love you, you idiot, please don’t do this.”

“I’m sorry Andrea, I think I need some distance from you right now. Goodbye.” I walked to the door with her shouting behind me, not paying attention as I stepped through and closed it behind me.

I drove and drove. After what seemed like hours, I reached Little Sahara State Park. I grabbed a blanket out of the back of my car and spread it out on the dunes. I came here when I was stressed to watch the stars. It’s amazing how clear and bright they are once you’ve left the light pollution of cities and towns. Watching the sky shifting above me, I shivered due to the cold of the desert night. The blanket was large enough for two, as I brought…HER…out here with me now and then, so I pulled the other half over me. The morning sun and warmth on my face brought me awake from my unintentional slumber.

I tried to see Andrea’s viewpoint. I really did. But everything kept bringing me back to my first love’s betrayal. There had been others since, and finally Andrea, but Chelsea still held a little dead, black part of my heart. It took me the better part of seven years to get over what she did in that pizza parlor, showing me her true colors. Now I thought I had found love again, yet she didn’t even seem that bothered by what had happened, her concern laying with the one who betrayed me. I couldn’t do it. The ring I had purchased and planned on giving to Andrea would have to go back to the shop.

Once I got back to town, I went to my apartment to retrieve the ring and return it. The best laid plans of mice and men. As I walked up the steps, I saw Andrea there, distraught and streaked with tears. She had her arms wrapped around herself, wearing one of the long sleeved t-shirts I had left at her dorm room on the one occasion her roommate was gone and we had made out. Rocking back and forth, she came alive when she saw me.

“Sam, please forgive me! I’ll do anything, I don’t want to lose you!”

I helped her up and inside to my room. There we just held one another for a long time, until she seemed recovered enough to talk. “I forgive you Andrea and, God help me, I still love you. You have to know how badly I took your thoughts though.”

“I do, Sam. It wasn’t until after you left and I got over my anger that I realized I had possibly ruined my future with the best man I have ever met. Fuck Chelsea, she can go choke on a bag of dicks. Please, will you just stay with me?”

I felt my doubts fly away like mist in the wind. I didn’t answer her verbally, just slowly pried her arms off me. She started crying loudly, thinking the worst, but there was soon silence as I opened my dresser and removed the small velvet box containing the ring. I knelt and tears began streaming silently from her eyes as she unconsciously began nodding furiously.

“Will you do me the honor of being my Wife, Andrea French?”

“Yes, a million times yes! I love you so much,” she said as she held out her hand.

Three

After we both graduated, we moved to the Dallas area. I had succeeded in getting hired by Raytheon and she was working for an older vet who she suspected would end up selling her his office when he retired. I loved her family. They were a hundred times better than my own and you could just picture them standing hand in hand with the American flag in the sky behind them. We had a few tough moments when they asked if I would be bringing my folks around to meet them, but they accepted that I was very much estranged from them for reasons I felt were necessary.

“It’s not like they are marrying our daughter,” her father, Robert “I answer to just plain Bob” said. I agreed wholeheartedly.

Once we got our feet under us and picked out a house we both liked, we began trying to have children. After multiple attempts over many months, we decided it was time to bring medical science into the quandary we were having. Many tests later, it was determined that, most likely during my time in the military, I had damaged my testicles to the point that they were not going to be providing the necessary swimmers to do the deed. It was very disturbing to us both, but Andrea took it very hard as she had always mentioned she wanted at least a couple of kids.

“We could try a donor or look into adoption, love,” I suggested after the initial shock wore off.

“It wouldn’t be the same, Sam. I wanted your DNA and mine to mix and make our children. Without that, we would be raising something that was only part of me or something that nobody else wanted.” She was weeping bitterly.

I decided not to press the point at that time. I hoped after a few months passed she might feel differently and look at it with new eyes. In retrospect, I should have pushed very hard right then. In my defense, I just didn’t expect how hard it was going to come back and bite me in the ass.

We went on with our daily life, her growing slowly more distant and me unconsciously following the very words my male family members loved to spout. I didn’t want to make her unhappy, so I left the topic alone. Happy wife, happy life, right? It took about a year for the train to start going off the tracks.

“Sam, I have an idea and I want you to hear me out before you get mad.”

I figured this was going to be a doozy. I was right.

“I have been thinking and I want to meet your family,” she said firmly.

I did my best to not explode. I almost cracked a few teeth, I was clamping my jaw so hard. Consequently, it sounded very odd when I asked “Why?”

“I want to see if they would be willing to donate sperm to father our child. I know you hate them, but it would be the only way we could have at least some of your family’s DNA in our children.”

“Is that all you have to say?” I asked.

“Yes, other than some minor details.”

I’m surprised that our neighbors didn’t call 911. I yelled at the top of my lungs, “Not only NO, but FUCK NO! What the hell are you thinking about?”

“I can see you aren’t ready to be reasonable about this, but I want you to think about it. I have to go into work because there is an emergency with Ms. Johnson’s cat. We will talk more once you have calmed down and decided to act like an adult.” She rose, grabbed her purse, and left.

I was too shocked and appalled to do anything else but stand there silent as she made her escape. She had planned this request, I realized, and then skipped out before I could make my thoughts known in more depth. I did a slow burn for hours until she returned home.

“How is Ms. Johnson’s cat, dear?”

“She is fine, it turned out to be only some gastritis. I’m glad you have calmed down some, love.” She reached her arms out for a hug.

I stepped back. “I haven’t. Calmed down, that is. What I have done is considered a number of things. I asked myself if you needed mental help. I asked myself if we needed counseling. I even pondered, exceedingly briefly, giving in to your utterly insane idea.” She opened her mouth, but I held my hand up, “No, I let you finish your ambush, now you let me finish mine. What I decided is that if you bring this up again, I will file for separation. Then we will spend some time apart, deciding what we really want out of our marriage. You have the floor now.”

The air went out of her. She fell bonelessly to the floor and said nothing, her head lolling forward. I ached to go to her, hold her in my arms, and tell her everything was alright. In the end, I couldn’t. I went up the stairs to the guest room, having used the time she was gone to move my belongings into it, and laid down for what turned out to be a very sleepless night. I did hear her try the door knob once, then sobbing and the door to our former bedroom close.

We didn’t speak to one another for a week. It was probably my fault as every time she looked like she was opening her mouth, I crossed my arms and had an angry glare. Childish, I know, but deep inside I was scared to death she would bring it up again and I would have to go through with my threat.

“Sam, I would like it if you moved back into our room,” she finally said. “I won’t mention it again.”

I nodded and began moving my things back into the bedroom. We danced around one another for what seemed like eons, but in reality was most likely a month before any semblance of our loving relationship began to return. Even then we were a bunch of jagged edges that could cut if they came together wrong. After about half a year, her Father took me aside one day while we were visiting the ranch.

“Son, what is going on with you and my daughter? You both seem like two cats sizing each other up for a fight.”

“Bob, I love Andrea with all my heart, but if you want to know what our issue is I am going to have to tell you a story about my family. They were into swapping, as far as I know only with family members or the lovers of family members. I refused to be a part of it and ran away to join the military. Andrea knows about all this and knows I hate them, but she wants a child with some of my DNA. Even if it is second-hand from a family member of mine.”

He looked shocked. “I would have never guessed. I know she wants a large family but did ya’ll talk about adoption or artificial insemination?”

I nodded. “We did talk about it, but she is set on our kids having my family DNA. I am sure she just wants to ask them about donating some for artificial insemination, but that would mean we would have to bring them into our lives. As far as I know, they don’t know if I am even alive, but this would inject them straight into our life. As sick as they are, I can’t be sure about how I am going to respond to that.”

“Sam, I will have her Mother talk to her, see if we can get you two back on an even keel. I agree with you about your family, but women see things differently than we men do. Maybe her Mom can help bring her around.”

I thanked him in the only way men feel comfortable with, a hearty handshake.

Things did improve after that visit. We began making love again, even looking into adoption and other options. It just never came to fruition and life moved on. I brought it up unsuccessfully a couple of times, but finally gave up. Rather than poke the bear, I went back to “Happy wife, happy life.”

A few years passed and I could tell something was wrong. Andrea always seemed depressed and a few times I caught her crying. She wouldn’t tell me why and she refused my suggestions to see a doctor about her depression. It was tearing me apart, watching her slowly fall to pieces. She never mentioned it, but I started to get the feeling she was listening to her biological clock ticking away endlessly.

Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore. I did something I swore I would never do and called my Father, hoping his number hadn’t been changed in the years since we last spoke.

“This is Dave, may I ask who is calling?”

His voice was still the same, bringing me back to the nightmare of my latter childhood. I almost couldn’t speak, but before he hung up, I managed to croak out, “Hey Dad, it’s Sam.”

“SAM! Oh my god son, are you OK, where are you, do you need help?” the words tumbled out of him.

“Dad, I am fine. Please don’t tell Mom I called. I just need to ask you a favor.”

“Sam, your mother had a nervous breakdown after you ran away. Are you sure I can’t tell her? Is there any way we can see you?”

I felt horrible but I knew if I had stayed she would have either corrupted me or made my life a living hell. “Dad, I can’t see her and you know why. I will meet with you. Is there some place specific in Austin where we can meet without the family knowing?”

He was reluctant, but made arrangements for us to meet at a place most of our family wouldn’t be caught dead at, Chuy’s Tex-Mex Restaurant. It was too low class for them, only the most expensive and authentic Mexican places for the elite. Having eaten at both growing up, I could tell them they were missing out. One third the price and almost as good as anywhere else.

I told Andrea a white lie, that I was flying to Austin for business. I could have driven, but 30-45 minutes versus 3-4 hours? No thank you, I’ll have the pretzels and the Sprite, please. If this went well, I think she would be happy to forgive me and if not, I wouldn’t have gotten her hopes up for nothing.

He met me at the airport. I could see he had his latest toy, one of the newer Ferraris, I never was interested enough to keep track of what name they put on them. I was glad I hadn’t brought much luggage, just my old Army duffle bag, as it was not a car made for carrying much other than the two passengers. He kept opening and closing his mouth, wanting to start our conversation and then stopping.

“Dad, we will be at the restaurant soon. Quit trying to imitate a fish.” I tried to laugh.

He took it in stride and we arrived. It wasn’t very busy during the lull between lunch and dinner. We both ordered drinks and I asked for a queso appetizer.

“So I assume from your bag that you joined the military, Sam?”

“Yeah, Dad, after Mom gave me the ultimatum to either get with the family program or suffer, I chose to head out for the greener pastures of the Army.”

“I am so sorry we drove you away, Sam. I wish I would have stood up to her, but she was always the one in charge. It was only after you left and I saw what I had allowed her to do that I realized that I no longer truly loved her.”

“I wish I could believe that, Dad, but I had to shut ya’ll out of my life for my own sanity.” I lowered my voice, “I mean, what family does what ours did? Maybe it was some old money thing, but to force incest and open relationships on family members?”

He looked ashamed. “I never really wanted to be a part of the scene myself, Sam. But your Mother was raised in it and it was her way or the highway. She was the current Matriarch of the family and was set on grooming you to take her place. When we met, I too was ignorant of the history and goings on. When she told me that I would have to follow the family code or we wouldn’t be married, I was still so infatuated that I made a terrible decision.”

“Well, I don’t want to hash over old history, Dad. I came to ask you a favor and if you don’t feel comfortable doing it, I will understand and we will never meet again.”

“Sam, please forgive us and let us be a part of your life again. I’ll do anything if you can do that.”

“I can’t guarantee that, Dad. I’ll think about it, that is the best I can do. I just don’t want to expose my family to your lifestyle.”

Dad was shocked to his core, “You have a wife and kids? My God, Son, please let us at least see our grandchildren!”

I was almost nonplussed but I continued with my request. “Well, that is part of my reason for coming. I am married to the love of my life, but I am sterile. I can’t have children and she wants them to share our DNA, it seems to be the only option she can think about. What I am here to ask of you, is that you donate some of yours to an artificial insemination facility. We will then hope that she can bear children with that sperm. If we do manage to get pregnant and have children, I might be willing to let you see them.”

“Both of us, including your Mother?”

“I will have to think about Mom, but I am offering you, at least, the option of possibly seeing my family and hopefully your grandchildren.”

We chatted a bit more, but he finally did agree to try my idea. I stayed the night in a hotel to further the appearance of my supposed business trip, then boarded a flight back to Dallas. I picked up my car in short term parking and drove home to await my wife.

She came in, tired from work and with lines on her face from the stress of her depression. She looked at me questioningly, as I sat in the darkness.

“Hello, my love, come sit with me.”

She did and I hugged her tightly. “I am sorry, but I lied to you about my trip to Austin.” I could feel her tense up and I kissed her brow.

“Andrea, I spoke to my Father. I asked him to not involve anyone else in the family and after some more discussion, we arrived at an agreement to have him donate sperm.”

She broke down, clinging to me and crying her heart out. I was happy and bitter at myself at the same time, knowing that if I could have bent a little more earlier, she might not have reached this precipice. I let her cry until she fell into a deep, restful sleep. I then picked her up carefully and took her to bed, covering her up and moving the hair out of her eyes.

After seeing and feeling her reaction, I had to fix myself a strong drink downstairs. The grudge and hatred I held towards my family had forced me to be utterly unwilling to discuss anything about my wife’s wishes. I had gone far enough to not only avoid trying the “Happy wife, happy life” methodology espoused by the men of my family, but to actively ignore my own feelings that a loving relationship should be that of equals. I refused to even try to listen to my wife because of that hatred and wasted five years of fully loving one another. I prayed that she could forgive me.

I dozed off on the couch, waking up with a crick in my neck and the smell of bacon in my nose. Musical humming came from the kitchen. As I stretched and made my way there, I could see my Andrea dancing in front of the stove, happy in a fashion I hadn’t seen in many years.

“Forgive me, please, for being so stubborn.”

Startled, she almost dropped the spatula she was turning the eggs with. She turned off the stove and ran to me, spatula still in hand and happy tears in her grey blue eyes.

“There is nothing to forgive, honey. You had a lot of hate in your heart and it was deserved based on what happened to you. I love you so very much for fighting through it and giving us a chance at children.”

The eggs went cold and the kitchen became quite messy before we were through. I am, to this day, still uncertain where the spatula made off to.

My Father was true to his word. He did not tell my Mother and did come to donate to the clinic for the artificial insemination. Andrea did get pregnant, with twins no less, and we chose to count our blessings at two. A boy and a girl, fraternal twins. As a gesture, we named our son Dave, and we named our girl Pauline after her mother’s name. Sadly, my Mother sensed something was going on and tried to force my Dad to tell her, but it seems he had grown a spine once he saw his grandchildren for the first time. It soon led to their divorce and his consequent move to the Dallas area to get away from the rest of our sick family in Austin.

I wish I could say I was able to overcome my anger at my mother, but I wasn’t. I allowed my Father to be part of our lives, but I just couldn’t stand the chance that my Mother wouldn’t try something that would end up destroying my family. I guess it was a combination of being unable to control my Dad and therefore losing him, as well as evidence her detectives found out about our reformed relationship, that led to the final sad chapter in our saga.

I answered a call from an unregistered number and immediately recognized her voice.

“Sam?”

“Hello, Mother.”

“Why did you cut ties with me? I only wanted you to be a part of our great tradition. Now my investigators tell me you are not only alive, but married with two children. My grandchildren, Sam. Will you please let me see both you and them again?”