Dying Wish

Author's Note: There's not that much of what you'd call "action," in this chapter, and I know that's not everyone's cup of tea. I have some ideas of where to take the story next, but feedback and suggestions are also welcome.

As always, all sexual situations only involve characters 18 and older.

I should probably talk a little bit about my dad, Bryan, to start. He's always been the smart, go-getting type, and in his early 20's was already the owner of a small but burgeoning business. By the time he was thirty, that business was starting to really kick things into high gear, being worth about a million dollars. That's when he met his wife, my mom, Paula. She was only eighteen at the time, and as she puts it, "was completely swept off her feet," by Dad. That's not surprising to me, since Dad was not only handsome and charming, but also the type that wouldn't stop whenever he wanted something.

It was practically love at first sight when he met Mom, and within a year afterwards he not only had her as his wife but me as his first born. I know they tried to have more children, but then Mom had a couple of miscarriages and after that they gave up on the idea. It's always been painful topic for both of them, especially her, so I don't bring it up often, but to the best of my understanding, that's what happened.

Life was tough but good from then on for them. Dad kept putting in long hours at work, but his business continued to thrive and grow. Mom stayed at home, putting most of her efforts into raising me, but developed other hobbies too like art and photography. They always managed to make time for each other, and despite the hectic lifestyles you could always tell that they were still very much in love and hadn't drifted apart as could have easily happened with another couple.

My relationship with my parents was a little more complicated. Dad had been, for all intents and purposes, absent for much of my childhood, leaving me mostly with Mom, and she and I developed a tight bond with one another. Tight, but still notably awkward at times. Mom was often very reserved, even with me or Dad; it almost came across as shyness, although that's not really the best word to describe it. She could be even worse with strangers. Mom just like to keep to herself a lot, and even when you talked to her you always got the impression that she had some secret beneath the surface that she wasn't telling you. It added an air of mystery to her, but could also come across as being distant or aloof.

If you're thinking that her secret might be an affair, I can assure you that wasn't case. Her devotion to Dad was unparalleled, although I don't doubt a gorgeous woman like Mom had plenty of opportunities to test that over the years. I have no hesitation calling her "gorgeous," either; one look at her crystal blue eyes framed by that angelic face would be enough to captivate most men. Her body type was more petite than anything, but extremely well proportioned, with curves that could turn heads anywhere, especially if she wore anything that accentuated her shapely hips.

I still remember going out with Mom as a kid, grocery shopping or whatever, and all of the salesmen that would approach her, ignoring the small child standing next to her and the glistening diamond wedding band on her finger. I say "salesmen," because that's what Mom told me they were; it was only years later that I was able to piece together that they were really strangers trying to pick her up. No matter though; Mom always rebuffed their advances quickly but discretely, with the class and charm which makes me truly realize how lucky Dad was to have married her. She's forty-two now, but other than the odd wrinkle that has managed to creep into her face, is just as beautiful as ever, and she takes care of her body well enough that any "maturity" it's developed over the years is mostly an improvement. And so it wasn't a big deal to Dad if Mom's new tennis instructor at the club was flirty and handsome, or if her riding instructor's eyes liked to linger a little too long at the tight equestrian pants she wore to his lessons; he never worried about what Mom might be up to behind his back, and he never had to.

Years passed, and I graduated college with a business degree. Wanting to strike out in the world for myself, I moved out and got a small but nice bachelor's pad and then hit the job market. Things didn't go nearly as well on that front as I had hoped, which is probably not that surprising considering I was a new graduate with no experience, so after a bit of cajoling from Dad, I came to work for him. I asked not to be coddled or get special treatment, and Dad was more than happy to oblige, letting me work my way up the company. After a year of two of this, I began to work with Dad directly, and even if he didn't say it I could tell he was training me to take over when he finally decided he'd had enough. That was fine by me; I felt as if I earned it with the hard work I'd put in even if that wasn't entirely true.

Working with Dad had also done wonders for our personal relationship. It gave us one more thing to connect over, and I think I might have spent more time with him in the three years since joining his company than in all of the rest of my years combined. We were closer than ever and everything seemed perfect, until that fateful day that turned everything upside down for the three of us.

I'll never forget the day when Dad told me he had a rare, obscure illness and the doctors were only giving him about six months left. Those feelings of shock, horror, and sadness were more than anything I could ever express in words. I'm not the outwardly emotional type, generally speaking, but everything was different that day with Dad and Mom with all of us hugging and crying. Over the next few weeks, I spent more and more time at the house with them, until finally deciding to move back home to help out the both of them wherever I could. I also took a paid hiatus from work -- being the owner's son has its privileges -- although I still checked in from time to time, as Dad did even though he also took a leave of absence, presumably for good. When the news had come, I was also put in charge of Dad's finances and other personal dealings, so that meant being in regular contact with Dad's lawyer, accountants, and so forth. As overwhelming as any of this was, however, none of it prepared me for what was about to come next.

It was a hot, sunny afternoon and I was in my old room, trying to do a little work from home on my computer when Dad came in to see me. I was a bit surprised by the intrusion, as I knew Mom was planning on lying out by the pool as she often did when it was nice outside and that Dad would always accompany her. It was nice to see them together like that, and so I would gladly find something to do as to give them their alone time.

"James, we need to talk," Dad said. Even to the degree that the illness had already managed to weaken him, Dad could still mean business when he spoke with such conviction, and so I immediately put away what I was working on. Dad went over and took a seat on the end of my bed while I faced stayed in my office chair, facing him.

"What is it, Dad?" The look on his face looked distressed, and I could feel myself starting to get worried.

"It's your mother," he began uneasily. "We've had a lot to talk about since the news came, and frankly... I'm very worried about how she'll be after I'm gone."

"She'll be okay, Dad," I said reassuringly. "It's going to take time for her, you have to expect that, but she'll be okay."

"What I don't need is your horseshit platitudes, son. Besides, I know Paula a lot better than you do. She won't be fine, not by a long shot. She's not one of those people who can live in solitude. She needs companionship, someone to take care of and take care of her, a man in her life. I've tried talking to her about it, and she knows I'm right, but still swears she doesn't want to be with anyone else. It's not fair, James. And she's only forty - two..."

"Well," I answered, trying to be as delicate as I could, "like they say, time heals all wounds and, platitude or not, it's true. Maybe she says that now, and I'm sure she means it, but there's a natural grieving process to losing a loved one too. And, after all that, Mom might choose to start seeing other people, or she may not. Either way, that's her decision. You can't force her to do anything."

"It's not about force, son, it's about knowing what's best for my wife after I'm gone. She's always been faithful to me, even when a lot of other women might not have been, and that's not going to be easy for her to move on even though that contract is supposed to be over after death. Besides, as much as I love your mother... she has her faults too, including being easily manipulated. Even if she does decide to move on and find someone else, I don't trust her in finding a good husband. She'd probably end up with some guy who'd leave her heartbroken right after swindling away all of our money. I'd feel a lot better if I got to play a role in the whole thing."

"Are you saying that you want to find someone for Mom now, while you're still with us?" I asked in disbelief. "That seems so wrong Dad, and besides, there's no chance she would ever agree to such a thing."

"Wrong or not son, it would greatly put my mind at ease. Look, I'm letting you to handle my personal affairs before I go, because I trust you and because I don't need or want that stress in my life right now, but this situation with your mother is too much for me to ignore. I won't rest easy until I know for certain that she's going to be well taken care of after I'm gone."

"She's not a child, Dad. Mom can take perfect care of herself if need be. Hell, she basically ran our household when I was a kid and you were out conquering the business world."

"Yes, and its reasons like that that make me realize how lucky I was to find a wife like Paula. I don't doubt she had plenty of temptations to cheat on me during those years I was more gone than here either but never gave in to them. The thing is James, your mother is a woman of strong passions James, even if outwardly she is mostly shy about it. She has ample needs... womanly needs... love and companionship... passion... and sex. They've always been of great importance to her. I tried my best to be that for her over the years, but it's getting harder for me now. And when I'm gone things are going to get that much worse. I can't shake the idea of some smooth talking huckster coming in trying to rip off a mourning widow and succeeding with Paula. I can't allow that to happen to her, James. We can't."

It was odd to hear Dad say that considering him and Mom had been practically inseparable since we learned the bad news; if anything their companionship levels were higher now than ever. Was he really talking about their sex life then? Mom never spoke to me about sex while I was growing up, and for a while I believed she was awkward herself about it, or maybe had a low sex drive... that sort of thing, but as I got older I slowly learned that, in fact, the exact opposite was true. She did her best, along with Dad, to keep that part of their relationship discreet, but with us all living in the same house... once I learned what sex was it was pretty hard for me not to know they were doing it as often as they were. Still, I was glad that their bedroom was far enough away from mine so I wouldn't have to listen to it even when I knew it was happening.

I had assumed years ago, that this was all Dad's doing; he had such a voracious appetite for life that it would only be fitting that his sexual needs would be the same, but little discoveries I made here and there eventually revealed that Mom was the one pushing their sex life to such higher limits. It said a lot about Dad that he could put in such long hours at work and still find the time and energy to keep a woman like that satisfied, but he'd managed to do so year after year. And now? The last thing I was thinking about since Dad became ill was how it was impacting his sex life. His energy levels had dropped off so much, so fast these last couple of months that it wouldn't surprise me if they'd stopped having sex altogether. It then suddenly occurred to me how much more restless, even irritable Mom had become in the last few weeks or so. I had naturally assumed it was because of what she was going through emotionally right now, but maybe there was more going on there as well. Was she really pissed off at not being able to get her rocks off these days? No, Mom would never be anything callous or insensitive like that, but if what Dad was trying to subtly say about her "ample needs" was true then it would make sense that she'd be feeling more than a little sexually frustrated.

"I still don't know what you want me to do," I asked, feeling disbelief that we were even having this conversation. "This sounds like something you and Mom need to work out by yourselves."

"Believe me, son, I've tried, enough that Paula has long grown sick and tired of the subject. I won't let it go though, not until I'm satisfied with the solution. I found a couple of men that I think would be really good for Paula, make good husbands for her after I'm gone, but she won't hear of it. She's adamant about not wanting to remarry, but I know her too well. She's not the type to stay alone forever, and once again I don't trust her to find the right man on her own."

"Well, you might have to, Dad. I mean, in the end, it's really up to her to decide what she wants to do," I said in resignation.

"Son, I know this isn't going to be easy, but I need you to be strong for what I have to tell you now," Dad said.

"Of course, Dad. Anything for you."

"That a boy. You've made me so proud all these years, and even more so these last few months. I know you'll be able to take over the business when I'm gone. Well, I need you to be the same here too. Whatever happens with Paula, I need you to be the man of the house as well."

The more I thought about what Dad was saying, the more I understood. Mom could be a little naive sometimes; add that to the emotional trauma of being a new widow and I could easily imagine some con man coming into to take advantage of her. Nevertheless, I wasn't sure there was anything we could do about it.

"James..." Dad began slowly, as if every word from now was going to be an effort from now. It wasn't fatigue or his illness talking either; he was genuinely distressed.

"What is it, Dad?" I asked nervously.

"I've talked to your mother at length about this subject, trying to find someone suitable for her, only to have her flat out reject every suggestion. But in all that digging, well, I managed to get her to admit that there is someone she's been interested in being with for some time now."

"Wow," I said, genuinely shocked.

"Exactly, you know how much that goes against her nature, as she's never been the type to let her eyes wander. Admitting something like that, even to herself would be difficult enough. Admitting it to me... well, I doubt that would have happened at all if I hadn't been hounding her on the subject, and with me being in the condition that I'm in."

"I can't even imagine Mom telling you something like that. Even with you being understanding as I'm sure you were, the guilt she would have felt must have enormous."

"She was in tears, son, telling me how terrible she felt. I did my best to console her, and tell her that all things considered, I was glad. She more than had my blessing on pursuing such a relationship if he met my standards, but I needed to know who it was. I wouldn't be at peace in these final days unless I knew she was going to be with someone I could trust."

"James, you know how hard this was for your mother to talk about, so you can appreciate how hard it is for me," Dad continued.

"Of course, I understand," I said. "But no one will ever replace you in her heart, Dad. You just have to think of it in terms of trying to make the best out of a no-win scenario."

"I know all that son; that's not why this is difficult for me. It's difficult because she told me this other man... she told me this other man was you."

"What?" I asked incredulously. "Come on Dad, this is some kind of joke, and a pretty sick one at that!"

"Not even Paula would make a joke like that, son. I assure you, it's true. If anything, she was ashamed to have to admit to such feelings. She's kept it a secret for years, even from me, and it was eating her up inside."

"Years, this has been going on for years?" I asked, even more astonished than before. "I never saw any hint of this."

"She obviously couldn't tell you, or let on in any way, and even now she's too embarrassed to openly talk about it. I doubt she ever would have told me if I hadn't gotten it out of her, but I'm glad I did."

"You must have been upset... mortified," I said.

"All that and more, James. I'll be honest with you, as much as I love your mom, news like this a few years ago might have been enough to end our marriage, but I'm in a different place in my life now. I haven't got much time left, and all I really want is to see you and your mother taken care of before I go. Once the shock of hearing it settled down and the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I could be at peace with it."

"Dad, are you serious?" I asked, almost sounding hysterical now. "It's so wrong, how could you even suggest such a thing?"

"Calm down, son. Here's what I do know: as much as I'd like to find someone for Paula to be with after I'm gone, I could never completely trust any of those other men, even the ones I had suggested to her, but I know I can always rely on you. I've already trusted you with my money, my home, and my business. It may not be what I envisioned for either of you, but if push came to shove I'd sure as hell trust you with my wife ahead of anyone else I could find. And so I told Paula that if it's what she really wants, then she... both of you, have my blessing."

"What she wants?" I huffed back, "what about what I want?"

"Please, try and settle down, son. Of course I care about what you want, that's why I'm talking to you now. I want you to try and think clearly, James, and consider the possibilities."

"Consider? I don't' think there's much to consider with something like this, Dad."

"Are you sure about that, James? Let me put it to you this way, you're young, handsome, wealthy, with a whole life still ahead of you, but I've seen the way you are with the ladies. Your taste in partners is even worse than I fear Paula's would be after I'm gone."

"I know I've made mistakes in my personal life, but that doesn't mean I haven't grown from them. Do really expect me to get as lucky so quickly the way you did with Mom?"

"No, I don't son, and that only brings me back to my point. Look, if you want to keep searching for the right girl, I don't blame you. But I also want you to know that you'll probably never find anyone half as good as Paula. She's been everything I could have asked for, the perfect friend, companion, wife, lover, and I don't doubt for a second that she'd be the same for you."

"Dad, do I have to spell it out for you? It's called incest."

"I don't care what you fucking call it," Dad fired back, sounding as if he were about to lose his patience. I was taken aback, as although I'd seen Dad get angry plenty of times he usually maintained a calm reservation about him, and rarely if ever cursed.

"Look son," Dad continued, sounding more like himself again, "I'm just saying that if I were in your shoes and a woman like Paula caught my eye, I wouldn't hesitate to go for it. Even the age difference wouldn't deter me, considering that she's still prettier than most women half her age."