Family Tradition: Next Generation

The things that are supposed to happen in your marriage as you "settle down" never happened to us, partly because we were determined that they wouldn't. We were more in love at our twentieth anniversary than our first; our sex life was just as enthusiastic and much more varied. We both worked hard at our marriage, and tried our best never to be complacent. We were careful to make time for each other, and remember how lucky we were to have each other. We had the occasional spat, of course, but we never went to bed angry. We both had opportunities to be unfaithful, especially Mary, who was hit on a lot, even into her forties. Neither of us even thought seriously about it. Our mutual faithfulness was, and remained, a crucial way we showed our love for each other.

Both our daughters had plenty of admirers, but refused to get serious with anyone for quite a while. "We both want what Mom has with you, and we aren't settling for less," Cassie told me one evening. Which is about as high a compliment as a dad is going to get from his teenage daughter, I think. Finally, though, Cassie fell in love. Mary and I were both impressed with David, and he treated Cassie like a queen. He actually asked me for Cassie's hand. I didn't think that was done any more.

"What does she have to say about the matter?" I asked him. I was teasing him a little; I was sure she would say yes.

"I haven't asked her, sir, but I'm betting money she'll say yes." He pulled a small box out of his pocket and showed me a ring. It wasn't particularly expensive, and I'd certainly seen bigger diamonds, but it was beautifully designed, classy and charming. He had obviously put a lot of thought into what Cassie would like. He got it right, too: it was just her style. I gave him my blessing, he thanked me, and before I could blink he was off somewhere with my daughter. I smiled.

David's parents had been working out of the country, and only came back a month or so before the wedding. We had Bill and Karen over for dinner about a week later along with Cassie and David, and we all hit it off instantly. Bill was my age, ruggedly handsome, down-to-earth and friendly, and a no-nonsense straight talker. Karen was beautiful, about ten years younger, and seemed devoted to Bill. She was his second wife: David's mother had died giving birth to his sister.

We had finished dessert and were talking companionably in the living room, when it happened. For the first time since I'd met her, I saw Mary deliberately check out another man. There was no doubt about it; no possibility for mistake. She took her time, and it was obvious she liked what she saw. The horrible knowledge that I had suppressed for years rushed back into my brain. In three weeks, my Mary would be unfaithful to me with David.

I firmly forced my dinner to stay where it was, at least temporarily. My participation in the conversation became mechanical and forced; I could see Cassie wondered what was wrong. After what seemed like forever, everyone was gone. I held it down long enough to help Mary load the dishwasher, then I bolted for the bathroom, just as I had on that night long ago when she had first told me of that damnable tradition.

Just as she had all those years ago, Mary knelt beside me. The cool washcloth cleaned and caressed my face. This time she didn't bother to ask if I was all right; she knew better.

She cleaned me up, guided me to our bed and made love to me, slow, gentle, and perfect, all her love for me distilled into the act. I wept as I loved her in return. Three weeks, I kept repeating to myself. Three weeks, and another man will enjoy these lips, these arms, these breasts, this love. Mary held me as I cried myself to sleep.

The next night, Mary got right to the point. "Cassie's been engaged for months; what made you finally think of it last night?" she asked. There was no need to identify 'it.'

"I saw you checking out David."

She smiled ruefully. "I guess I wasn't very subtle. I must be out of practice. That's the first time I've done that with anyone but you since we met."

"You liked what you saw." It wasn't a question.

"Yes, I did." She paused. "Henry, I told you long ago that you're the only man I ever met who values fidelity as highly as I do. It's still true, and I'll always love you for it, but I know that will make this so much harder for you. I can only promise you that it will be just one night, and it will be over. After that, I will be completely faithful to you, just as I have been since before we married.

"I love you, Henry." All her love and sincerity and everything I loved about her shone out through her eyes. "I will spend every moment between now and then showing you that you are the only man for me. When I come back to you the next morning, I will start showing you all over again. I could almost bring myself to wish you weren't such a good man, so this wouldn't hurt you so much."

"There's not a chance that..." Mary interrupted before I could finish.

"No, Henry, there is no choice. Don't allow yourself to think there is; it will only make it harder for you. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't refuse to do this. Remember, you knew this would happen when you married me, and you accepted it then. You can't take it back now. Besides, Cassie is looking forward to it, just like I looked forward to your night with Mom."

"So you actually want to do this?"

Mary grew thoughtful. "I don't know. My feelings are pretty mixed up right now. On one hand, I've always hated the idea of being unfaithful to you. Also, I know how this is going to hurt you. You're bleeding inside already; I can feel it when I hold you. I hate that, especially because I know it will get worse before it gets better. On the other hand, there's a part of me that says that because I have to do it anyway, I might as well find something to enjoy about it. To be honest, having something to look forward to helps take my mind off how badly you'll be hurt. So, yes, I have to say there's a part of me that wants to do this."

"What do I have to look forward to?"

Mary's eyes began to fill with tears. Then they brightened, and her sweet smile emerged.

"Tonight," she said. "You have tonight." It was even better than the night before. She filled my heart and my senses; there was no room for any other thought. Finally, sated, she fell asleep. I gazed at her, and my tears fell again.

Yes, I had known when we married that this would happen, and yes, I had agreed to it. I didn't regret wedding Mary, quite the opposite. None of that helped at all. Maybe the fact that we'd had such a wonderful marriage made this harder for me to take. Whatever the reason, I was in agony.

For that matter, Mary was hurting, too. I could see that she hated what this was doing to me; she truly believed she had no choice. What she said about trying to find something to look forward to made sense, as well: it was just a coping mechanism to allow her to do what she believed she had to do. That didn't make it hurt any less.

Mary did everything she could think of to help me accept what was going to happen, except the one thing that would have helped: deciding not to do it. She was even more devoted than usual, and we had sweet, loving sex every night. One night, as we cuddled afterward, I couldn't stop myself from asking:

"What if he's better?"

"Than you? Not a chance," she chuckled, and kissed my nose.

"That's what your mother would have said, too. He'll have the advantage of being young, and new to you. What if you like him better?"

She raised up on one elbow and faced me. "I hadn't really thought about that. I guess maybe I should have, especially since Mom liked you better than Dad." She thought for a moment. "I know Mom told you that sometimes we go back for seconds when the next generation gets married, but I've already decided I won't do that, even if David were to ask me, and I'm quite sure he won't: he's too much like you. You already know I'll never leave you, or cheat on you. It will only be this once; it will never happen again, with him or with anyone else, and I know you know that.

"So I think what you're really worried about is whether he will plant memories in my mind and my heart like you did in Mom's. It's always disturbed you that you did that, and I love you for it, but it's also making this even harder on you. I'm so sorry, Henry." I hadn't thought of it quite that way, but she was right, as usual. She knew me very well.

She wiped tears from her cheek, and faced me directly. "From what Cassie has told me, I do think I'll enjoy it with him, and I hope I will, but I really don't think I'll like him better than you. You set the bar awfully high, you know. As you say, though, he'll be new to me and have a young man's stamina, so I guess I have to admit that it's possible. All I can do is promise you that if it happens, unlike Mom, I'll never tell a soul. Not Cassie or Mom, and certainly not him."

"Would you tell me?"

"Would you want me to, Henry? I wouldn't want to hurt you, but if you ask, I will tell you the truth."

We looked into each other's eyes and wept. As we held each other, three thoughts collided in my brain. How much I loved this woman, how much she loved me, and how badly this could all turn out.

It got worse as the day approached. I couldn't even look forward to my daughter's marrying a good man whom I liked and respected: I couldn't get past what that good man would be doing with my wife the night before. About a week and a half before the wedding, Mary sat me down for a talk.

"Henry, what can I do that I haven't been doing? I've tried everything I can think of, but you're getting more moody and depressed by the day. Even Cassie has noticed it. She's afraid your bad mood will spoil her wedding day, and she's starting to get upset about it. Please, Henry, it's the most special day in her life. Please make it good for her." I didn't see any point in mentioning the one thing that she hadn't tried.

"Does she know why?"

"Of course she does. She knows it's hard for you, and she knows how important fidelity is to you, and she respects that. When it's over, you can say and do anything, take it out on me any way you want, but please let our daughter enjoy her wedding."

Mary reached across the table, took my hand in both of hers, and stroked the top of it. She often did that when I was stressed, and it usually worked wonders. Not today.

"Mary, try to imagine this. Every caress I give you, every kiss, a voice whispers to me, 'someone else will give that to her next Friday night.' Every time you reveal and open your body to me, that voice says, 'another man will see and enjoy this, all of this, next Friday night.' Every time you touch me, I hear 'she'll touch another man like that next Friday night.' It's torturing me, Mary. I don't know if I can make it through this."

I saw the tears spring into her eyes as she bowed her head over my hand and kissed it, her beautiful hair falling around her face. She released my hand, stood, and walked to my side of the table. I turned to face her. She knelt in front of me, not touching me, and spoke quietly, but intensely.

"I love you more than life. I will never say that to any other man. I will never give my heart to another man. Only you. I love you, Henry."

"Do you love me enough to not do this?"

"No, Henry, don't!" She wailed, tears still in her eyes. "Don't think of it like that. It will only hurt you. It's not the same thing, Henry, not the same at all.

"You are the one love of my life. You and I have a bond I'll never have with anyone else. Nothing can change that. My family is different. They are the ones who raised me to be the woman you fell in love with. If it weren't for them, you wouldn't have me, we wouldn't have what we share together.

"What I'll do Friday night I'll do to honor my family, to pay my respects to the traditions that have made me the woman I am. It has nothing to do with my love for you. Maybe it does indirectly, because I wouldn't be able to love you the way I do if it weren't for them. Because of that, I must do this. Can you please not make it hard for me? Can you please honor them with me, just for one night, out of the love I know you have for them and for me?"

Tears ran down both of our faces as we stared at each other. "Must you?" I asked. Wordless, still on her knees, she nodded. As I stood and left the room, she crumpled to the floor, sobbing.

Mary did have a good point about Cassie. I tried to be more cheerful, but the only way I could do that was to avoid contact with Mary. I had given up any hope that she would change her mind, and it hurt to be around her. I could tell it saddened her, and I knew she worried about me, but she was busy enough with wedding preparations to keep her mind off my troubles.

There we were. Our daughter was radiant. She was marrying a fine young man, the love of her life, with a great family, in a week. My wife and I were barely speaking, touching each other only when necessary, and trying to act happy for our daughter. This was the family tradition that led to so many strong marriages? Bah. Humbug, even.

As planned, Cassie moved back into our house Saturday evening. I heard her happily chattering and laughing with Mary, probably about David's prowess in bed. I was wrong, though: it was some long involved story about the caterer, the bridesmaids and French Onion soup, or some such thing. I never got the details, and considered myself well out of it.

Sunday morning, I wasn't surprised to receive a call from a very confused David. I agreed to lunch with him; it seems he had some questions and concerns about a certain family tradition.

I remembered my talk with Joe like it was yesterday. He had taken such pains to assure me that everything would be fine. He had admitted he didn't like the idea of my fucking his wife, but in his view, he had agreed to it when he married her, and would do it for the family: take one for the team, as it were, just as Mary had begged me to. It seemed like no big deal to him: it was just one night, then he moved on. Why couldn't I do that? Why was I having such a terrible time with this?

Mary's voice answered the question for me, even though she wasn't there. "You're the only man I've ever met who values fidelity as much as I do," she had said. "That will make this much harder." She was right. Again.

David and I talked of other things until we had our beer and burgers in front of us.

"So Cassie dropped the bombshell on you, did she?" He nodded.

"What did you do?" he asked. "When Mary told you, I mean. Did you shout at her? Plead with her? Sit there and gape like a stranded fish, like I did last night?"

"I puked." He stared at me for a moment, then we laughed together.

"Yes, Mary had made me a real nice dinner that night, probably to soften me up, and I ran to the bathroom and tossed it all. She helped clean me, then she kissed me on the forehead and left me there hugging the toilet. I didn't see her again until the wedding." I paused and continued.

"David, that was the hardest decision I've ever made in my life. Honestly, it's a decision I don't think any man who values faithfulness in marriage should ever have to make. You need to know that whatever you decide, I will not think any less of you, as a man or as a son-in-law. That's a promise."

"Thank you, sir. That's a huge load off my mind." He paused. "So how in the world did these women come up with this?"

I repeated what Joe had told me about bonding the new member into the family. He said that it might be unorthodox, but it worked; I found myself doubting it. It certainly wasn't working for Mary and me. Still, there was a lot that had worked out very well indeed over the past twenty plus years, and I told David about that, too. As Joe had predicted, our marriage had been better than I ever could have imagined, until the last couple of weeks.

"How long did it take you to decide?" he asked, after considering what I'd said.

"It took almost the whole week. I didn't make the phone call until the morning before the wedding."

"That must have been a hell of a week." I nodded. It was. "What was the biggest thing you had to get past to make your decision?"

I looked my future son-in-law in the eye. "The knowledge that this day, or more precisely, this Friday, would come."

"I'm really sorry about that," he said, clearly embarrassed. "You know, you might have had sons instead." He was trying to make me feel better, bless his heart.

"Yeah, except for two things. One, I loved Cassie from the minute she was born, and I wouldn't wish for her to be any different. I certainly never wished she was a son. I trust you feel the same way." He grinned and turned a little red around the ears. Cassie had picked a good one, I said to myself, and not for the first time.

"The other thing is that the women in this family simply don't have sons. I checked: while I was still trying to decide on this, I traced back five generations. Six, now, counting Mary and her cousins. There's not a single son."

"What finally made you decide to go ahead with it?"

"Even back then, David, Mary and I loved each other very much. I had never imagined loving, or being loved like that." I could read in his eyes he felt the same way about Cassie. "I was sure no one would ever replace Mary in my heart, or me in hers. It was totally weird to think that I would break her heart if I didn't fuck her mother, but it was true. So I did it."

"How did you handle what you knew would happen...?" he stumbled to a halt.

"I repressed it. Very thoroughly. Right up until about two weeks ago."

"What happened then?"

"I saw Mary checking you out."

David slapped his hand lightly on the table. "I knew that's what I saw! I asked Cassie about it and she sort of smiled, and said it was nothing I needed to worry about, after all it was her Mom."

We just looked at each other and shook our heads.

"Cassie has talked a lot about you," he began. "She's told me that you're completely faithful to her mother; it's one of the things she loves about you. That's how I want to be with Cassie, too." He hesitated a moment.

"My parents told me they did some swapping while they were in Europe. It wasn't something they had planned to do, but their hosts sort of set it up for them, and they went along. They still aren't certain how they feel about it, or if they want to do it again. Cassie and I talked about it, and we both agreed that wasn't for us. If we marry, it's just the two of us forever, just like you and Mary, I said. Of course, that was before last night." He paused, gathering his thoughts. I was pretty sure I knew what was coming.

"You married Cassie's mom, so obviously you ... well, did it. Are you sorry?"

"No." I didn't hesitate. "Even now, as torn up as I am about what Mary wants to do Friday night, I'm not sorry. I can't say it was the 'right' decision, because there's too much wrong for that. I'm sorry that decision had to be made, but given the choices before me, I've never regretted choosing to wed Mary, and I don't believe I ever will."

There didn't seem anything more to say after that. We stood. This was a good man with strong morals, who was, obviously, torn in pieces over this. Did these women have any idea what they were doing? I held out my hand to him.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be more help, but I'm here if you need me."

He took my hand. "Actually, this helped me a lot. Thanks for everything, and I will stay in touch."

Mary and Cassie ambushed me the moment I was in the door.

"Is he okay?" Cassie's first concern was about David; she really did love him.

"No." Her face fell. "How could he be? He's trying to come to terms with the bomb you dropped on him last night, before you walked out." My daughter and wife looked distraught.