Jean’s Wounded Warrior Ch. 03

Jean's Wounded Warrior Project

Chapter 3: Dazed and Confused

I dedicate this story to all the brave men and women in uniform who have served this country.

This story takes place in the late 1960s.

#

After Jean's brief explanation on her return, I remained eager to discuss the disturbing events of that night. I was desperate to reach an understanding with my loving wife, but the timing never seemed right. For nearly a week, she was withdrawn. I let her have time to recover, but one week without talking about it stretched into two, then three. In hindsight, I realize it was a mistake not to get it all out into the open early because not talking about it meant I obsessed about it continuously. I went over every detail of the night that Derek cuckolded me until I thought my head would explode. There is a term in psychology for what I was doing. Storing up your grievances for later is called gunny-sacking. Boy, was my bag full!

What bothered me the most was my wife hiding the truth. She had implied that the first time she met Derek was on the plane flight home. I tried to remember her exact words when she introduced me to Derek, but my memory was dulled by all the wine and weed we did that night. The more I thought about her easy-going relationship with the big black soldier, the more I came to believe she'd known him earlier and known him well.

After all, he had recently recovered from an injury he received in Nam, serving in the same platoon as my wife's brother. It made sense that Jean had met him in the hospital where she had been helping her brother recuperate from his traumatic brain injury. Who knows how she expressed her gratitude to Derek for saving her brother's life. I realized I might be able to put my nagging concerns to bed by talking to my brother-in-law, Robert, who might know what had happened at the Army hospital.

I hadn't seen Jean's brother since he walked his sister down the aisle. He was the obvious choice to give her away since Jean's father had abandoned his family when she was only six. We'd hastily arranged the wedding for the weekend after he finished boot camp since he was scheduled to deploy to Vietnam the following week.

Unfortunately, I barely knew my wife's brother. I had met him once on a double date Jean had arranged with one of her college friends. It was in his senior year at the Cornell College of Engineering. Despite Jean's best intentions, Robert and her friend didn't hit it off. A couple of months later, he was drafted when his student deferment had expired.

Over the next few days, I became obsessed with talking to Robert, but I didn't have the phone number for the hospital. I checked my wife's address book and drew a blank. I knew Jean called her brother weekly and realized she must have his number memorized. I had no alternative except to ask her. I just had to come up with an innocent reason for calling him. I decided to tackle the problem head-on.

"Jean, how's your brother doing?"

Jean sighed. Her expression showed a mixture of concern and relief. Our recent attempts at communication had been limited to trivial matters like, "Please pass the butter." At least, this was a subject we could discuss calmly.

"He's making slow progress. The wounds have healed, but it takes a long time to recover from traumatic brain injuries. Hopefully, therapy will help him cope with the damage."

"I know your mom is with him daily, and you talk to him regularly, but perhaps Robert would like to chat with me. He's a good man. Your brother served his country for two years in Vietnam. He even sacrificed his weekend before deployment to fly across the country for our wedding. After he's discharged, I imagine he'll need someplace to stay until he gets back on his feet. Perhaps, we should offer him a room here."

Jean's face brightened as she listened to my rambling offer to help her brother. I felt a little guilty. I liked my brother-in-law but offering him a place to stay was still a ploy.

"Oh God, Steve, that would be wonderful. He needs all the human interaction he can get. You just need to be aware of his mental condition."

Jean explained that he had suffered damage to his frontal lobe. As a result, his personality and behavior changed. Unfortunately, the injury severely impaired his motivation, judgment, and attention span.

"Robert used to be quiet, but now he'll talk your ear off. I should warn you that you cannot believe half of what he says. The doctor told me my brother has difficulty separating his fantasies from reality. He even claims our mother used to bring strange men home every night and have loud, steamy sex. I know she dated a couple of different men while I was in high school, but I don't remember hearing anything. Anyway, I know he'd love to talk to you, but just treat what he says with a grain of salt."

Jean gave me her brother's schedule. He had therapy in the pool every morning at ten but had a couple of hours free before taking a late lunch. It seemed his mother didn't visit until the afternoon. Once I had Robert's phone number, I just had to wait until Jean went to work the next day. I was nervous the whole morning, waiting until after 2 PM Eastern time when he would be available. The number was for the hospital, and I was quickly transferred to his room.

"Hello Robert, this is Steve, your sister's husband. I called to find out how you're doing."

"Wow, Steve. What a surprise. Jean talked about you all the time while she was here. I appreciate you letting her stay so long."

Robert hadn't mentioned how he was doing, but maybe that was sensitive. Besides, I just wanted to talk about Jean's time at the hospital.

"Glad to let you borrow her. I hope she was a help."

"Oh man, she was fantastic. At first, she was only helping me with my cognitive therapy. I felt terrible she was away from home for so long, but she said, what's the use of having a degree in psychology if you can't use it to help the people you love. Besides, she said she was happy to be working with patients who had a future."

I could understand my wife's feelings. In her job, she worked with depressed end-of-life patients at the hospital, which took a heavy emotional toll on her.

Robert continued, "When the staff learned about her background, they invited her to run a group therapy session. It was so popular she was soon running three every afternoon. Even my platoon buddy, Derek, who had been injured protecting me in the attack, joined the group."

My ears perked up when he said Derek's name. However, I was afraid if I showed too much interest in the black soldier, he might mention it to my wife the next time she called him. I decided to circle back to Derek later.

"Sorry, Rob, but your sister never told me how you got injured."

"It was freaky. I always thought I'd buy the farm on patrol, but we were back at the French rubber plantation we used as our base camp when it happened. It seems we had a Viet Cong sympathizer in camp doing our laundry. The old Vietnamese woman fired an RPG into our barracks, and I took a bunch of shrapnel to my head. I must have lost consciousness. They told me the building had come down on us. I'd be dead now if Derek hadn't covered my body with his. A massive beam came down on his legs that were protecting my battered head. He's a hero. I owe him my life."

It seemed safe enough now to ask about Derek. "How's your hero doing?"

"His legs healed faster than my head, but the attack left his mind messed up. Jean spent a lot of time in the group getting him to talk about the source of his anger. Man, I didn't know squat about Derek except for his skill with his beloved SAW. The big dude was suppressing a lot of rage. He told us that he grew up in the South. His mother was afraid he would join a gang and die young. She sacrificed everything to help him get a football scholarship to college, but he got drafted the summer after high school. She was killed in a botched robbery six months after he was drafted. All he had left were his buddies in the platoon. Since I was the radioman and heavily burdened, he felt responsible for my safety when we were on patrol. Derek thought he'd failed to protect me when I needed it."

"Was Jean able to help your friend?"

"Well, she certainly managed to take his mind off Viet Nam. Maybe, I shouldn't say this, but Derek fell for her hard. He talked about her all the time when she wasn't around. When he was in the group, he couldn't take his eyes off of her. He always complimented her on her appearance. Maybe it was her response to his attention, or perhaps it was the summer weather, but Jean started wearing short shorts and a tight cotton top to the group. Things really heated up when she volunteered to fill in for the water aerobics instructor while he was on leave."

Robert had been talking a blue streak, but he suddenly went silent. I was afraid he'd realized he was betraying his sister's secrets. I was desperate to hear more. Had my wife been fooling around with Derek all summer while I patiently waited for her return?

"Were you and Derek recovered enough to be in her water therapy class?"

"We'd been taking water therapy for a couple of weeks before she took over. It helped my coordination a lot. I was happy she kept the class running. The other patients were also thrilled. It wasn't long before she spent her mornings in the pool leading one class after another."

Again Robert paused. I had to know more and tried to nudge him along.

"Well, I know Jean's two favorite activities are dancing and swimming, but I've never heard her say anything to suggest she was qualified to lead a class in water aerobics. What got everyone so excited to take her class?"

The silence over the long-distance call lasted for an eternity. I thought we'd been disconnected.

"Robert, Robert... Are you there?"

"Yeah, man. I'm here. I just got lost in my head for a moment thinking about Jean. What were we talking about?"

"You said everyone in the class was thrilled to have your sister as the instructor."

"Oh yeah. Are you sure you want to hear this?"

"Robert, my wife was leading a physical therapy class in water aerobics at a US Army hospital. How bad could it be?"

"Yeah, Ok, sure. I'll let you be the judge. She showed up for our first session in a beach wrap, and everyone was stunned for a moment when she dropped her cover garment. Damn, her skimpy, bright-red string bikini was beyond hot. It was made of thin satin material that clung to her like a second skin. If you look in the dictionary for 'camel toe,' you'll find a picture of her in her bikini bottom. The damn thing was ridiculous. It barely covered her snatch. When I first saw her in the bikini, I would have bet that if you pulled her bottom down half an inch, you'd expose the top of her slit.

"The suit top was even more revealing. It consisted of two small triangles that exposed most of my sister's generous breasts. There were acres of jiggly pink breast flesh sticking out on all sides. That swimsuit had us all drooling, and boy did those melons do a little dance as she pranced over to the pool. They bounced around to the lively beat of a song she had playing on the record player."

Robert paused for a moment. I wondered if he was reminiscing about his sister in the skimpy French bikini I'd bought for her.

My brother-in-law finally continued. "I had to admire how my sister ignored all the cheers and catcalls as she turned to use the ladder to enter the pool. I've never seen anything like it. The bottoms were wedged between her sweet cheeks, and the top of her ass crack was exposed. All the guys had a massive tent in their swimsuits for the rest of the class. For the next half hour, she guided us through a series of ever more strenuous exercises. She started by leading us around the shallow end, high stepping like parade horses while her breasts bounced in rhythm with the music. Everyone's favorite activity was jumping jacks. The class stood in chest-high water while Jean led the group from the shallow end. I was sure her gorgeous breast were going to pop out of her top.

"At the end of the class, she swam a couple of quick laps before the next class. Everyone loved watching her adjust that itty bitty little swimsuit after her laps. Oh man, my dick was so hard, it hurt like a motherfucker. I'm sorry, man. I shouldn't talk like that about my sister."

I believed some of what Robert said. I knew the swimsuit he described well since I had given Jean the skimpy suit for her birthday. I'd even observed things about the swimsuit he hadn't mentioned. For one, it wasn't great for swimming. The top would get dragged below her breasts when she attempted to dive into the pool. A couple of strokes later, her top would slip off altogether. Diving also exposed half of her athletic butt and an obscene amount of her pussy. Swimming would cause the bottoms to slip down enough to bare the top of her dark pubic hair. Her hard nipples were evident under the clingy material if it got wet. The swimsuit was designed for sunbathing and nothing more.

I also remembered how much work it took to convince her to wear it to a party at the Cornell graduate housing pool. The male students loved it too much for my wife's peace of mind. She swore never to wear it in public again. I was surprised listening to Robert's story. I could hardly believe my modest wife had worn it in front of a class filled with horny soldiers. Jean had warned me about her brother's disconnect from reality, but how else could you explain his detailed description of the swimsuit?

Robert continued reminiscing about his sister's aerobics class. "That night in the mess hall, the patients only talked about how hot Jean looked in her red bikini. Someone commented that they didn't think it would take much for the swimsuit to fall off. We started a betting pool on who could get Jean to perform a move that would cause her to lose her swimsuit top."

I knew from experience how easy the bet would be to win. "So, Robert, who won."

"Derek won the bet a week later after challenging Jean every morning to a swimming contest. At first, she ignored his proposition, but my sister hates being called chicken. Finally, after being teased repeatedly, she accepted. I knew the race would be close. I'd seen Derek's powerful stroke swimming in the ocean off Danang.

"The guys made bets while Derek explained the rules. They'd dive in and swim one lap freestyle, one lap breaststroke, one lap butterfly and finish with a backstroke. My sister protested about starting with a dive. Instead, she proposed they start by holding on to the pool's edge and kicking off. Derek smirked and said no one except little kids starts a swim match that way. After several catcalls from the class about being a baby, she agreed.

I said, "I don't know about Derek's swimming ability, but Jean was on the high school swim team. I'll bet she kicked his ass."

Robert laughed. "Somehow, I didn't remember to mention that to anyone. Of course, I bet heavily on my sister to win the race. However, Derek easily won his bet on Jean losing her top. A couple of strokes after diving in, her top was floating behind her. I was surprised her bottoms didn't come off as well because she sure was showing off a lot of her gorgeous ass. It wasn't until the backstroke that we knew for sure what damage the dive had done. Half of her pussy was exposed. Her short dark pubic hair was the only thing concealing the top of her slit."

As I listened to my brother-in-law, I got a painful erection and had to adjust my pants. I tried to sound unconcerned.

"Yeah, yeah, Robert, but who won the race?"

"Oh yeah, the race. Jean was behind at the last turn, but Derek missed his kick-off from the wall. My sister gave it everything and made her fastest turn of the race. She shot ahead in the backstroke lap but left her bottoms behind and flashed her bare wet pussy all the way to the finish line. My sister beat him by a stroke. She appeared surprised when he pulled her into his tight embrace and kissed her hard. It seems she hadn't paid attention to the prize details. She'd won a kiss from the loser. To give Derek credit, he didn't grope Jean while kissing her."

By this point, my hand was rubbing my crotch. I was stunned. Even if only half of what Robert was saying was true, it was a side of my ordinarily shy Christian wife I hadn't seen before the night Derek stayed with us.

"Robert, you can't leave the story unfinished with Jean naked and surrounded by a crowd of young horny soldiers. How did she manage to escape her predicament?"

"Honest, Steve, it was all innocent fun, and Jean was a good sport. But damn, my sister was a fantastic sight as they played keep-away with her suit until the next class arrived. The guys held the swimsuit over her head and urged her to jump for it. Man, I haven't seen so much of my sister's hot body since I caught her masturbating."

I nearly choked when I heard Robert's last off-hand statement. My wife had warned me about her brother being unable to tell the difference between his fantasies and reality. Some of what he had told me rang true. I knew she had led group therapy sessions because she had discussed them during our regular phone calls. Of course, she hadn't mentioned the water aerobics or wearing her little red bikini. However, I knew the swimsuit description was spot on. The details about the swimming contest sounded like some of it could be accurate, but they could easily have been Robert's fantasy. However, his claim to have seen her masturbating was too far-fetched. I knew my innocent wife. She would have died of embarrassment. Of course, I wanted details, even if they were a wounded soldier's fantasy about his sister.

"Oh, come on, Rob. There's no way you saw Jean masturbating. I can't think of any way she would ever let that happen. Hell would freeze over first."

I heard Robert take a couple of deep breaths before continuing.

"I shouldn't have mentioned it."

There was silence for a moment.

"Come on, Rob. You've already let the cat out of the bag. I don't believe a word of your claim, but I'll give you a chance to convince me I don't know my wife as well as I think."

Robert took a few deep breaths as if he was unsure where to begin or maybe even if he should tell the story.

"My twin sister went wild her senior year in high school."

"Wait! What do you mean, 'twin sister?' I thought you were a year older. Jean said you graduated high school a year before you."

"Well, my sister got mono from Coleen in the seventh grade, and they both missed a year."

I remembered my wife introducing me to her attractive maid of honor, but I didn't ever get to know Coleen except through stories from my wife, which I suspected she had heavily censored.

"Robert, isn't mono known as the kissing disease?"

My brother-in-law laughed. "As I understand it, they were practicing kissing so they'd know how when they started dating."

I joined in the laughter. "You're right, Robert. It sounds like my wife was wild and crazy."

"Steve, I'm serious. Do you want to hear the story of not?"

"Sorry, man. Of course, I want to hear all about it."

"Ok, then, don't interrupt. I have enough trouble focusing without you jumping in all the time."

"Sorry, Robert, my lips are sealed."

The following is pretty much what Robert told me.

#

Jean's senior year in high school was challenging for our little family. It was especially hard for her and our mother. I should have paid more attention to what was happening. It was my first year at Cornell, and I lived at home to save money. I hadn't needed to work hard in high school, but now I was distracted by tons of challenging homework at Cornell. Maybe if I'd been smarter, I could have prevented what happened. Instead, I became part of the problem.