The Humper Game Pt. 07 Ch. 12

Author's note:

This is, in all its seven parts and their many chapters, one very, very long story. If long stories bother you, I suggest you read something else.

No part of this story is written so as to stand on its own. I strongly suggest that you start with the beginning of Part 1 and read sequentially—giving up at any point you choose, of course.

All sexual activity portrayed anywhere in this story involves only people at least eighteen years old.

This entire story is posted only on literotica.com. Any other public posting without my permission in writing is a violation of my copyright.

We had been out for the day—one Saturday a couple of years after Sam's wedding—at a picnic for my coworkers, and we were driving home. Avi and Bella were overstimulated and a little hard to control, but coming around. Peter had fallen asleep in his car seat pretty much the moment the car had started moving.

Our route took us quite close to Aunt Betty's and Uncle Jim's house, and we decided to stop by—we weren't in any particular hurry. We didn't bother calling ahead. If they were gone or busy, we would just go on home.

They welcomed us, greeting the kids and exclaiming about how they had grown—the older two, anyway. It developed that they were sitting their own grandkids—one set. Two of the kids spanned Avi's age, and the third was a couple of years older but not averse to doing things with the younger ones, so Avi and Bella went off with them to another room to play noisily. Aunt Betty, of course, tried to ply us with dessert we had no room for. We offered instead to let her keep the leftovers we were taking home from the picnic—more food than we had taken there!—and she actually accepted some. But we sat and talked.

In response to something or other, I decided to ask something I'd wondered about for a very long time. "Aunt Betty, I know this is something I really should ask Mom or Dad, but—well, I'm pretty sure it was all long before Mom was on the scene. Years ago, I'd have been afraid to ask Dad. Now, he's worked so hard to change that I hate to bring it up with him.

"I basically know how Granddad and Grandmom raised you all, because they raised me so much. What happened with Dad?" I could see she knew what I meant.

"Phil, it was when our grandmother died. Mom's mother. She was sick and in pain for a long time, and it was hard on all of us. But Bob became so sure that if he just prayed hard enough, God would heal her. He quoted all those places in scripture, really clung to them. And when she died, it was like it was a test, and God didn't measure up. He turned completely bitter and cynical, seemingly overnight. And of course that didn't make it easier for the rest of us. Dad and Mom were patient, too, but it really hurt them. We all missed Gram, a lot."

No one said anything for a minute or two. Finally, I said, "Thank you. I've wondered, for as long as I can remember, and just knowing really helps."

After another longish pause, Aunt Betty said, "I think I need to tell you something else. By rights, Bob and Julie should, but obviously they haven't. You would have said something—I know you.

"Dad and Mom left us some investments. They're in a trust. Part of the income is reinvested, and part is divided equally among us. A bank manages it all.

"Well, twice now, one of the companies has had problems enough that the trustees felt they should sell it and buy something else, but they wanted our input and approval. The first time, your dad was out of the country, and it seems he told them if the rest of us all agreed, he'd go along—and we did. That one was years ago now.

"The second time was a few months ago, most of a year now. And from what Julie says, I gather Bob's away a lot less now." Ellen and I nodded. The organization had finally hired someone to start learning from him and taking over a lot of his foreign work. He was a long way from really retiring, but his whole job was less demanding, in terms of time at least, and for sure in terms of travel.

"So he and Julie came to the meeting, and Bob was very civil and reasonable. No one tried to go beyond being open and polite, and we only talked about the matter at hand. The proposal seemed reasonable, and we all asked questions and all agreed. But a few years ago, I can't imagine that much happening! And I need to say, Bob wasn't the only one to blame in the past, not at all. I think this all comes from whatever you and your mom said to him, before you got married, but it's a big answer to prayer."

I found myself with nothing to say to that. I wasn't falling apart—that didn't happen the same way any more, mostly—but I still closed up a little. Ellen looked at me, and then said something about that to Aunt Betty and Uncle Jim.

Aunt Betty went on. "In fact, the rest of us—and our families—all normally get together three or four times a year, and we've discussed inviting Bob and Julie when we have a barbecue, in a couple of months. That would include you. I need to run it by Julie, soon."

Ellen said, after a moment, "We'd love to be there, if we can manage the time. But I think we'd better not unless Dad and Mom agree to go. Will you keep us posted?—or ask Mom to pass it on, if they do accept?"

For the sake of our calendar, Aunt Betty told us when and where it was to be. I was plenty eager to attend, but I would have said what Ellen had. We were still kind of going behind Dad's back when we got together with his siblings—Mom knew we did, of course—but I wasn't ready for something like this.

Aunt Betty went on, though. Or went back. "Anyway, as I said, Bob managed to be correct and polite to everyone, and everyone likewise to him—there were a couple I had worried a little about, too. But there still weren't any fond hugs between him and anyone—though I would have liked to, and I would have if there'd been the faintest hint he'd welcome it.

"But Julie kind of startled me. That first time Mary and I went out with her for coffee, well, of course we hugged when we were leaving. And I hugged Julie without thinking, and she kind of froze a little. But I guess Mary didn't notice that, and she hugged her too. We were saying appropriate things, of course, how happy we were to have met her and had a chance to get to know her a little. But the next time the three of us got together—that one we planned—Mary and I had talked and we'd agreed not to push things. But your mom just up and greeted us with hugs, and every time thereafter, greeting and parting both. So she hugged us both at the end of that meeting, and then all your other aunts, too. I could see she was hesitant about the men, and I guess they could see that too. But it didn't take a lot to see Bob was pretty startled."

"Aunt Betty," I said, "you've just cleared up a little mystery that's had me almost worrying, for years now. Mom never was a hugger, or expressive like that, in any way, as long as I can remember. And then, when Ellen came to meet them, the first thing Mom did was hug her! I may have gotten more hugs from Mom that one week than in my whole life up to then! And she hasn't stopped. I knew it really was Mom, but sometimes it felt like it was someone else pretending to be her. So thank you—both for telling me, and for somehow being the catalyst."

Ellen was looking at me. "Phil, where did you get it, then? You're as demonstrative as any guy I know, and more."

I hesitated. "I don't really know. I think it must have started earlier, but I think this really is something else I owe Jenny for as well. And you know how much more there is! But. Um. Freshman year, everything I had to put up with, from Sam and from Wagner—I was just falling apart. I'd forgotten how much time I spent crying on her shoulder, until you just asked.

"And now that I remember and think about it, I don't understand that, at all. You know how quick the romance police were to intervene—and of course they needed to be! But no one on staff ever said boo to me about inappropriate physical contact or anything! I should ask Jenny whether she was ever reprimanded for it, but surely she would either have stopped or at least said something?"

Ellen said, "I think they have a lot of practice in telling the difference. And we know they really watch and track students, and anything important gets passed along to everyone. Think about partner assignments." And of course, some things that were said to me, and to me and Jenny, senior year had made that clear, too.

I looked at Aunt Betty and said, "Our high school was unique, we've told you some. Well, think about four or five hundred teenagers isolated from the rest of the world, thrown together that closely, for four years. At least part of the reason for their policy must be that romantic issues can cause enough turmoil and angst to seriously affect studying, and I'm proof of that. Anyway, for three years they step in fast to quash any romantic pairings. First it's a warning, but if that's not enough, they totally separate the parties involved."

She said, "But this school runs four years. You just said so again."

I sighed, then took another deep breath. "Right. Senior year, they have a very hands-on and practical sex ed program, running one week, partners assigned. After that, pairing is allowed and even encouraged." I looked at both Aunt Betty and Uncle Jim. "Please don't spread this around. But anyway, partners were assigned for that week, though we had a little input. But a really amazing number of those assignments were very well chosen. Quite a lot of them are still together, despite separations—I mean, going to different colleges and so on. We told you just a little about Sam's history with me, but she had just really repented—not just of how she'd treated me, but of being the kind of person she had been. And I'd forgiven her. She requested me, and we were assigned as partners. A potential disaster, that turned into a spectacular success. Sam and I did bond that tightly—for all that Ellen's the one I married in the end. And all this is also part of the background of that first drawing of Sam's, the one with Jenny.

"I'm sorry, I talk too much. There's too much to explain that I shouldn't explain, so I shouldn't have started."

We talked for a while about other things, especially the kids, and then we rounded up Avi and Bella. And yes, it felt a little like herding cattle and cutting two out of the herd. All four of us said goodbye to the cousins, hugged the aunt and uncle again, got in the car, and drove home.

As we were loading the kids in, Ellen said, "Would it be better if I drive?"

"No, I'm fine. We should talk some, but not now." She nodded. We had agreed early on that this kind of talk was not for the kids' ears. I was pretty sure I wasn't going to fall apart, but not discussing it was a good idea for that reason, too. I knew my own mental state was what lay behind Ellen's question, anyway.

That evening, we got the kids bedded down early. Well, it had been a long and very active day. Peter gave us a little trouble—we had let him sleep longer than we should have. We got ourselves ready, and sat down for prayers, but we took time to talk first. Mostly for me to talk.

"I'm so glad Aunt Betty told us what she did, about Mom and Dad both. But Dad—. I never had a clue before. And that's a hard one. Granddad went through all those places with me—Mark 11:24 John 16:24, all the others—and we talked a lot.

"He admitted that he wasn't satisfied with anything he could say about them, and I'm not either. Except that a couple of things he did say make sense, helping me understand. One was that they just couldn't mean that if we psych ourselves up to believe some prayer will be answered, that we can just compel God to do anything we may ask, however wrong or stupid. Another was examples from scripture itself—Paul's 'thorn in the flesh,' say, whoever or whatever that was.

"But finally, he always came back to saying, I know the Lord and know I can trust him. Meaning that getting bent out of shape because he couldn't make sense of why a prayer wasn't answered was itself a lack of trust."

Mostly, Ellen just let me talk on, but at that point she spoke up. "Like that time with Elise, and what Jenny said. Not only that I should have known I was missing something because I knew how trustworthy you are, but that if I really had—I mean, if things had really been the way they looked, you would have acted totally differently. She was absolutely right. You'd have been confessing and begging me to forgive you, not trying to feed me a story. And I did know you that well! I just didn't stop to think." She hugged me, and laid her head against me for a moment. A long few moments.

"OK. I don't think there's anything I can say to Dad. Obviously he's let go of some of the bitterness. I don't just mean that he's stopped being so rude. I can see—anyone who knew him before can see that he's a lot more relaxed about life as a whole."

"I agree, we can't tell him he needs to really reconcile with his family or anything. About all we can do is keep praying. But what she said about Mom was worth hearing, too. I may owe some of how readily Mom and Dad both accepted me to your aunts. I could see it really surprised you, and you said why, but I never knew Mom any other way."

We spent most of our prayer time that night giving thanks for what we'd heard, and praying for Mom and Dad, and for real reconciliation between Dad and his family. I was awed at how far that had come already.

I spent quite a while thinking about all that, though. I discussed it with Ellen first, and we both had concerns and reservations, but I was determined to go ahead. So the next time we were at my parents' house for an afternoon, once dinner was over and the kids were occupied in another room, I said, "Dad, there's something you and I need to discuss, and it's a little awkward."

They both looked curious and a little apprehensive, but Dad said, "OK, then let's hear it."

I gave more detail than I probably should have. I went back to when I'd first met Sam's uncle and aunt, and how they had kind of adopted me as their nephew, treating me from then on as part of the family, in the end almost as much as Sam was. None of that was new to them, of course. They'd met the Goodfriends at our wedding, and I'd had to explain to them why I addressed them as Uncle John and Aunt Sally, after all!

I went on to try to explain how I'd come to feel about that—that I had felt like I'd been deprived of knowing my own aunts and uncles and cousins. I said, "So when we came here that Christmas break, I was determined to meet them. I called Aunt Betty and asked to meet her and Uncle Jim, and she took the initiative to get them all together to meet me and Ellen."

Of course, Mom knew all that, but I didn't bring that up. On the other hand, Dad's not stupid. I knew he had to see that Mom had known all about this at the time, but I didn't want to raise that point. This was one of the things Ellen and I had major reservations about, though.

I went on to say that we'd kept in touch with them, mostly through Aunt Betty, going to see her and Uncle Jim, and occasionally some of the others.

"It's just been bothering me more and more, doing this the way we have. I'll try not to bring it up a lot, but you really should know that I'm seeing your brothers and sisters, and their spouses, once in a while," I finished up.

Dad didn't say anything right away, and I was worrying a little. Finally, though, he said, "Phil, I knew about it. Your mom told me you were doing this, oh, maybe a year or so ago. And I should have suggested it to you myself.

"When you were younger, Dad and I agreed that he and Mom wouldn't bring you into contact with the others. He was a little reluctant, but we both were afraid that you would wind up hearing part of what all had happened, from one side, and we thought that was a bad idea. You know I never said anything about it to you, and that was my biggest reason. But once you were grown, I should have made sure you had the chance to meet them all, if you wanted to."

He hesitated again. "Your mom told me how she came to meet Betty and Mary, and to start seeing them. And back at that time, I told you, the two of you were right that I was being intolerably rude, mostly with no good reason at all. I've tried to put that behind me and act better, and I really do thank you for pushing me to do it.

"Anyway, around a year ago, for, well, business reasons, we all had to get together for a meeting. And we all managed to be civil to each other, and I'm glad of that. But Julie decided that with that much accomplished, she didn't need to keep quiet about her contacts with my family, or yours either."

Mom said, "I never was really happy keeping it a secret, but I thought having a big fight over it would be worse. So when it seemed maybe we could talk about it without getting bogged down in quarrels, I decided I should fess up."

I hesitated, myself. "Dad, Aunt Betty told me some about that meeting, pretty recently. It came up from something else we were talking about. But I should mention one thing she said, or maybe it's two. She mentioned whatever happened years ago, before I was born, to say that it certainly wasn't all your fault, and that—I think she said it was a couple—anyway, some others were just as active in saying things they shouldn't have. And about the meeting itself, she said there were others she was worried about too. I think she was glad for the chance to see you without having it turn into something unpleasant."

He said, "Your aunt Betty has always been a real sweetheart. She was my favorite sister—of course, we were close in age, but she really is sweet and good. Well, I guess you've had a chance to see that for yourself."

We talked about it a while longer. I felt like a big weight was suddenly off my shoulders. As I'd said, I had been unhappy about seeing Dad's family behind his back, and that was part of it. But also, I had been really, really afraid of how he might react when I told him. This was just about like the day before Ellen and I formally became engaged—when I'd felt I had to tell Dad what kind of wedding we were planning, but dreading his reaction, and then it turned out Mom had already told him. I was so relieved I was ready to break down and cry.

It turned out that Mom and Dad went to the barbecue—and so did we. Aunt Betty did discuss it with Mom, but Uncle Joe, it seemed, called and had a fairly long talk with Dad. I really don't know much of what they discussed, but the invitation was clearly part of it.

Aunt Betty had once implied that a couple of family members still had some hard feelings against Dad, but if so they didn't act on them. Various people asked Dad questions about his job, and at one point or another I think all of his siblings, and their spouses, were listening to those.

Of course, Dad wasn't willing to talk too much about it. A long time ago I had decided that the problem was that it was too easy not to stop talking when he should, to bring in details that should be left unsaid. This time, Dad said as much, a couple of times.

Once, though, Uncle Joe said, "OK, Bob, that makes sense. But can you come up with an example that would help us, something that didn't really involve anything sensitive?"

Dad thought for a moment, and said, "I think I can. In some ways this isn't typical, but in other ways it may be. And maybe there isn't a typical case anyway."