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.
In fact, nowhere in Part 6 is there any explicit sexual activity. (This should surprise no one who has read Part 5.)
This entire story is posted only on literotica.com. Any other public posting without my permission in writing is a violation of my copyright.
The flight itself took five hours and more, and then there was the three-hour time difference, so it was evening when we got in, even with a morning departure. Mom met us at the airport—Dad was in a late meeting. We had agreed that it didn't make sense for her to go through any security at all, so she waited in the main lobby, and we touched bases by phone when we arrived and when we had collected our luggage.
She greeted Ellen warmly, offering a hug, which surprised me a little. On the one hand, they had talked some whenever we called. And I thought that perhaps, whatever concern my parents had originally felt when I told them we would be living together, they had been getting used to the idea for months, and they understood that this really was the woman I was going to marry. I was sure that Mom, at least, liked what she had heard from Ellen, and her real concerns were about having me married so young, without really having established a place for myself in the world. Still, Mom just wasn't a hugger, so I was surprised.
When we got home, there was no nonsense about whether we were sharing a room—my room—and certainly no visible disapproval on Mom's part. She talked to us as we got our stuff settled. Closet and drawers were mostly empty, and what was in the drawers was almost all my parents' stuff. Mom said, "I'm sorry, you knew your bed was twin size, but I didn't think about it in time to do anything. And it's a small, cramped room for a bigger bed."
I said, "Mom. This may be the best time to raise this, while Dad's not here.
"First off, we are going to be married in a church, by the pastor of that church. And no, neither of us is a believer, but I seem to be headed strongly that way, and I think Ellen is, too. Her questions and her reasons aren't exactly the same as mine." Ellen nodded, but didn't say anything. She looked as serious as I felt.
"And understand. We've been—we are—continuing to live together, even sharing our bed, but at the pastor's strong request we're not having sex again until the wedding. If at some point that gets too hard, I will be sleeping on the couch. We don't need to make a big deal of this, but you at least should know it.
"As far as this bed goes, it will make things a little harder, but no harder than senior year, sharing with Ellen—or Sam or Jenny in those days—during their periods. I hope so, anyway. Those beds were at least six or eight inches narrower. If we can't stand it, though, I think my sleeping bag is still in the back of my closet. You didn't take it away, did you?" Mom shook her head.
"Um. Even when we were making love, at school, those beds were so narrow that sleeping together was a little hard, anyway. No room to move, and you always disturbed each other."
Mom kind of sat back and looked at me, and then at Ellen. After a long pause, a minute or more, she said, "You're probably wise to not bring this up with your father present, but he really has to know well before the wedding. I think I can convince him to be more agreeable than he usually is about such things—or at least less rude. For myself, I'm really not entirely surprised, I think. Your grandparents raised you as much as we did, and you've said a few things. And I saw years ago that you disapproved of your father's approach—not his beliefs, though you may not approve of those either, but his way of expressing them, especially when it really wasn't his business to say anything at all. I appreciate, very much, your courtesy and respect in not going after him in a similar way.
"But whenever it finally comes up, I will tell him that I am not going to see him spoil your wedding day by being rude. I will say that if he won't guarantee common courtesy, I will go alone or we will both stay home. And if I must stay home, he will understand that I will be greatly hurt by not seeing my only son married."
I felt ready to cry. "Mom, thank you. You know I'd do almost anything rather than make trouble between you and Dad. Or rather, you don't know, but I would.
"I'm afraid there's one thing more, too. I'll try not to make a production out of this, either, but here it is. Sam's aunt and uncle accepted me as an, um, not an adopted nephew, but something close to that, maybe an honorary nephew. Her uncle reminds me an awful lot of Granddad, and that's part of it, but not all. But it made me realize how much I missed having aunts and uncles. Sometime in the next day or two, I'm going to locate and go see—both of us will go see at least a couple of those families, if we can, and I hope all of them eventually. I'm going to have to make clear that I'm not speaking for Dad or even you, but also that I do not feel the same way he does, and I want at least to be known to them and on friendly terms with them.
She looked at me pretty seriously. "Phil, I haven't ever mentioned it to your father, but a few years ago I was kind of thrown together with two of your aunts. Betty and Mary." I nodded. I knew names of my father's siblings and their spouses. And over the years, they had all come to talk to Granddad or Grandmom while I was in their care, and I had been introduced, but they had gone off by themselves for the conversations, so I knew no more than names and faces. Betty was Dad's oldest sister, and her husband was Jim. Mary was Uncle Joe's wife.
"We were all at a meeting, a light luncheon for volunteers at a charity, seated at the same table. I think maybe whoever organized it assumed we knew each other well. At any rate, afterward they went out for coffee together, and they invited me, so we talked for an hour or so. And we've gotten together occasionally since then. They—well, Ellen said it a few weeks ago, and you did just now in another way, Phil. They don't want to drive a wedge between your father and me—they believe a husband and wife should stand together—but they understand that I'm not responsible for your dad's relationship with your aunts and uncles. I can tell you that those two at least will welcome you, and I think any of them will. They're all close, and I'm sure Betty and Mary have talked with them all, about me."
She hesitated for a moment, then said, "In fact, may I call Betty right now and tell her you'd like to visit them while you're here?"
"Mom, that would be great!"
So she dialed, and they just talked for a few moments. She said, "Betty, the reason I'm calling is that Phil is home for a few days. He has his girlfriend—his soon-to-be fiancée—with him, and we were talking. He said that one thing he wanted to do while he's home is seek out his aunts and uncles and meet you all, as many as he can." She listened for a bit. "No, Bob's not home yet, and I think our plan is to keep this quiet for the moment, but if it does come up Phil is pretty determined. You know you've told me you're all about as stubborn as Bob is, and Phil can be that way if he thinks it's important." She listened a little more, and then said, "Hold on a moment." She held out the phone to me. "She wants to talk to you."
I took the phone. We greeted each other, and I said, "Aunt Betty, I'd really like to meet you, with some time to talk. Any of you all. Mom's right, we're coming up to several things where I probably am going to have to dig my heels in with Dad. I'll avoid trouble as much as I can, but, um, I'm grown up now and I'm going to have to act as I think best."
"Phil, we would love to meet you, more than just being introduced at Dad's a few times. We all agreed, years ago, not to put you in—in an awkward position—but we all wished we could get to know you. Dad and Mom did tell us about you, of course, and your mom has said some too. Could you come tomorrow afternoon?"
"Just a minute." I asked Mom, and she told me that she had no specific plans and that Dad was working, probably another long day. "Aunt Betty, that sounds wonderful. Would one o'clock be OK? And I'll be bringing Ellen along."
"We'll look for you then, Phil. I do hope this doesn't bring you trouble, really, but it means a lot to me, and it will to everyone else, too. Is it all right if I ask the others over too, if they can make it? Or would you rather take it slowly?"