Editor's note: this fictional work contains scenes of fictional incest or fictional incest content.
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Chapter 1: Fork in The Road
"When you come to a fork in the road, take it." That's just one of the many quotes from Yogi Bera that seem moronic when you first hear them but unquestionably obvious. Truism is the correct term for these sorts of jokes. Statements of the obvious but are often uttered with an air of profound wisdom. Another from the gentleman is, "It ain't over till it's over." That's one that I adopted as an important personal motto. It will remain so until the day comes when it truly will be "permanently" over for me. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
I'm sure most people reading this have little or no familiarity with Yogi Berra, a hall of fame catcher with the New York Yankees from 1946-1963. That's unfortunate because he was arguably one of the best "backstops" of all time. I myself was born several years after he retired as a player. Thus, I never got to see him in action other than in a few baseball documentaries. However, I do remember him when he was a manager, a coach, a product spokesperson, and a guest on various talk shows into the 1980's. But what do Yogi Berra's crazy quotes have to do with my story? Well, I guess it's nearly two years since I indeed learned that "it's not over till it's over". Sometimes you must trust your gut when you choose a direction at that "fork in the road". If you're lucky, it will be the right one. It was for me.
A little over three years ago, I thought my life, at least as I had been living it, was over. My wife of nearly 30 years died well before her time as a result of an insidious and aggressive disease. But then almost two years ago, I was presented with a fork in the road that indeed showed me that, "it ain't over till it's over."
I was born and raised in the city where I write this. I enjoyed my youth and my career here. My name is Dino. At first. I hated having such an ethnic name, but eventually I learned to love it, especially after people began telling me that I indeed looked a lot like Dean Martin.
"It's the eyes," they'd say, "The sleepy bedroom eyes or maybe the nose and the dark wavy hair."
"It's all that and the shit-eating devil may care grin," some would say. "You have that grin that says you have some very naughty thoughts in your head. It's the grin of sin."
Yep, I started loving my name especially as I realized the advantage it gave me with some of the young ladies I met. It was great that some thought it was fine to allow someone that looked like my namesake to pull off their panties and climb between their spread legs.
I am indeed a pure-blooded Italian going back at least five generations on both sides of the family. Not surprisingly, I have the stereotypical large family that includes a bunch of aunts and uncles and a boatload of cousins. Growing up, one cousin, Maria, lived only about a block away from me. She lived one street away, but the back of her house almost faced the back of mine across an alley. Since she was only about a year younger than me, we saw each other a lot and shared many neighborhood friends. We had a very close but innocent friendship for many years. We used to hang around a lot together and share things that we wouldn't dare tell others. Back then, it was all truly innocent. She was beautiful and sexy but it was strictly hands off between us. However, about a year ago that changed.
When Maria was in her mid-20's, she married a guy she met in college, moved to Connecticut, became a teacher, and had a couple of kids. Her family all stayed here in town. For a long time, Maria and I only saw each other at family events. I also married after college and remained in the area. Maria's parents and mine still lived in the same neighborhood where we grew up. As with many close Italian families, Maria was back in town for holidays, almost every wedding and funeral, most christenings, and other family milestones. As a result, she and I remained in contact over the years. I admit that had especially close feelings for her over all those years. It's one of the reasons that I felt a painful bolt of sadness when her husband died suddenly less than a year after my wife. It seemed that fate delt us both a super sad blow.
OK, before you start seeing all this talk about death as a downer, you have to remember that it's unfortunately a part of life, and we all have to deal with it. On the other side of the coin, it eventually led to that "fork in the road that" and turned out better than I could have ever dreamed. It showed me that as a middle-aged guy, life "ain't over till it's over".
For a couple of years after her husband's death, Maria continued to live and teach in Connecticut. About 18 months ago, she was eligible for early retirement and took the opportunity. She and her husband Jeff had done very well financially, and since their kids were grown and gone, Maria moved back here. Maria's widowed mom, my Aunt Costanza (or Connie as we called her), was getting up in years, so Maria decided to help take care of her. She felt that her brother wasn't up to the job. As it turned out, Maria bought a condo located only several miles from where I live. We often ran into each other at the supermarket or at the mall. One afternoon when we happened to meet, I spontaneously suggested that we have a "late lunch/early dinner" at this small ma-and-pa Italian place in the area. Frankly, I was a little surprised that she accepted so eagerly, seemingly delighted at the idea.
As we ate and shared a bottle of Sangiovese, we talked about the "old days", the old neighborhood, old friends, plus a lot of things about our lives over the years that we never discussed before. The wine certainly loosened our tongues and fueled a discussion that delved into the sorts of personal things we never previously explored. At first, we talked about our shared losses and how we had been coping. As the wine worked further to lower our inhibitions, it got downright intimate.
"Losing your partner is a terrible blow and hits you with a lot of changes," I said. "Unfortunately, I know you understand that all too well."
"No doubt about it," Maria agreed. "Initially there are the financial issues. Then there's dealing with friends and family that mean well but can soon become overly solicitous and intrusive. You just want to tell them to back off and let you work it out yourself. You feel like part of your mind and body has been stolen from you, but eventually you start to feel whole again. You move on with your career, your life, and start to feel like you aren't constantly treading water."
"I know what you mean," I countered. "I went through a period of depression where I thought my life was over. Then things slowly started getting better. However, I found it harder to put up with my job. My company had been bought out by a larger conglomerate. They were messing with the retirement plan that would have forced me into a situation I didn't like. The new company wanted to purge much of the management they felt were too locked into the old company philosophy. When the option arose for an early "buy out", I took it. To save my investment, I rolled my accrued company retirement and 401K accounts into personal IRA's, walked out, and never looked back. I didn't even need that money right away and didn't even go job hunting. I had made some very good investments over the years and had enough income from them that I didn't have to put up with the BS of a job I was learning to hate. I'm pretty much retired other than for some volunteer things I do. I haven't regretted it for a minute."
"I understand how you feel," Maria agreed. "I'm in much the same situation. I'm glad I retired as soon as I could and moved back here. I may decide to get another job at some point, but right now I'm just living for me. I'm getting used to the leisure life. However, there are some changes that you don't realize until you do start emerging from the depression of losing a spouse and start into a new life for yourself. Like sex for example. At first you don't care. Gradually, you start feeling the need for it again. At least that's the way it is for me. I really didn't want to get heavily involved with somebody, but found I missed the physical contact. Then again, I always had a relatively high sex drive. How about you? I have always had the vibe that it's something important to you. It was something I sensed even when we were still in the old neighborhood. I saw how girls gravitated to you. Did you and Laura have a good sex life?"
I was a bit surprised that Maria would bring up the topic, but I went with it.
"It was pretty good I suppose," was my answer. "I guess it could have been better."
"Hmm," Maria said narrowing her gaze. "Do I sense that there were some potholes? I suppose there are always some bumps in the road. Jeff and I certainly had them. We had a decent sex life, maybe a score of seven out of ten. Don't get me wrong, it was probably better than a lot of people have, but I couldn't help feeling like something was missing and I needed more. I've never told anyone this, but if there's anyone I've known long enough to feel I can trust, it's you. Besides at this point it doesn't matter since Jeff is gone. I feel safe at this point telling l you that over our 25 years of marriage, I had a couple of extracurricular friends that Jeff never knew about. They helped me through some of the off times. I suppose it maybe even helped me stay in my marriage. If things were off at home, I knew I had an option for a bit of excitement with someone else. Don't get me wrong. I loved Jeff very much. He was a good husband and great father. I never had any thoughts of leaving him just because of some occasional erotic excitement on the other side of town. I could explain more but now isn't the time. Suffice it to say, my sexual adventures have been lacking since Jeff passed away."
I couldn't say that I was shocked by what Maria told me. I've experienced enough of life to know that things like what Maria did aren't particularly rare. It's just that we had never delved into each other's personal life like this. Frankly, I had known other women along life's highway that told me much the same things about their marriages that Maria just did. I had my experiences with them much as Maria's with her "extracurricular friends". I knew what she meant about having the option for some adventure in a motel when things were tough at home.
"How about you?" she asked me. "Be honest with me, Dino. I look at you and see a really hot guy. You always were, and frankly you always had me thinking naughty thoughts over the years, cousin or not. I figure that more than one woman expressed some interest in playing around under the sheets with you. Did you ever have any lady friends that Laura didn't know about?"
I wasn't sure what to say or how much I should reveal. I suppose my long silence made her speak up again.
"Come on Dino," Maria said quietly touching my hand. "We've known each other all our lives; more than 50 years. We've both been through about as tough an emotional roller coaster as anybody can handle. At this point, I need a friend that I can trust and be open with. I'll bet you do too."
