Because He Could

Again I'd like to thank blackrandl1958 for the invitation to write in her "

Wicked Games

" event.

"Family... You have to love them, because you can't kill them."

I don't know who said that quote, but in my opinion, truer words were never spoken.

Because if I could, I'd be burying most of my family right now... without a regret.

I'm getting ahead of myself...

I was the second son and last child in a three-child household. I know a lot of people will claim that the baby of most families gets treated the best, but apparently my parents never got the memo. As the youngest, I got the worst pieces of food to eat, the worst chores that the kids had to do in the house and I was the only kid who got hand-me-down clothes, even though my parents could certainly afford better.

You might think I'm kidding, but an example of this is the fact that I never got a piece of white meat chicken for dinner until my sister, the oldest child, left for college when I was 14.

Also, in the days before television remotes, it was always my job to change the TV channel in the family room, even if I wasn't in the room with everybody else. If I was anywhere in the house, I got the call, and I was required to be in the room to get the channel changed before the program came on that other family members wanted to see.

It wasn't quite as bad as Cinderella and her stepsisters, but in my opinion it wasn't too far off.

And then Susan Marsden showed up in my world.

My older brother Wayne and I watched as the moving company pulled into the driveway of the old Johnson house three doors down. A dark blue Chevrolet station wagon pulled up in front of the house, and a man, a woman, a boy and a blonde-haired, blue-eyed angel exited the vehicle. My heart rate went way up, I started to sweat and my stomach got queasy. It was a feeling I would have often over the next two-plus decades.

"Jeffy and Blondie sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Jeffy pushing a baby carriage," Wayne lamented in childish sing-song.

At 8 years old, I wasn't totally aware of what the little song meant, but I was old enough to know it meant that Wayne thought I liked the new girl... which at that age wasn't a good thing for any boy to admit. Girls had cooties, even if they were blonde-haired, blue-eyed angels. Even though I had a lot of things going haywire in my brain, I couldn't admit that to my 10-year-old, pain in the backside brother.

"Shut up, doofus!" I succinctly yelled.

"Ooh, make me, tough guy," he snapped back.

At that time in our lives, Wayne had me by four inches and 40 pounds. There was no way I was ever going to win that fight, although several times in the past I had tried unsuccessfully. Right at the moment, though, I didn't want to look bad in front of the prettiest girl I'd ever seen up close.

Twelve-year-old Eddie and 8-year-old Susan Marsden were the only other kids on our end of our street, so it was natural that my siblings and I and the Marsden kids hung out together a lot. Because of our ages, Susan and I played together a lot. She was a bit of a tomboy, and could throw a baseball and a football almost as well as I could.

We quickly became best friends, and even though she developed friendships with other girls in our small rural town, we were still each other's go-to until almost the end of our eighth-grade year. We had never kissed up until that point, but we occasionally held hands, sometimes in school and sometimes out in public. I took a fair bit of ribbing from my guy friends, but deep down inside I liked it because I felt she was the prettiest girl in town, and she could still make my heart race.

It was just before the end of the school year when I thought my life as I knew it ended. Josh Archer, the quarterback of our freshman football team, asked Susan to go to the end of the year freshman mixer at the high school, and she quickly and happily accepted. To say I was crushed would have been the understatement of my young life.

"B-b-but I thought you were my girlfriend," I whined when she told me about her date, struggling mightily not to cry in front of her.

"Well, you never really asked me to be your girlfriend, and besides, he's a high school guy, and the quarterback of the freshman football team," she squealed in delight.

"Yeah, whatever," I said as I walked away from her and the pack of excited squealing females that surrounded her.

As I walked into my house feeling like dogcrap, my brother approached, looking for all the world like he was going to give me some sage older brother advice. After all, he was a worldly sophomore, wasn't he?

"Blondie bitch-slapped your ass, didn't she?" he crowed, using a profanity that was heard by our mother.

Even Wayne getting grounded for a week for cursing didn't erase the sting of losing my girl.

Mom tried her best to make me feel better by telling me it was just one date and didn't mean that Susan didn't like me anymore. Yeah, like I believed that.

I didn't go over to Susan's house and she didn't come over to mine for the week leading up to the freshman mixer. I resisted the urge the hang around outside in the front yard to see what she looked like when Josh Archer's dad drove him over to pick up Susan.

"Man, Blondie really looked good. You should have seen her. She and Josh made a good-looking couple," my brother snarked when he walked into the house a few minutes after Mr. Archer drove off.

Susan and I kept our distance from each other for the rest of the school year and throughout the summer. We'd wave at each other, but neither of us made the effort to get with the other to talk. I'm not going to lie; I was miserable, but it seemed to me that she had moved on. I, on the other hand, hadn't moved on. I barely talked to any girls and spent much of my free time playing baseball during the day and basketball during the evenings. I was a pretty decent athlete, and by keeping myself busy, I didn't think too much about Susan. Too much.

My brother made sure I always knew what she was doing. Apparently she had started dating, and Wayne made sure to keep me abreast any time she went out.

My parents noted Susan's absence from our house and lives several times. My brother was always eager to rub it in, regaling us with stories about seeing her with different guys. My sister, Diana, very often came to my tacit defense by pointing out that my brother wasn't exactly a hit with girls, either.

"Maybe I should ask Blondie out. She's always been friendly with me," he enthused.

"I'll kill you in your sleep if she goes out with you! You got that?" I yelled.

As I was focused on my brother, I didn't see the slap coming from my father. He got me high up on my face and side of my head and just about knocked me out of my chair.

"You're lucky you're sitting too far away from me to reach you," my dad said to Wayne. "But here's the deal. If I find out that you're messing with Susan,

I'll

kill you, and it won't be in your sleep. You got me?"

"Yes, sir," Wayne grumbled.

The first week of my freshman year was an eye-opener for me. In the past, I had pretty much been a non-entity among the female population, except for Susan, but suddenly it seemed like I was the new kid in town as every pretty freshman girl wanted to get to know me. I had grown four inches and gained 25 pounds over the summer and stood 6-foot, 175 pounds. I had longish dark brown curly hair and big brown eyes, and I guess I wasn't too bad-looking.

I also found out that not being attached at the hip with Susan turned out to be a good thing for me.

I was surprised at first by all of the attention the frosh girls lavished on me, but I have to admit I liked it. I dated a couple of different girls early on before settling on a short, cute redhead with bright green eyes as my steady. Erin Griffin was always bright and cheerful to be around, which explains why she was chosen for the freshman cheerleading squad. She also had thick, kissable lips that I got to sample on a regular basis. Life was good.

Two days after the Christmas dance, Mom led Susan into my bedroom, telling me I had a visitor and to leave the door open. Both Susan and I blushed.

"Look, Jeff, I made a mistake when I went out with another guy last year when we were together, but I was too scared to admit that to you," she said. "I've gone out with several guys now, and I know you were the best. I want us to be together again."

I was sitting on my bed reading a book when Susan walked in, and hadn't moved while she talked. I sat there like a deaf-mute for several seconds before finally nodding my head.

"If we do this, there's no ifs, ands or buts about it. You're my girlfriend... and that means you don't go out with or even mess around with another guy. You got that? No flirting... no kissing... nothing like that. You do anything... sketchy... we're done, done for good," I explained.

"I got it," she said quietly.

"First things first, though, I've got to break up with Erin. She's a really great kid. I really like her," I said.

"Yeah, I know. I saw the way you two were all over each other at the Christmas dance. I knew that should have been me with you, not some other girl," she said.

Erin took the news about as well as I could expect. I knew I was wrong for dumping her, but...

Susan and I were quickly back in tune with each other, with the added dimension of kissing and an occasional sneaky fondle by me. That would usually get me a raised eyebrow, followed by a quick smile. She was my girl in every sense of the word. Other guys tried for her, some of which I knew about, but she lived up to her word.

We decided to go off to college together at the University of Wisconsin in Madison. We lived one floor apart in the same dorm our freshman year but then moved in together in an off-campus apartment for our final three years. Obviously both our parents knew, and while they didn't necessarily approve, they were mostly cool with it... although Susan had to promise her parents she would stay on birth control at least until after we graduated.

We actually got married after our sophomore year in school. Our parents gave us a very nice wedding, which was going along great until toward the end when Wayne decided to be a dick and grope my newly-minted wife while they were dancing to a slow song. I happened to be across the room watching, and was on top of him in less than five seconds, pulling his hand off her ass and then punching him in the mouth.

"Fwuckkk!" he muttered through the blood that was spurting from his gums.

"I've warned you before, ass-wipe! You don't ever touch my wife!" I yelled at him as people ran to separate us.

Once I calmed down, the remainder of the wedding was back to being great, and I never really gave a thought to the fact that my wife never tried to remove my brother's hand from her ass.

Susan and I came back to the area after graduation. I took a job as an editor with a small magazine group, and Susan went to work for a non-profit, at least until we started a family, at which time she became a stay-at-home mother. I was doing well enough to afford her to stay at home, although I wasn't ever going to be earning the big bucks.

My dick of a brother stopped being a problem for me when he moved to California a year later with his wife of two years. He was always a great bullshitter, and that served him well in his job of television advertising sales. According to my mother, he was quite successful, and lived in a big house in a ritzy neighborhood. I was happy for him, although in truth I was happier for me that I wouldn't have to see him very often.

As life does, the next 18 years sped by. Two years after we married, Marianne was born and instantly became the apple of my eye, and Will completed our family two years later.

At 38, Susan could still make my heart rate rise. We were both committed gym rats, and I thought her body was as good as it was when we were first married, despite having two children. In fact, in some ways it might have been better because her boobs were a little bigger and her hips and ass were also a touch bigger. Overall, it was a more womanly Susan, and I was very pleased she was mine.

The call from my mother was pretty devastating. Despite never having been a smoker, my brother was diagnosed with lung cancer, and his doctor was giving him about two years to live. It seems he had been having some problems for several months, but had been mostly ignoring those until he just couldn't take care of himself on a full-time basis.

By this time, Wayne had been married and divorced twice. Seems neither wife was happy with his philandering ways, but at least there were no kids to worry about. The fancy-ass house was long gone due to the two divorces, and he was living alone in a two-bedroom apartment in a less-fashionable neighborhood, despite having a good career working.

Wayne was going to need help in the future, and Mom had some thoughts about how we could all pitch in and help. She called a family meeting for the next Sunday, and both Susan and I and my sister, Diana, and her husband, Ronnie, were expected to show up at my parents' house.

A lot of stuff was thrown around at the meeting. Wayne wanted to stay in his home as long as possible, even though that was probably the most inconvenient thing for those who were going to help him as the rest of the family lived half a country away. What was finally decided upon was that the three women in the family—my mom, sister and wife—would take turns living with and helping Wayne for rotating periods of time. Because my wife didn't work and my kids were old enough to help at home, Susan would stay with Wayne for four weeks at a time and basically take two turns to one each for my sister and mother, while my mom and sister, who both had jobs, would stay for two weeks. The rotation would be Diana for two weeks, Susan for four weeks and then Mom for two weeks and Susan for another four before it repeated itself.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, who decided this cockamamie schedule?" I asked my wife. "I get that you are the one who doesn't work, but you're also the one with two kids at home."

"Marianne drives now, and she can help out with taking Will to sports practices and what-not," she said. "You three will have to be more efficient when I'm not home, and I'll also have to be more efficient setting things up when I'm home.

"We've got to do what we can for Wayne. It's what family does for family," she said.

I really couldn't argue with that, even if I was the one getting schlocked the most on this deal. My brother may have been a major dickhead, but he was family. My kids and I could learn how to cope.

We did a video call with Wayne from Mom and Dad's living room. He was so choked up with emotion over the women going out to help that he cried, which set off everyone here as well. It was like a scene from a sappy Hallmark Channel movie.

The kids, Susan and I had a family meeting before Susan took off for California for the first shift. The kids were old enough to understand that Uncle Wayne needed help, so they promised to help me out at home. Susan also cooked several meals ahead before she left for Wayne's.

"I really appreciate you doing this for the family, babe," I told Susan. "Just remember, though, you are there to help Wayne, not be his personal slave. Don't let him push you around... and don't fall for any of his bullshit."

She nodded with tears in her eyes, then went through the gate at the airport.

The kids and I spoke to Susan about every other day on her first shift in California. She told us Wayne was in pretty good spirits and physically was still able to do most things. All three of us went to the airport to pick her up when she came home.

Her two weeks at home passed incredibly fast and before we knew it she was back on her way to California. She again had cooked ahead for us and the four of us spent a lot of time together when she was home. It almost seemed like we had grown closer as a family.

I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but things just seemed a little off when we talked with Susan on her second shift out in California. I wondered if the kids noticed as well, but I didn't ask them. Susan almost seemed preoccupied when he was talking with us. I assumed that Wayne was going downhill faster than we anticipated and that my wife was taking it hard.

"We can adjust things if this is getting too hard for you, Sus," I said to her several times.

"No. It's okay. Sometimes I just need to remind myself how fortunate we are to have each other. Wayne's got no wife, no kids. He's all alone here, except for me, Diana and Mom when we're here. I think that would be really tough," she said.

We had adjusted well in Susan's absence and the household was running fairly smoothly. For me personally, the adjustment was a little tougher not having my lover and best friend with me every day. There was also the loss of Susan sexually as our lovemaking went from three times a week down to zero—obviously—for the month she was not home. I wondered if she felt that loss as well.

I went to the airport alone to pick up Susan the second time, and to be truthful I considered getting a hotel room so we could make love before the drive home. My balls felt full to bursting and my hard dick left absolutely no extra room in my jeans as I drove to the airport.

I had to sit in my car for a few minutes when I got to the airport to let my raging hard-on relax. My wife had now been gone for two months in the last 10 weeks and I was impossibly horny. I wasn't sure I wouldn't embarrass myself in the airport.

She was wearing jeans and a simple blouse as she walked through the gate toward me, but to me she couldn't have looked more beautiful than if she was wearing a ball gown. I noticed she looked... tired, maybe, as she got close, but I was too lost in my excitement to really examine that in my head. It wasn't until she didn't return my kiss with a matching enthusiasm that I realized there might be a problem.

When I pulled my face away from hers, I took a sneaky look at her downcast eyes. She looked fatigued, and my first thought was that my brother's health had to be taxing her more than she was admitting. The other thought in my head... well, that just was too selfish for me to consider for more than a split-second.

My previous mood was killed, and I was probably more aware of Susan's "aura" than at any other time in our marriage on the drive home. Conversation was sparse, and I think we both felt something was off.

As usual, the kids were all over their mother when we got home, so that took some of the pressure off Susan and me. They talked her ear off for probably an hour after she got home. She didn't say too much, but her smile, no matter how tired she looked, told the kids everything was alright, at least from their standpoint.

When the kids finally turned in, I asked Susan if taking care of Wayne was getting to be too much for her, physically or mentally. For the first time since she stepped off the plane, she seemed to have energy.

"What are you trying to say, Jeff? You don't think I can handle this? I'm just a little tired. Sitting in an airport for a couple of hours and then flying for several more is always tiring. I've got this. Me, Mom and Diana are doing this for Wayne," she bit at me.

"Okay, no problem. I get it. You just look a little ragged, is all I'm saying," I commented, getting up from my chair and walking into the kitchen ostensibly to get myself a drink.

Since I had to go to work the next day, I went to bed at 11, and tried to persuade Susan to go with me, for reasons that I thought were obvious. Not obvious enough, however, as she told me she was going to sit up a while before coming up. I'm sure my mouth dropped open when she said that. Here I was practically gagging for it after a month alone, and Susan acted as if she hadn't a horny bone in her body. Yeah, I had a problem.