Author's Note: There's not that much of what you'd call "action," in this chapter, and I know that's not everyone's cup of tea. I have some ideas of where to take the story next, but feedback and suggestions are also welcome.
As always, all sexual situations only involve characters 18 and older.
I should probably talk a little bit about my dad, Bryan, to start. He's always been the smart, go-getting type, and in his early 20's was already the owner of a small but burgeoning business. By the time he was thirty, that business was starting to really kick things into high gear, being worth about a million dollars. That's when he met his wife, my mom, Paula. She was only eighteen at the time, and as she puts it, "was completely swept off her feet," by Dad. That's not surprising to me, since Dad was not only handsome and charming, but also the type that wouldn't stop whenever he wanted something.
It was practically love at first sight when he met Mom, and within a year afterwards he not only had her as his wife but me as his first born. I know they tried to have more children, but then Mom had a couple of miscarriages and after that they gave up on the idea. It's always been painful topic for both of them, especially her, so I don't bring it up often, but to the best of my understanding, that's what happened.
Life was tough but good from then on for them. Dad kept putting in long hours at work, but his business continued to thrive and grow. Mom stayed at home, putting most of her efforts into raising me, but developed other hobbies too like art and photography. They always managed to make time for each other, and despite the hectic lifestyles you could always tell that they were still very much in love and hadn't drifted apart as could have easily happened with another couple.
My relationship with my parents was a little more complicated. Dad had been, for all intents and purposes, absent for much of my childhood, leaving me mostly with Mom, and she and I developed a tight bond with one another. Tight, but still notably awkward at times. Mom was often very reserved, even with me or Dad; it almost came across as shyness, although that's not really the best word to describe it. She could be even worse with strangers. Mom just like to keep to herself a lot, and even when you talked to her you always got the impression that she had some secret beneath the surface that she wasn't telling you. It added an air of mystery to her, but could also come across as being distant or aloof.
If you're thinking that her secret might be an affair, I can assure you that wasn't case. Her devotion to Dad was unparalleled, although I don't doubt a gorgeous woman like Mom had plenty of opportunities to test that over the years. I have no hesitation calling her "gorgeous," either; one look at her crystal blue eyes framed by that angelic face would be enough to captivate most men. Her body type was more petite than anything, but extremely well proportioned, with curves that could turn heads anywhere, especially if she wore anything that accentuated her shapely hips.
I still remember going out with Mom as a kid, grocery shopping or whatever, and all of the salesmen that would approach her, ignoring the small child standing next to her and the glistening diamond wedding band on her finger. I say "salesmen," because that's what Mom told me they were; it was only years later that I was able to piece together that they were really strangers trying to pick her up. No matter though; Mom always rebuffed their advances quickly but discretely, with the class and charm which makes me truly realize how lucky Dad was to have married her. She's forty-two now, but other than the odd wrinkle that has managed to creep into her face, is just as beautiful as ever, and she takes care of her body well enough that any "maturity" it's developed over the years is mostly an improvement. And so it wasn't a big deal to Dad if Mom's new tennis instructor at the club was flirty and handsome, or if her riding instructor's eyes liked to linger a little too long at the tight equestrian pants she wore to his lessons; he never worried about what Mom might be up to behind his back, and he never had to.
Years passed, and I graduated college with a business degree. Wanting to strike out in the world for myself, I moved out and got a small but nice bachelor's pad and then hit the job market. Things didn't go nearly as well on that front as I had hoped, which is probably not that surprising considering I was a new graduate with no experience, so after a bit of cajoling from Dad, I came to work for him. I asked not to be coddled or get special treatment, and Dad was more than happy to oblige, letting me work my way up the company. After a year of two of this, I began to work with Dad directly, and even if he didn't say it I could tell he was training me to take over when he finally decided he'd had enough. That was fine by me; I felt as if I earned it with the hard work I'd put in even if that wasn't entirely true.
Working with Dad had also done wonders for our personal relationship. It gave us one more thing to connect over, and I think I might have spent more time with him in the three years since joining his company than in all of the rest of my years combined. We were closer than ever and everything seemed perfect, until that fateful day that turned everything upside down for the three of us.
I'll never forget the day when Dad told me he had a rare, obscure illness and the doctors were only giving him about six months left. Those feelings of shock, horror, and sadness were more than anything I could ever express in words. I'm not the outwardly emotional type, generally speaking, but everything was different that day with Dad and Mom with all of us hugging and crying. Over the next few weeks, I spent more and more time at the house with them, until finally deciding to move back home to help out the both of them wherever I could. I also took a paid hiatus from work -- being the owner's son has its privileges -- although I still checked in from time to time, as Dad did even though he also took a leave of absence, presumably for good. When the news had come, I was also put in charge of Dad's finances and other personal dealings, so that meant being in regular contact with Dad's lawyer, accountants, and so forth. As overwhelming as any of this was, however, none of it prepared me for what was about to come next.
It was a hot, sunny afternoon and I was in my old room, trying to do a little work from home on my computer when Dad came in to see me. I was a bit surprised by the intrusion, as I knew Mom was planning on lying out by the pool as she often did when it was nice outside and that Dad would always accompany her. It was nice to see them together like that, and so I would gladly find something to do as to give them their alone time.
"James, we need to talk," Dad said. Even to the degree that the illness had already managed to weaken him, Dad could still mean business when he spoke with such conviction, and so I immediately put away what I was working on. Dad went over and took a seat on the end of my bed while I faced stayed in my office chair, facing him.
"What is it, Dad?" The look on his face looked distressed, and I could feel myself starting to get worried.
"It's your mother," he began uneasily. "We've had a lot to talk about since the news came, and frankly... I'm very worried about how she'll be after I'm gone."
"She'll be okay, Dad," I said reassuringly. "It's going to take time for her, you have to expect that, but she'll be okay."
"What I don't need is your horseshit platitudes, son. Besides, I know Paula a lot better than you do. She
won't
be fine, not by a long shot. She's not one of those people who can live in solitude. She needs companionship, someone to take care of and take care of her, a man in her life. I've tried talking to her about it, and she knows I'm right, but still swears she doesn't want to be with anyone else. It's not fair, James. And she's only forty - two..."
"Well," I answered, trying to be as delicate as I could, "like they say, time heals all wounds and, platitude or not, it's true. Maybe she says that now, and I'm sure she means it, but there's a natural grieving process to losing a loved one too. And, after all that, Mom might choose to start seeing other people, or she may not. Either way, that's her decision. You can't force her to do anything."
