At long last, here is Part Six of this story. It has been the hardest story to get finished, partly for personal reasons and partly, well, I just kept hitting the fabled writer's block. I am not totally happy with it and I will be interested in your take on it. I look forward to your comments.
As always, all characters are fictional and exist only within the confines of the story and in my imagination. Enjoy!
One of the darkest places I think anyone can find themselves is inside an intensive care ward in the early morning hours watching someone die. So it was in late February, at three o'clock on a bitter cold morning that I found myself with my family. The room was silent except for the "fshhhing" sounds of machines hooked to my father. Mom was wide awake and watching from a chair across the room, my twin brothers dozing on each side of her while I sat next to my father watching as the numbers on his monitor crept slowly downward. Hooked up the ventilator and God knows how many tubes and wires, Dad looked small and frail, nothing like the large, fierce man I spent most of my life despising.
Somewhere over the Midwest, Aunt Debbie was flying in, but I knew she would never make it before her hated brother in law passed on. Molly, darling Molly was probably asleep in the ICU waiting room, exhausted from sharing our vigil and from the long, late night drive to bring me home to witness the passing of my father.
Dad had been out ice fishing with his buddies, sitting in their little shack, listening to the Bulls on the radio, occasionally pulling a trout out of the icy water and drinking and smoking with little restraint. His best buddy told me that my old man had requested a beer and that by the time he had retrieved one from the cooler that my father had slumped over, face distorted as he fell victim to a massive stroke.
That was almost two days ago. Another stroke had come rushing in on the coattails of the first and Dad had slipped into a coma. The doctors made sympathetic noises and didn't pull any punches when they said it was only a short matter of time.
I wasn't sure what to make of all the emotions churning inside me – perhaps most of all, the realization that for all the hard words over the years, for all the hatred I had inside me for the way he treated Mom and despite the pride I took in claiming his wife and my mother as my own woman, I was amazed to still realize that I loved the old bastard. I was still his son – something I think I had forgotten as the years passed by.
One look at Mom told me that she was struggling with the same feelings. On one hand, she looked at me with such devotion and love it almost burst my heart. On the other hand, I could see the pain in her eyes as she watched him fading away...pain and regret and yes, love.
The monitor began to beep and a nurse came into the room and checked it over, shaking her head as she watched his numbers sink lower by the minute. "It won't be long now," She said to Mom and me. She tried to smile sympathetically and failed miserably. "Probably just a few minutes." The nurse left us to watch the numbers drop and drop.
Dad began to gasp – the nurses had warned us this would be the final sign. Mom roused the twins from their fitful sleep and we gathered around the bed. The twins each had hold of one of our father's hands and tears began to flow. Mom and I stood at the end of the hospital bed, Mom easing against me as I put an arm around her waist. I was surprised to find myself wiping tears out of my eyes.
In a strong voice, Mom called out. "It's time, Frank – let go. Be at rest." My father's monitor numbers flatlined a few seconds later, he let out one last long breath and was silent. Mom sighed and whispered, "Oh, Frank." The twins turned towards Mom and rushed for her. She took them in her arms and let them cry out their pain while I stood behind her, hands on her shoulders, just wanting her to know I was there.
The nurse came back in and quietly shut off the monitors, made note of the time and whispered softly, "Take all the time you need to say your goodbyes." When the twins had cried themselves out, they each went to our father and kissed him on the forehead. Mom leaned over his body and gave him a kiss, lips barely brushing his. I went last, a shuddering sigh washing over me as I reached down and took his cooling hand and kissed it. I felt like I should say something, but in death, so much like life, my father and I had nothing to say to each other.
We were shown to a small room where Mom met with a funeral home worker and arranged for the Old Man to be transported. I took on the responsibility of calling my father's siblings and letting them know he'd passed away.
We then joined Molly outside the ICU. She looked at me, the question in her eyes and I nodded. "Oh, Sugar. I'm sorry." she whispered, embracing me and then Mom and then because they looked like they needed it, the twins. "Anything I can do, please just tell me," Molly whispered, taking my hand as we headed for the elevator.
I squeezed her hand and as we followed Mom, her arms around the boys, replied, "You already are, Molly."
And that was true. When Mom had called me at work to tell me Dad was dying, I'd asked Molly if she'd give me a lift to the Bus Station, knowing Mom would have be too busy with this crisis to come for me. Molly insisted on driving me home and we spent most of last night driving across Illinois in her old, beat up Chevy van. Since then, she'd stood by us, trying to help in any way she could.
When we arrived home, the twins trudged wearily down to their basement bedroom while Molly and I walked with Mom upstairs. We stopped in front of Mom's bedroom door and I asked her, "Mom, are you okay?"
Mom nodded and sighed. "I just feel tired. I can't seem to sleep since this all happened – it all seems surreal, like I sleep walking through some terrible dream." She looked into the bedroom and shook her head. "I can't stay in there tonight." She looked at Molly and me and continued, "I know your bed would be crowded, but can I just lie down with you two, for a while?"
Mom looked up at with such an odd and sad expression on her face and then she just buried her face against my chest and began to cry. Molly came up behind Mom and began rubbing her shoulders and whispered, "No bed is ever too crowded to have you in it, Carrie."
With Mom still crying softly, I led her to my room. When the door was closed, I eased her out of the clothes she was wearing, a sweat suit she'd had on for most of the last two days. I told Molly where to find a clean sweat shirt while I undid Mom's bra and then slid off her panties, leaving her naked and semi-awake and looking more beautiful than ever. Her long black hair was a bit tangled and awry, but just made her look all the more attractive, like a beautiful woman who'd tumbled out of bed after making love. Only the dark circles under her eyes betrayed the weariness I know she was feeling.
I felt a little guilty as my body responded to Mom's naked body. Just looking at her made me fall in love and lust with my mother all over again. Her luscious frame highlighted by her heavy, gourd shaped breasts, capped with thick, meaty nipples, her belly, looking even flatter than it had at Christmas and her long, shapely legs that ended in a jungle of dark hair which hid the gates of heaven. I felt myself harden despite the circumstances.
Mom smiled at me through sleepy eyes – her gaze traveling downwards towards my thickening penis. "I have missed you so much and I wish..."
"Me too, Mom," I replied. "There will be time enough later."
Mom nodded and I knew that like me, she was thinking about how things were about to dramatically change, and although she had planned to leave the Old Man, this way...well, neither of us felt good about it.
I tried to ignore the feelings of lust as Molly and I pulled the sweat shirt over her head to use as a nightshirt. I stripped down till I was naked as did Molly and we led Mom to my bed and cuddled her between us, Mom facing me, my hard-on nestled in her thick thatch of pubic hair and Molly spooning her from behind, her full breasts pressing against Mom's back.
Mom kept sighing, "I'm so tired, but I can't fall asleep." She stirred restlessly while I stroked her arms and gently kissed her. Behind Mom, Molly had an arm up under the oversized sweat shirt, rubbing her back. Despite our best efforts, Mom was too wound up to fall asleep.
Molly finally took matters in her own hands – literally. "Kiss your mother, John," she whispered. While I did so, pressing my lips against Mom's, our tongues gently caressing each other, Molly continued to rub Mom's back, slowly descending until she was gingerly massaging the small of her back. Mom gave a start as she suddenly felt Molly's fingers tracing down along the crack of her ass and then press between her thighs to massage the fleshy folds of her pussy.
Mom gave a little shiver and moved her thighs slightly apart, allowing Molly more access between her legs, sighing into my mouth as her tongue fluttered against mine. Molly rubbed fingers up and down Mom's labia until they began to part, revealing glistening and wet flesh underneath. Mom's arms wrapped around my shoulders and she pulled me tight against her as Molly slipped a finger inside her.
"Yesssss," Mom moaned against my lips as Molly began to touch her secret spots, adding another finger as she probed Mom's slick, wet flesh. Mom shivered and began to kiss me with more passion, her nipples plumping up and pressing against the cotton of the sweatshirt to poke against my chest.
Molly's touch was sure and precise. Resting her chin on Mom's shoulder, Molly smiled at me, giving me that knowing and sexy wink of hers as she fingered Mom. Mom's left leg was drawn up and I could see Molly's fingers working in and out of Mom's pussy, shiny in the dim light of the single lamp on the bedside table. I kept kissing Mom gently and lovingly as Mom's breathing quickened as Molly's fingers found her sweet spots. Molly added a third finger – two thrusting deeper inside Mom while her middle finger probed upward seeking out her G-spot.
