Just a Robinsons' Affair

This is a copyrighted original work of fiction. All rights reserved.

All characters featured herein are at least eighteen years of age, even if not expressly stated. Any resemblance between actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Song lyrics contained herein remain the original artist's property.

*

Denise and I were actual kissing cousins when we were young.

Our moms, my mom Linda and my Aunt Lisa are identical twins. They married two brothers. John, my dad, is the elder of the two, being almost two years older than Uncle Jim. But then of course my mom is the eldest of the twins. By all of six and a half minutes.

My dad and my Uncle Jim were partners in a small contracting company. Robinson's Plumbing and Heating. They're semi-retired now.

Denise is twenty nine days older than me.

I have a brother Daniel. He's four years younger than me.

Denise is an only child.

She grew up three blocks away from our house. Naturally our moms did everything together, including carry Denise and me. She was more of a sister to me than a cousin. Not surprisingly, we even look the same.

In grade school she was in pretty well half of my classes. We ran with the same group of friends. Little kids tend to separate off and do little boy things like play army or sports, or little girl things like playing with dolls. Denise and I wouldn't do things like that, we were always together. At least I don't recall playing with dolls. On our bikes, we'd be everywhere. We'd play tag, climb, watch TV together, play pretend, 'house' she would call it, and just hang out with the pack of kids in the neighborhood. It seems to me that I ate lunch at my Aunt and Uncle's house just as often as I ate at home.

When we were ten or eleven Denise and I did what every healthy, curious child did. We explored each other's bits. Nothing sexual happened, but from that moment forward there was an understood familiarity between us. Nothing in our lives could or ever would remain hidden from each other.

We shared a first kiss together. Practice for the real thing of course. I recall practicing a lot that summer. The first kiss was on the Maid of the Mist. She had cornered me on the boat when our parents couldn't see.

We landed up going to different high schools. It was just the way the school districts were drawn up. We still saw a lot of each other and many of the kids in her school were part of our original gang. Similarly, she knew a lot of the kids at my high school. Nevertheless socially we drifted apart, to a degree at least.

I was her high school prom date. She was devastated when her boyfriend, or rather the boy that she coerced into taking her to the prom, was admitted to the hospital that very morning with severe appendicitis. Both of our parents railroaded me into standing in and taking Denise to the prom. My dad paid for the corsage.

It was a little awkward; everyone knew that we were cousins. Also it was embarrassing for me because I landed up wearing the only suit I owned, a brown one with the sleeves and trouser cuffs too short. Short enough that everyone could see that I'd grown out of the suit. It was a night of snickers and leers. We went to the parties afterwards. Both sets of parents threatened me with my life if I had a drink like the rest of the kids. There was of course nothing untoward that we did that night, unlike some of the other kids.

Until I drove her home. She insisted that I give her a proper good night kiss. I complied.

We went to separate universities. She, in town to study actuarial sciences. I, out of town to get my Mechanical Engineering degree. It was what I knew, plumbing and heating.

We were twenty when she confided to me one summer that she liked girls. Really, really liked girls. I was the first in the family to be told.

It didn't surprise me in the least. The hours that we spent through high school and since talking about how 'that girl's so hot', or 'she's a skank', 'did you see so-and-so in a particular movie or TV show?' At the time I hadn't thought anything of it. It was her just being honest, expressing an opinion that I thought was universally understood. That there was an underlining sexual desire there the whole time, was a recent revelation to her too. In the final analysis, it seemed to me that Denise was a whole lot more like me than I had previously understood. It was comforting. Not only did we look similar, the Robinson genes are strong, but we thought the same, we shared the same histories and our sexual appetites coincided.

We got along fine. We were two peas in the proverbial pod.

After graduating we both landed up living at home again. She found a job with a large insurance company downtown and I with an engineering firm, also downtown. We tended to hang around with the groups of friends we'd made in university but I'd still see her. Sometimes at family functions, sometimes we'd catch a movie together or we'd just hang out together.

After about two years we both independently decided to move out and find an apartment. Separate apartments. Like all young adults we had social lives and sex lives that needed to develop beyond what the confines of our parent's homes could allow.

It became apparent to both of us as we compared apartment listings and rent prices that if we shared an apartment we could get way more bang for our combined buck.

We rented a really nice three bedroom unit. We each had a bedroom and the third bedroom was our computer room. A study. It even had two bathrooms. It was perfect.

Our parents approved. None of them were happy with Denise's lifestyle choice but they grudgingly accepted it anyway. With us sharing an apartment, they were at least content that I would be there to look after her and that she could look after me. She was older after all. In our family six and a half minutes is enough to qualify as older and therefore wiser.

For us it was perfect. We carried on our independent social lives. Interactions between us at the apartment were amicable. Although we both had to work at not being slobs, we never got in each other's way. In fact we spent more time together than pursuing our separate circles of friends. After a while our social circles started to blend together. We were almost like a couple. Or brother and sister.

When I would bring a girl to the apartment my date would invariably wonder who that other girl was.

"It's my gay cousin," I would answer. It was true.

Sometimes she'd bring home a very hot looking woman. I'd lay in bed and wonder what the source of the noise was from across the hall. I'm sure it worked the other way around too.

Occasionally, she would bring home a guy. She wasn't exclusive to one team.

Then I brought home Anna.

Denise and Anna took a shining to each other right away. For several months Anna had a wonderful time. She would simply flit from one bedroom to the other.

Anna suggested that the three of us should drop the tomfoolery and share a bed together as a threesome.

Denise was game for it.

"It's just not right," I said.

That was twenty two years ago. I regretted that decision. But it was the right decision. What would have happened? Anna would eventually leave and I would continue to have sex with Denise. Where would that have put us? On the road to a deformed baby is one possible outcome. Inevitable and unavoidable heartbreak is the other.

We lived together for a total of three years. Eventually Denise met a wonderful and beautiful Chinese girl named Grace. They moved in together. I had to find a cheaper apartment.

After a few years Denise became pregnant and had a baby boy. It had all been set up and planned by Grace and Denise. It was their child. The unwitting donor was Chinese. Young Tommy had two moms.

He's named after his favorite uncle. Me. We are both Thomas Robinson.

I never married. I could never find a girl that I could be as comfortable with as with Denise. I was engaged once and had a number of longer relationships, but they were all lovers. Not friends. Not deep, deep friends like Denise and I were. Not love you like my sister friends.

Grace died last year. Breast cancer. Aged forty two years.

It was devastating.

*

I was having dinner with Denise at the modest bungalow she and Grace had bought. She reached out her hand and placed her manicured fingers on my hand. She looked straight into my eyes.

"Tom needs a father," she said.

I had always thought that too. There's only so much an uncle could do. I curled my fingers into her palm. I pulled her hand to my lips and kissed her hand.

"Then go and find someone, someone you can love, someone who will be a good father to Tom and marry him." She pulled her hand from mine.

"It's not that easy."

"Who said it was going to be easy?"

"A single woman with a son who's nearly seventeen is not going to find a man that will all of a sudden jump in and become daddy. A single mom with a lesbian history doesn't have a chance in hell."

Of course she was right. For me to try to convince her otherwise would only convince her that I'm either delusional or uncaring.

"Denise, you know I'm here for you. For both of you. But there's only so much I can do."

"You can be a father to him." Her expression was very serious.

"I can be a father figure, but that's about it."

"It's not the same."

"I know it's not."

"Then become his father."

She was being delusional. Certainly irrational.

"When you and Grace decided that you were going to have a baby, you made a conscious decision that the child will grow up with two moms and no dad. You can't reverse that now."

"Yes I can."

"How? Find the Chinese donor? Hey buddy remember me? Guess what, you've got a son."

"Don't be an ass."

I reached out and picked up her hand. "Denise, I know what you have been through. I know how hard this is for you. What more can I do?" She pulled her hand away.

"You can be here for him. You can be here for him when he needs to see with his own eyes, and learn how two people live together and love each other. You can be here for him when he comes home at two in the morning, stoned. You can be here to tell him off when he needs to be told off, to hug him when he needs encouragement. He needs an example. He needs a father. He needs you. I can't do it alone."

Denise erupted in tears. She was completely distraught. Obviously the last few years had taken a severe toll on her. Physically, mentally and emotionally. Did she really say 'two people live together and love each other'? Fuck. She'd gone completely loopy.

Through tear filled eyes, in exasperation she stammered, "Do you even know where Tom is right now?"

"You said he was out."

"Out where?" She sobbed. I didn't answer. "That's exactly my point."

I had no idea where he was. It was after nine on a weeknight. I got her point.

"Denise you're a half sister to me and my best friend, you know I love you dearly. Are you seriously suggesting that I move in here and become your husband too?"

"Why not?" She sobbed.

"You know what nearly happened between us when we lived together."

"Would it have been so wrong?"

"Yes! It's called incest. There are laws against that!"

"We don't have to get married."

"We can't get married!"

"And we don't have to have sex."

"Oh so we'd just be a pretend incestual couple. Mister and Miz Robinson. And how would that work for Tom? First he's brought up by a lesbian couple and then that gets replaced with a pretend incestual couple. Are you fucking crazy?" I was pissed.

She brought her heels up to the chair, wrapped her arms around her knees lowered her head and sobbed uncontrollably.

"What am I supposed to do Rob," she stammered as she cried, "what am I fucking supposed to do?" Her whole face was awash with tears and wet snot.

I just had to let her cry it out. I didn't have an answer for her. I stood up and tugged at one of her arms pits. "Come on, let's go sit on the couch."

We sat down. Her face slumped to my chest as I wrapped my arm around her shoulder. She continued to cry.

"I don't know...where he is right now," she sobbed.

"I'm sure he's fine," I said as I rubbed her shoulder. She continued to sob.

She was a fucking mess. Cancer and single parenthood had really done its damage. I felt so very, very sorry for her. It broke my heart to see her that way.

Maybe she was right. Maybe growing up with mom and Uncle Tom wouldn't be so bad. Probably better than the way things were.

"I'm sorry Denise." I stroked her shoulder and back as she continued to whimper.

Could I even be a father? How could he look up to me as a father or a step-father or whatever the hell I'd be if I didn't have a relationship with his mother? A true loving relationship. Like husband and wife. And how would that work if I didn't have sex with her too?

"No, I'm sorry Tom." She tried to find a tissue in her pocket.

And how could I possibly resist the temptation to have sex with her if we lived under the same roof? Oh don't worry about it Tommy, I've just brought this babe home to fuck tonight. Your mom's totally cool with it. Fuuuuck. Did she have any idea of what she's asking me to do?

She got up to get a tissue.

And how would the rest of the family feel about it? They weren't particularly enamored with the two mom thing. Incest? Great. Thumbs up to that. She really couldn't have thought this through.

She blew her nose and cleared the tears away. "I didn't mean to upset you Tom." She sat down next to me. "I shouldn't have asked. I shouldn't have said anything."

I took a deep breath. "You did. And I'm glad that you did. If that has been on your mind, if that has been bugging you, then I'm glad that you got it out. At least we discussed it."

Her head hung down.

"How long have you been thinking about it?" I asked.

She sighed. I could see her hands trembling. She took a couple of deep breaths. "Ever since Grace went terminal. Maybe even before that."

Tears welled up in my eyes. "That's two years." I stood up. I needed a tissue. On top of everything else she'd kept that bottled up for two years!

"I don't have an answer for you Denise. I have to think about this." When I turned back to look at her, her expression had certainly changed. Maybe it was shock.

"Do you want me to try to find Tommy?"

"No," she said shaking her head a little. "He'll be fine."

"I've got to go home," I said, my head still spinning. I found my jacket. "Thanks for dinner."

There was a half smile on her face. Or a half frown.

"I need to think." I said. I stepped towards her, put my hands on her arms and gave her the customary kiss on the cheek that we always greeted and parted with.

"No. Give me a proper kiss." She looked up straight into my eyes.

I did. And she kissed me back. It wasn't a mad passionate kiss. It was a kiss of desperation. It was a kiss that said 'please'. And it was a kiss that said 'I love you'.

I tossed in bed that night in complete confusion. If she had asked me to donate a kidney, that would have been pretty straight forward. Had I been asked to impregnate Grace years ago, I would have done that too. But to effectively marry her? That was completely nuts.

But I couldn't think of anyone I would rather marry.

My thoughts turned to her big brown eyes, her lovely smile, her Robinson lips, her high cheek bones. The long straight nose that is just like mine. I thought of the way her brown hair fell on her shoulders, of her feminine neck and the sexy nape she has where her neck joins her shoulder. I thought of her slender body, her sexy little breasts, her flat belly, the way the bottom of her rib cage poked out. I thought of the wiggle her hips and bum made and how I had to forcibly push out of my mind how sexy and cute she was every time I saw it. I wondered how her pussy had changed since I'd seen it last, many, many years ago.

I had a hard on.

The next evening I went back to Denise's. Tom was in the basement playing a video game with one of his little stoner friends. We sat on the couch together.

"Denise do you think that you could love me, like you loved Grace?"

She smiled. One tear formed in her eye. She brushed it away with her finger.

"Tom, do you remember when we were kids? Do remember playing pretend?"

"Yeah. Kinda." I wondered where she was going.

"Do you remember what we pretended about? It was my favorite game with you."

"House."

"Yes. We played husband and wife. Mummy and daddy."

Oh yeah. I'd forgotten about that aspect of it. See must have seen something in my face because her demeanor changed.

"I've wanted to marry you since I was a little girl."

I was shocked. "But you're a lesbian."

"Was a lesbian. Was bi-sexual. Now I'm nothing. But that doesn't matter. That doesn't change the fact that I've always wanted to marry you and that I've always loved you."

"But we never could marry!"

"I know that, of course I know that! But that has never stopped me from wanting to. From dreaming that it could possibly happen."

I was suddenly filled with emotion. Tears streamed down my cheeks as if I were a baby. Those were the sweetest words that I'd ever heard. I had to find a tissue and get a hold of myself.

I knew what I had to do and damn to the rest of the world.

I blew my nose and wiped the tears from my eyes. I took two deep breaths and knelt down on one knee in front of Denise. I cupped both of her hands in mine and looked into her eyes. They were wide open. She was either surprised or scared. Maybe both.

"Denise will you?...I don't know what to call it."

"Yes!"

We both burst out into tears as we hugged each other. We laughed and cried simultaneously. She slipped down to the floor next to me and we kissed passionately. We hugged and cried and kissed some more.

"What do we call it Denise?"

"It doesn't matter, it's just the Robinsons' affair."

We hugged and kissed again, tears of joy streaming down our cheeks. Our noses filled.

"Mom! Uncle Tom! What are you doing?"

Tom and his pal were standing in the archway to the living room.

"We're kissing. Uncle Tom and I are kissing. That's what we're doing."

"Why are you crying?"

"Because we love each other. That's why." I answered.

"Cool." They both took off to the kitchen. Tom shook his head as he walked.

"That was easy," I chuckled to Denise.

"I knew it would be," she smiled as she leaned in for another kiss.

*

Sixteen days later, on a sunny Saturday afternoon we gathered in my parent's backyard.

Denise wore a long white dress with a veil. I wore a black tuxedo.

My parents were there, Aunty Lisa and Uncle Jim were there, my brother Dan and his family, Grace's two brothers and her mom, Tom of course and another sixteen friends and family too.

With everyone gathered around we stood facing each other. We held each other's hands.

"Denise Linda Robinson, I declare to you before these witnesses and before God, that I will hold you and cherish you, love you and keep you, for as long as I live.

"Thomas James Robinson, I declare to you before these witnesses and before God, that I will hold you and cherish you, love you and keep you, for as long as I live.

We kissed.

Everyone cheered. Some shed tears.

We had a nice buffet table set up for everyone and a tall white cake with a plastic bride and groom on it. Everyone had a grand time.

Tom went to stay with Dan and his family for the rest of the weekend. They agreed to drop him off at school on Monday morning.

We drove to Niagara Falls.

We rode up the elevator with a couple holding hands, they appeared to be Amish and in love. A distinguishing looking older gentleman stood in the corner of the cab smirking the whole time. We were still dressed in black and white. My knees shook the entire ride. As soon as they were out of the cab Denise asked me, "How are your balls?" The elevator whisked us up to the top floor with the bridal suite.