Would You Rather Hold Your Bride

Stories in this contest can be based around any winter holiday, or even just end-of-the-year festive nostalgia and atmosphere.

This story could be in any of a number of categories. As the sun sets in the west, this is a love story, so I chose this category.

Fair warning. My proofreader, always bubbly and cheerful, simply replied 'Damn you, I cried!'

Please read my profile for my stance on feedback. Feel free to email suggestions or start a conversation. Private messages work too.

Randy Meisner: "I was thinking, about a woman, who might have loved me, and I never knew."

+ + +

My name is John Samuel Pickwick. I'll turn twenty seven next spring. Only my Grandma and wife call me Johnny. My dad, Robert, did too when he was alive. I'm not sure why I'm John, but Samuel was my grandfather's name.

Grandpa fell ill last year and died of a heart attack while he slept. I was very close to him. He had been helping me trying to fix his grandfather's grandfather clock. It still doesn't work but it sits in my living room looking stately. It is so old we finally had to give up attempting to fix the clock. We realized we would need to custom make the broken part. It's on my to-do list.

My parents were born on the exact same day. In one of life's odd coincidences, they died on the same day, twenty two years apart. My mother, Evelyn, was twenty two when she died. Since I was only a few months old at the time, I don't remember a thing about her. Nobody ever spoke about her. Dad died on a deserted stretch of highway. His car left the road and went flying into a tree. He was under the influence but not drunk. They think he may have fallen asleep since there were no skid marks. They were never able to pinpoint why he was on that highway.

My dad, Grandma, and Grandpa raised me at Grandma's place until I was eight. Once dad had finally saved enough, he bought his own place. That's where I still live. The house is your typical suburban setting. It's one of those cookie cutter developments where every third house repeats.

Dad died four years ago, while I was away at college. He was a troubled soul. Dad wasn't prone to say 'I love you', but he would always track me down and give me a nice hug when he got home from work. I can't remember one day when I didn't smell a little whiskey on his breath. However, we never had a single bottle of alcohol in the house. Even though he spent a lot of time at his favorite pub, I really don't think he had a drinking problem. His picture is still on the walls in the pub for each of the years he was the darts champion.

Dad drove a delivery truck and knew just about everyone in town. When he was sick, the neighbors would drop by with soup and elixirs. Dad didn't believe in pain medication so the 'witches brews', as he called them, were the only thing he would take for his ailments. I was not so lucky. If I got sick or was feeling pain he'd whisk me off to the doctor for a shot in my butt. I learned not to complain. Dad loved playing rugby, and I do too. As rough as rugby is, if I complained about an injury he would tease me.

"Let me know what size dress I need to get you Joan."

I don't ever remember us hosting a party. Dad was a loner and had a very small circle of friends. It was unusual for him to date, and rare to date the same women a second time. The attempts to set him up on dates were fruitless.

When dad died Grandma paid for a nice headstone.

"Robert Pickwick -- Evelyn Pickwick

Loving parents of John Samuel Pickwick"

I had never been to my mom's grave until dad was buried.

My degree is in civil engineering. I work for the city on road improvement projects. I really didn't set out to work on roads but was inspired by a few presentations, when I was a college sophomore, at the career day's showcase. I did an internship with the city between my junior and senior years. The timing was perfect as one of the old timers was retiring about the time I graduated.

I married my high school sweetheart, Mary Ann, and we have a four month old son who we've named Robert Samuel.

+ + + +

Mary Ann and I were 'going steady' throughout high school. I messed us up by fucking the girl who was letting everyone screw her. You know how high school boys are, afraid they are going to die a virgin. There were lots of tears. Since I was headed off to college, and Mary Ann wasn't, we just split. We'd say 'Hi' when we ran into each other around the holidays and summer breaks.

I moved home, after I graduated, and about a week later found Mary Ann on my porch.

"I'd still like to see if we have any magic left. That is, if a college boy like you has settled down."

We started the slow process of reconciliation. I learned that Mary Ann had her own place in town. Her father had accepted a job a few hours away. Her parents moved shortly after Mary Ann graduated from high school. Mary Ann was working as a bookkeeper for an apparel shop downtown.

It was pretty clear, after a few dates, that there was definitely good chemistry. She wasn't a virgin, and at college I found myself on the floor more than a few times. We never talked about the details. It was in the past.

All the groundwork had been laid when we were in high school. Our courtship was under six months before I asked her to marry me. We waited a few years before deciding to start a family. Mary Ann worked until ten days before she delivered.

+ + + +

I'm your typical six foot, two hundred pound, out of shape guy. Mary Ann is petite, at around five foot even, and barely one hundred pounds. Her tits are like little pancakes with a raisin on top. Mary Ann is athletic and, being so light, she spins when she rides me cowgirl style.

I'd never experienced that and boy did I like it. Up and down about five times then with just a little help from me she would spin ninety degrees and give me five more. I rarely lasted five times around. If I did I earned a blow job. If I didn't make it around three times, I owed her an oral treat. She's a tiger in the bedroom, and I'm not denied anything. It isn't what you have, it's how you use it.

One of her favorite role play things is for me to sneak up on her in the kitchen, pin her to the counter. I disguise my voice, in a low growl, while I maul her nipples. I can't quite call it a rape fantasy. It's more like a rag doll submissive slave thing. I pick her up and place her face down on the kitchen table where I drill her dripping pussy. On more than a few occasions she has an orgasm.

That little treat was put on hold when Mary Ann became pregnant. As her due date drew near, she looked like a water balloon with legs. She hated the way she looked, and couldn't understand how I could possibly love her when she was so bloated. There was nothing I could say to calm her fears, as she was being ravaged by her hormones. My engineering degree had not prepared me on how to soothe her fragile mindset.

Robert Samuel has me wrapped around his little fingers. I'd do just about anything for him. Mary Ann really enjoys being a mother. We've already planned an addition to the family once Robert's first birthday rolls around. I make enough with my job to easily afford our lifestyle.

Mary Ann is quite self-conscious about her figure. She'd love to have bigger boobs. Since she's breast feeding, they're oversized right now.

+ + + +

There's a guy in the neighborhood that seems to hang around our place. Charlie is fresh out of high school, and doing grunt work when he can find it. He is always asking if we have any tasks he could perform. I find him a little creepy. He's a very big guy at around six five and two fifty.

It was about a week before Christmas when our marriage took a big hit. I arrived home to find Mary Ann sitting on the couch and crying.

"I'm sorry Johnny. I didn't mean for it to happen. I'm sorry Johnny."

"Mary Ann, what are you sorry about? Tell me what happened."

Sobbing while she spoke "I was unloading groceries and one of the bags ripped. Charlie was nearby and started helping me pick things up. Even though I told him I could finish, he carried a few bags into the kitchen. When I turned my back he pinned me to the counter. He said the same things that you do when we play that game. I think he's been peeping on us. I just locked up. I was scared and confused, but couldn't speak. Just like you would do, he put me face down on the kitchen table and I felt his cock enter my pussy. He pumped for a few times and came in me."

"Was it rape? Did you cum too?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't say anything. No, I did not cum. It happened so fast. I was scared."

"You didn't answer me. Was it rape?"

Mary Ann didn't answer. She shook her head NO.

"That's just great. Anytime you get scared you're just going to drop your panties and let strangers fuck you?"

"Johnny, no, it wasn't like that at all. I didn't know what to do, I just froze."

"How about screaming and kicking and scratching, none of those came to mind?"

"Johnny, it was a mistake, I should have done all of those things. I love you. Please don't hate me."

"Why'd you stop fucking him? How many hours did you two have fun?"

"Johnny, it wasn't fun. I was numb. Robert started crying so I broke away, grabbed Robert, and locked myself in the bathroom. I must have taken ten showers since then."

"Too bad our marriage wasn't crying. Maybe you could have saved it. I'm going to stay at Grandma's place for a few days."

"Johnny, no, don't go. I need you. I still want to be married to you. Please don't go. I love you. Please!"

Her tears and pleading weren't going to stop me from leaving. I felt like punching a wall. Nothing in life had even come close to preparing me for a situation like this. I sat with my head on the steering wheel for a few minutes. I glanced at the porch and saw Mary Ann holding Robert and crying. What the hell am I going to do? I started my car and left.

+ + + +

"Hey Grandma, mind if I spend a couple nights here?"

"You're always welcome Johnny. Where's Mary Ann?"

"We're working out some problems. The house looks festive for Christmas."

"Johnny, your eyes tell me it's not a small problem. Tell me."

"She had sex with a guy in the neighborhood. I need time away from her."

Grandma's eyes were instantly red and wet. She just kept saying softly "Oh no, no, no, no."

"I'm headed to rugby practice."

She was still stuck on "no, no, no."

At rugby practice I told my buds what was bothering me. Lots of back slapping and attempts to cheer me up, but I was smarting. A few days later, when we were warming up for our game, some of the guys pulled me aside.

"John, Charlie fell down and, what's this world coming to, he was kicked while he was down. Seems a couple of guys kicked him about 100 times, with steel toed boots. He's at St. Rose. There might never be any little Charlies."

"You guys are the best."

After the game, I went home. Mary Ann started crying and pleading.

"I'm so sorry. I made a mistake. I love you. Please don't leave me. Please."

"I'm not ready to talk."

I picked up a shotgun shell, wrote Charlie on it, and stuffed it in my pocket. I found Charlie's room in the hospital. He had tried to protect his jewels with both hands during the attack. His hands were no match for steel toed shoes on rugby players. Both hands were in casts and he also had lots of machines hooked up. When he saw me his blood pressure started rising, matching his escalating look of fear. I showed him the shotgun shell.

"Charlie, I'm not going to hurt you; today. You see your name on this shell? If I ever find out you've even thought of Mary Ann, the back of your mouth is going to be filled with what's in this little thing. Am I making it clear enough for you Charlie?"

He was nodding yes repeatedly. His blood pressure was setting off alarms as I left the room. I stopped by the pub to drown a few sorrows.

+ + + +

Grandma scolded me when I arrived at her place.

"Johnny, open up your heart. Give her a chance. Don't wait too long. Please!"

"I'm going to need a few more days Grandma."

I gave her a hug and retired for the night. In the morning I found Grandma at the kitchen table with a box of tissues. She had taken down a picture of my dad and was staring at it. It didn't look like she had gotten a full night's sleep.

"You alright Grandma?"

"Holidays are tough. Did you think about what I said?"

"I did. I'm still not ready. See you tonight."

I repeated the night before, headed to the pub, lectured when I got to Grandma's house, and off to bed.

I awoke on Christmas Eve and again found Grandma in the kitchen. She was looking distraught. The box of tissues was empty and she was staring at my dad's picture. I thought I heard her mumbling but I really couldn't tell what she was saying.

"Morning Grandma. Get you anything in town? I'm off at noon today."

"Johnny, did you decide yet?"

"Not yet."

"Open your heart Johnny. It was a mistake, maybe a big one, but a mistake none the less. Do you need me to go over some of the big mistakes you've made? How does this differ from you and that slut in high school? I just hope you don't wait too long. You're just as pigheaded as your father."

"Grandma we're married now. It's different."

"Mary Ann was wearing your promise ring at the time. I'll tell you what's different. It's you having to deal with the sting of betrayal. When it was her feelings, no big deal, but now that it's your feelings, well, that's different? Bull. Don't wait too long Johnny."

She started crying again. I kissed her on the forehead and left.

I ended up at the pub around supper time. Not many here, a few people coming and going. I was feeling really down. Gawd, I really miss Mary Ann and little Robert. I think I've decided what to do. One more swallow of pride. I washed it down with whiskey. I know liquor isn't the answer, but I was pretty sure milk and water weren't either.

"Hey guy" sticking out his hand "you look like I feel. Name's Bobby. I've been watching you for a while. Can I join you?"

I looked up and found a guy about my age, maybe a little younger, with hollow eyes and an emotionless stare. I could smell a little whiskey on his breath.

"Sure. I hadn't noticed you." shaking his hand "Mine's John."

"Let me guess, same as me, cheating wife?"

I nodded.

"Folks live here Johnny? Christmas should be spent with family."

"It's John. Nope, never knew my mom, she died when I was an infant, and my dad died four years ago. How about you Bobby?"

"Well if you're John, I'll be Robert. Still got both parents. I'm living there until I can get this kid raising stuff figured out. Johnny, I found out a few months ago. You?"

"It's John. Last week."

"My lady got a little shitfaced at a party and got shagged. Anyway, she was guilt ridden and broke down a few days later. You?"

"My neighbor forced himself on her but she didn't stop him. She broke down that night."

"Let me guess. I'm so sorry. It was a mistake. I love you. Don't leave me."

"Yep, all of those. Guess there's a script they all follow."

"I tell you Johnny, I was cruel. I made her tell me every last detail. Fucking him, sucking his cock, fucking him again. She was beside herself with grief. I stuck it to her. Told her I would likely divorce her."

"I hear you. I haven't filed yet, but mine's been going crazy thinking I will."

"I should have let up but I couldn't chew and swallow that last bit of pride."

"That's what hurts the most."

"I tell you Johnny, she was an eye full. She worked here as a waitress and guys were always hitting on her. I still carry her picture."

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a think wallet. He knew exactly where the picture was. It was wrinkled but you could tell she was a thing of beauty.

"That was taken a couple of years ago. It's still my favorite."

"You never got back together with her?"

"No, I was too stubborn. She had made a mistake and I would have forgiven her. I just took too long. She wrote me a note and left me. All I've got to remember her is my kid."

He opened his wallet again, fished around, and pulled out a picture with the lady holding the baby.

"I can't believe she left you with the kid."

"We were all shocked. She loved him so much. It made no sense. I can't bring myself to hold the boy. He reminds me of her."

"Robert, that's exactly why you have to hold him. Because he reminds you of her."

He opened his wallet again, fished around, and pulled out an envelope, twice folded. He carefully spread it open. It had a woman's writing on the front 'Bobby'.

He gently extracted the letter and pushed it towards me. She had written using very elegant cursive.

"Bobby, I am so so sorry. I can never forgive myself. I can't live without you. Love, Evy"

His eyes were misty and mine were becoming that way too. You could see the heartbreak in his face.

"Do you ever talk with her?"

"I've tried. My mum is helping me with my kid. Just like you, he'll never know his mum. The boy meant the world to her."

"Don't you think there's a chance of getting back together?"

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a picture. He flashed it at me. It was a picture of a headstone.

"She lives here now. That was her suicide note. She went to her grave thinking I didn't love her. I drop by here every day and drink a spot of courage; then I walk the lonely path to talk to her before heading home."

His voice never varied. The life had already been siphoned out of his soul. I, on the other hand, had never felt worse. My stomach was cramping, my eyes were clouded with tears, and my heart had never felt such pain. He smeared his eyes as he carefully put everything away. I felt so sorry for him. He's about my age and has to live with this the rest of his life, and raise his kid.

"So you've got to ask yourself Johnny. Would you rather hold your bride or stare at her name etched in stone? I know which one I would choose. I just don't have that choice anymore. Merry Christmas Johnny, thanks for letting me bother you."

He turned and headed for the door.

"Merry Christmas to you too Robert. Maybe see you again?"

He didn't look back. He simply put his hand up and waved. I tried to swallow my last sip of whiskey but the lump in my throat prevented it. The tears were streaming down my face. I flagged the waitress down as I started to put on my coat. She was young and I hadn't seen her before.

Handing her a twenty "Is this enough?"

"Let me get you some change sweetie."

"No, keep the change, Merry Christmas."

"Aww, thanks honey. Merry Christmas to you too."

She bent down and picked up something from the floor.

"You must have dropped this."

It was the headstone picture.

"No, the guy I was talking with must have dropped it."

"Sugar, You are mistaken. I've been here since four and there's only been a few people in here. You've been alone all evening."

"No, he was a guy my age. His name is Robert."

She touched my cheek and looked deep into my eyes "Be strong Johnny. You can do this. It's time for you to go home."

She slid the picture to me. I looked at the picture and started shaking.

My head was spinning. My vision was blurred. I looked again to make sure.

'Evy Pickwick

Loving mother of John Samuel Pickwick'

I laid my head on the table. Things were spinning. This can't possibly be true. I took a deep breath and raised up. I looked in my hand and instead of the picture I was holding a drink coaster. My twenty was on the table. I looked around and didn't see the waitress.

I took my twenty up to the bar.

"I tried to pay the waitress. She can keep the change."

"Well sport, I sent her home about an hour ago. No reason to keep her around without any customers. Let me get you some change."