Linda's Legacy - Sex Stories

Linda's Legacy

... man, or as part of a publicly gay couple. He just doesn't have it in him. Don't get me wrong- he doesn't think there's any shame in it. It's just not who he is. In order to feel... complete, I guess, he needs to be married to a woman. He thinks of his relationship with Bryan as a kind of an exception. They're very much in love. It's very sweet to see. And I'm very happy for him, I'm happy for them both. I'm what people used to call a 'beard.' It's very old fashioned. Lesbians and gay men would marry each other and live together to fulfill society's expectations, but they'd have their private lives outside the marriage. Oftentimes, the arrangements were very friendly, even affectionate, even if they never were romantic."

"But, but, then, why do YOU do it? You're not gay, are you?"

"No, dear. I'm not. I'm just a terrible, terrible wife."

"What? How can you say that about yourself?"

"Because it's the truth. I've destroyed every one of my four other marriages by being selfish, insensitive, muleheaded, and even cruel. None of my husbands deserved what they got from me. I took each of them for granted and walked roughshod all over their hearts. That's especially true of your father." A few lonely tears ran down her face along well-traveled tracks. "I still love that man. I always have. I think you know that."

"I... yes, I guess I do. I mean, the two of you don't have much to do with each other. But I think I've seen it over the years."

"Well. You love ...

... Bradley."

"I do."

"Then don't end up like me." She looked up at me. "Don't BE like me. Please." At that point, she broke down crying.

"Mom. I don't understand. Don't be like you? Don't be like what? What's going on?"

After a moment, she stood up. I tried to join her, but she shooed me back into my seat. "I have to go get something. I have to show you. Stay right there."

I heard her rustling around in one of her spare bedrooms. While she was gone, I looked at the screen. It wasn't showing the game, it was paused on a shot of two commentators, handsome men in their late fifties or early sixties. They'd probably been football players themselves, back in their prime years, before their bodies softened and slowly went to seed.

Mom came back with a blue dress in a clear plastic dry cleaning sleeve. It wasn't exactly the same as the one I had on. The cut was completely different, but the skirt was nearly the same length, and the color was almost an exact match.

"I was wearing this the night I ended my marriage to your father. That was almost thirty years ago, now. I don't know why I keep it. Maybe it's to remind me of what a fool I am. Maybe because it takes me back to my time with Jim. Or maybe because it's a nice dress and it made me feel beautiful. I only wore it one other time, on my birthday that year. I ended up making everything worse. Since then, I could never bear to put it on again.

"It was February. The weather had locked the city down. We were snowed in half ...