Incest/Taboo A Wife's Fall

"Betty?" Celine's voice caused me to peer over at my sister. I squealed as I ran over to her throwing my arms around my sister. Since our falling out with our parents, she was the only family I could truly count on; no matter what she has done, Celine is still my sister. The moment Celine saw the result on the test stick, my sister joined in on my mirth as we just bounced around like schoolgirls. Jan soon joined in, not truly comprehending the gravity and joy of what had just transpired.

"Congratulations, Wane." I heard Bill say from behind me. "I know you'll do fine, given the way you are with Jan."

"Thanks, but I am so sticking you with babysitting." I heard Bill's loud chuckle knowing the numerous times he has asked us to watch Jan for him. Not that Wane or I minded, I loved my niece; she was welcomed at our house any time she wanted.

"Oh?! What are you going to tell Mom and Dad?" I saw the concerned look on Celine's face when she asked me that.

"You don't have to wonder; I'm going to do that now," I said, feeling a wicked grin forming on my face. Knowing if they wanted to be in my baby's life, then they were really going to have to kiss my husband's ass, and fucking mean it! Wane might not be able to get enjoyment out of it, but I know I will.

"Jan, go to your room for a bit, okay?" Celine directed in a motherly tone.

"Why?" Jan asked, confused.

"There might be something said that isn't fit for your ears to hear, my little dove." I saw how red Jan's cheeks got when Celine used that pet name she gave her daughter so many years ago before my sister went full-on stupid.

"But when it's over?"

"Then you can come right back out," Celine said with this loving smile on her lips as she knelt before her daughter.

"Okay, but you better promise!" Jan pouted.

"I promise." I watched my sister watching her daughter as she climbed the stairs to her room. Seeing her walk past me and fiercely hug Bill. "I'm so, so sorry that I've been such a fool for so long." I arched an eyebrow at the display. "Thank you for not tossing me out. I know you had every right to, given what kind of a slut I was then. But I promise I will make up the last three years to you and Jan. I'm sorry it's taken me this long to see it." I could tell Wane wasn't moved by it; then again, I knew he wouldn't be. I wondered just how their sessions had been going since that Friday night. "Tell your sister thank you very much! I know without her help, I would have lost Bill and Jan."

"Thank her yourself," Wane said coldly, moving past my sister.

"Did I say something wrong?" Celine asked when she looked back at me.

"They aren't speaking... well; Wane isn't speaking to her right at this moment, so you two still seeing her?" They nodded their answer. "Then, when you see her next, do not mention the baby. I don't think Wane wants her to know just yet."

"Why?" Bill asked, confused.

"Because I don't." Came Wane's answer from the kitchen. I'm sure he was only checking on the chili. I could see that perturbed Bill, but he nodded to me that they wouldn't.

I blew out a breath as Celine sat beside me on their couch in their living room with Wane sitting across from me, and Bill in his recliner like he normally was when he was home after a hard day's work. Celine looked at me silently, asking if I was ready as she held her cell phone in her hand with our parents' contact info displayed on the screen. Nodding my head when I was ready. As usual, Donald, their butler, answered.

"Yes, this is the Mason residence. May I ask whose calling?"

"Hello, Donald," I greeted.

"Oh, young miss, it's so good to hear from you!" I heard the genuine happiness in his voice.

"And you as well, Donald."

"Is there something I can help you with, young miss?"

"I was wondering if my parents were home or not?" I inquired, hoping to get this reveal over with. If they wanted to be in Wane's and my baby's life, then it would be on our terms, not theirs.

"Yes, they're currently in the sunroom as they normally are on a Saturday. Shall I patch you through to them?" A smile formed on my lips, knowing my father had placed a conference speaker phone in there so he could still lounge and read his paper while talking to whomever.

"Yes, Donald, that will be just fine," I nodded, feeling Celine rubbing my back. Knowing the fight that might just be around the corner. Who am I kidding?! This was my parents I'm speaking about, of course, there would be a fight! I'm just glad I had Wane in my corner.

"Very good, young miss, just one moment." My fingers drummed on my legs as I waited for the line to be switched over to it.

"Well, look who is calling?" I heard the arrogant tone of my father coming over the line. "Have you called to apologize for the embarrassment you caused us?"

"Embarrassment?!" My voice rose as my anger flared. "The one that should be apologizing is the two of you!" I looked over when Celine placed her hand on my arm. Silently telling me, I wasn't alone in this. "The two of you have been the embarrassment of my entire marriage with your constant parading men around trying to ruin the best thing in my life!"

"Come now, honey, you know that man won't ever be able to give you the finer things in life." My blood was boiling in my veins at the blatant disrespect from my mother.

"You will address my husband by his name! Do you understand me?"

"Betty, relax, I don't give a shit what your whoremonger of a father and slut of a mother thinks of me. Their opinions of me hold as much weight as a dog turd found on the sidewalk does." I looked up when Wane's voice filled my ears. There was that cold, emotionless expression that told me what he said was true.

"How dare you!"

"Oh, stuff it, you dried up old bag," Wane retorted, taking me along with my sister by surprise. Not one of us has ever heard Wane talk like that to our parents. "Do you think I don't know every single thing about the two of you? Of course, I do. You get used more than a crusty old sock on a teenage boy's floor." I looked over as Bill balled out in laughter in his chair.

"Don't you dare speak to my wife..."

"Tell me the lie that I spoke; we all know it's true, so you can jam it up your ass, you old windbag. Your sanctimonious attitude is quite tiring. At least your slut of a wife doesn't hide who she is, unlike you, trying to come off as morally superior to everyone you meet. You're as bad if not worse than she is." I just stared at my husband; my jaw hung agape at the words he just said as Bill's laughter continued to fill the air. "But do go on thinking you two are so above me." I heard the sarcasm in Wane's voice. "Now, shut up and listen to what my wife has to tell you, and trust me if you don't do what she says. Well... I'm sure those smooth brains of yours can figure it out." I saw Wane's wave as he gestured for me to continue. I've never heard my father sputter like he was doing at that moment.

"You two listening?" I asked, not really waiting for them to answer. "I'm pregnant, and it is Wane's baby," I said, more for Wane's assurances than theirs.

"Pregnant!" I heard my mother gasp.

"Yes, Mom, I'm pregnant, so you two better get used to the idea of me and Wane being together for a very damn long time because I am never leaving him! Do you fucking understand?!" I shouted. "All the blatant disrespect you levy towards my husband ends now. You will crawl on your knees and kiss my Wane's ass so damn hard it shines, or you can forget ever, and I mean ever, seeing your grandchild. Do I make myself clear?" My chest heaved as my anger fueled my words.

"Now you just wait one damn minute, Bethany," my given name, "I will not have you speaking like..."

"Shut the fuck up, Dad! You are just as bad as Mom is. Those are my terms, and they are not negotiable. Am I not clear enough for you?" I asked, laying into my father. "I will not have our child fucked up like you have done with Celine and me. If you want to be in his or her life, you know what you have to do, until then, have a nice life," I said, cutting off the phone before either one of them could answer.

"Crusty old sock!" Bill howled in laughter as his hand beat on the armrest of his chair. "Yeah, that is a good one; I'll have to remember it. Sorry, Celine, you know it's true." Hearing my sister sigh then mutter, 'True.' "Shit the cornbread!" Bill exclaimed as the timer went off on the oven.

"Jan, baby, you can come down now!" Celine called up the stairs for her daughter as I moved to join my husband's side.

I smiled lovingly at Wane as I took his hand in mine as I sat down next to him. Now, whatever happens with my parents that's on them, if they want to be in our lives they know what they have to do, if not, well... I'll be sad, but I have to think of our baby's welfare first and foremost.

"Wane? I don't think this is done yet." I bumped Wane's shoulder, nodding for him to go handle it. I bit my lip as my eyes fell on his ass as he walked towards the kitchen.

"Ah, put it in for another ten, it's starting to pull away from the sides, you're oven my be older than mine is. Could be why." I heard Wane say as I heard Jan's feet on the stairs. I saw how my sister fought back the tears as Jan snuggled up to her on the couch. I knew Celine was so adamant about getting back into her daughter's good graces she would have walked through broken glass on her knees for a mile if that was what it took. I wondered if I would look like that holding my child to an onlooker. "Yeah, that's reduced down pretty well; it shouldn't be too long before it's done. You got a small bowl around here?" I knew Wane didn't like grease in the chili; he said it gives it a funny taste if you have leftovers.

"We do; give me a minute." I smiled at Jan, who smiled back when we gazed at one another. "So, what's the bowl for?"

"To skim the grease off the top. Unless you like grease?"

"Ah. I understand."

"You going to be okay, sis?" Celine asked when she looked at me.

"Think so, my stomach has settled down, and I'm not missing out on that chili," I stated firmly.

"Is it really good, Aunt Betty?" Jan asked, seeing how she's never had Wane's chili before I could understand her hesitation.

"Oh, yes," I nodded vehemently, "your Dad and Mom had two bowls of it when they had it. Your Aunt Maggie had three and a lot of the cornbread." I pressed my lips together as I heard Jan's stomach rumbling in agreement.

With my husband instructing Bill on what to do, Celine, Jan, and I set about setting the table for our lunch. Watching how Wane showed Bill how to get the cornbread out of the cast iron pan while we made drinks for everyone.

"My mother likes to fry some bacon in it first, then chop it up, add the bits to the batter, and use the grease to keep it from sticking to the pan. I think that's a little too much grease if you ask me, but I can't deny its damn good." I heard Wane say as he used another plate to flip it right side up.

The moment I took a bite of that chili, it reminded me of the years that Wane and I had shared that same meal. I noted how Jan was apprehensive at first. Seeing how she looked up at Wane as he sat beside her. Encouraging her, urging her to try it once if she didn't like it, she didn't have to finish it.

"Honey, we have to make this a weeknight meal," Celine said from around her napkin as she sat beside her husband while Bill sat at the head of the table.

"I planned on it, now that I know how to make it." I simply just smiled at Wane, wondering if he realized that he might have just helped bring Bill and Celine closer. "Just don't expect me to have 'em fancy knife skills Wane has," Bill joked as he dipped his cornbread into his chili. "Go on, Jan, it's good, I promise." The moment the spoon touched Jan's lips, I knew she was hooked.

"Is it good, honey?" Celine asked, causing Jan to nod vigorously as she chewed. "Try dipping the cornbread in it; it's really good."

"Do you have to go?!" Jan whined as Wane, and I readied to head home after our lunch, where I'm sure he planned on calling his parents and informing them about the news.

"They do, honey, remember they came here first before going home. I'm sure they have a lot of unpacking to do," Celine said, peering down at her daughter.

"Thanks again for showing me how to make that; your mother is one hell of a cook," Bill praised, holding out his hand to Wane.

"She is," Wane replied in agreement as he shook Bill's hand. I heard Wane huff as Jan barreled into him, hugging him hard. Recounting what Jan had said to him before we left on our trip.

"I love you, Uncle Wane. Thank you for teaching Daddy how to make chili; it was really good!" Jan said, beaming up at him. I gently rubbed his back, knowing no matter Wane's difficulties in life, I knew Jan would always love him.

"Ditto, munchkin," Wane uttered, returning Jan's smile; I knew it was fake. Yet Jan didn't need to know that. Maybe when she's older, she will be able to understand why Wane could never return her affection.

"Call me tomorrow, we'll go window shopping for the baby. It's never too early to prepare," Celine said softly as she hugged me, seeing Bill nodding in agreement. "And for maternity clothes, you do want to feel comfortable when your back is killing you, and you feel bloated."

"I'll take your word for it, sis," I said, slipping my hand into Wane's. Feeling so content at that moment as I stood before and beside the most important people in my life. I knew Celine wanted to say something to Wane, but Wane just opened the door and led me out of their house. I knew Wane was never going to accept what she did. I did hope that someday he would put it behind him. Nevertheless, only time will tell.

~~~Wane~~~

Roughly eight months had passed since the news that Betty was pregnant. Yes, the prenatal paternity test did show that I was the father. I have to admit, I've never seen my father faint before; if I could feel amusement, it would have been funny when I, with Betty sitting beside me, informed my parents that Betty was with child. My mother and father, when he came to, were elated at the news. Well, my mother went on and on about how this was going to be her first grandbaby as she clapped away, bouncing in her seat. They came down two weeks later to spend the week with us. My mother, Grace, helped Betty around the house when her morning sickness got to her.

My father, Bruce, helped me to clear out the spare room that used to be mine when I was a kid; we had turned it into a storage space, and what was in there went into a real storage unit until we could afford to buy a shed to place it in without the extra cost when the baby was born. They had brought along the old crib that Margaret and I once used, telling me that it should be used for the next generation of Carters. I didn't understand, but I wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth, as the saying goes. When we informed them of the news, my parents couldn't understand why I told them not to tell Maggie about the baby. At the time, I didn't want her to know. I wanted to irk her so much after the stunt she had pulled, and keeping her in the dark would do just that.

The fruits of my plan bore its harvest a little over a month after my parent's visit. It was my day off; by then, I worked all the overtime I could to squirrel away money for when the baby was born. I was in the middle of painting the baby's room a soft blue; I just had a hunch, when there came a pounding on my front door. I was not surprised to see my sister standing there when I opened the door, mad as Hell. I sometimes wonder if I'm losing out on what enjoyment feels like when my sister glared angrily at me as I just stood there. I have been avoiding her calls; I know Betty sometimes talks to her, she informs me when Maggie does.

"Really! I had to hear it from Mom?!" Maggie screamed at me as she stood on my porch.

"Hear what?" I asked, playing dumb. It seemed Maggie did not like that response. This would have been so much fun if I could feel something as I recounted that day.

"Don't you fucking play dumb, Wane! You know damn well what I mean!" I looked down as my sister poked me in my chest. Like I said, she's emotional, hence why she's a sociopath and I am not.

"Do I?" I asked with a cocked eyebrow. It seems my sister was not amused as she crossed her arms in a huff.

"You going to let me in or what?"

"Hadn't thought about it; the last time you were here, you pulled some shit in my own goddamn house. So you'll forgive me if I'm apprehensive about letting you in," I stated in a calm tone; I am very calm, maybe too calm for some people. She actually appeared hurt when I said that. I wondered if sociopaths could feel hurt. I'll have to look that up.

"Wane, please, you know why I did that. Come on, you can't just leave me out here?!"

"Actually, I can, and I will," I stated, slowly inching the door closed. Only to feel her hand striking the front of the door, stopping me. "Yes?" I mused as I opened the door once again. "Is there something else I can help you with?" I asked; I was being an ass. I know I didn't care.

"Don't get smart with me, Wane! Suppose you think I don't know about your little secret, you'd be wrong. In that case, I'm sure you don't want me out here mouthing off to anyone and everyone that will listen about how you had a hand in those two murders a few months back, now do you? I'm sure that big titty bitch will just be dying to know about it." I wondered if she thought threats actually worked on me.

"It'll be your word against mine; all they'll see is a disgruntled sister shut out of her brother's life while I am a respected blood splatter analyst who has worked in the department for the past four years. So go ahead, let's see who they believe," I taunted, throwing her words back at her. I really wish I could take enjoyment out of what had transpired that day. Alas, I cannot, so you'll just have to live it for me. I could see how that irked her just as I thought it would.

"Wane," I watched as she took a deep breath, "please let me in; I did say I was sorry. I just had to know, okay?! You know how I am. You are a very rare man with your condition. I had to know if it was real or not. Are you really going to keep me away forever?"

"I'm thinking about it," I admitted.

"What do I have to do to make it up to you?" I felt a devious smile forming on my lips, knowing my sister was not going to enjoy this.

"Go out in the front yard, take off your shirt, twirl it over your head, repeating this phrase, I'm a pushy little bitch three times as you hop on one foot in a circular motion. If you do that, I might let you in." I do not think my sister was expecting me to say that as her jaw dropped.

"You can't be fucking serious?!"

"As you well know, I'm very matter-of-fact in what I say."

"There is no way I am showing off my tits to the whole damn neighborhood!"

"Interesting. You're more worried about your tits being on display than appearing as a fool given your so-called acclaimed status as a doctor," I uttered, putting the word doctor in air quotes.

"Ugh! It's like talking to a brick wall!"

"I'll take that as you've had many sessions with a few of them?"

"Wane, please, I'm tired; I drove all this way, please, show me some mercy here?!"

"If you're a doctor as you say you are, then you would know mercy isn't in my makeup," I stated, watching my sister hang her head. "Why did you come anyway? No one invited you? Do you make it a habit of showing up at people's doors uninvited?"

"I came to see the baby, as well as you and Betty."

"You're like seven months too early for that; I would have thought a doctor would know that," I mused, tapping my chin.

"Wane, don't make me have to pull out the big guns." I heard the warning in the tone of her voice, which would mean my parents.

"Fine, you big ol' whiner, if you're going to be like that, you might as well come in," I said, stepping to the side.

After that, well, I put my sister to work painting the baby's room. If she thought she would sit on her ass after showing up uninvited, she was dead wrong. As the months passed and our baby grew inside of her, we did still see a marriage counselor. Just because we were having a baby did not mean our troubles were over. Sure, they were progressing, but I still had trouble trusting Betty. I suspected she picked up on it. I don't know how that woman can read me so well, but she can, which is odd, given that my own parents cannot. However, I wasn't about to go looking into it. In reality, I had far more important things to worry about than that at the moment.

Somehow the picture of Betty's ultrasound found its way to her parents. In the middle of Betty's sixth month of her pregnancy, we received some very curious visitors to our house. I was putting together the baby changing table that we had picked up from Ikea. I have to admit I do not know how normal people put together something from them and not lose their shit. I know Betty was so frustrated with the instructions that she gave up on it. I couldn't blame her; they might as well be hieroglyphs for all the good that booklet was. When I walked into the front room of the house when she called for me. I was not expecting to see Betty's parents kneeling on my porch with their hands folded as if in prayer. Begging me to forgive them for what they had done. I glanced at Betty, wondering if they knew that was impossible for me. I can still feel their lip imprints on my ass to this day, as disturbing as that sounds.

As the day that our son was to arrive drew close. I asked my Captain if I could stay at the precinct just in case I got the call that Betty was on her way to the hospital. My Captain was very understanding, even if that meant I had to do some extra work to cover those that covered for me out in the field. I didn't mind. Betty was my sole focus. I would rather be there than at some crime scene, possibly an hour from the hospital. I was not going to let my wife go through the birth of our child alone. I'm sure you're wondering what happened to Holly during all of this. She transferred to the State police department. I heard a rumor it was because her husband found out about her extra-marital affairs, and she had to skip town to save face. I know Betty was overjoyed when I told her about it. I did hear Betty mutter: take that, you fucking bitch! Wane will always be mine! When she walked into the kitchen to refill her glass. So when the day came, as much as I don't like Celine, I was happy if a man like me could be happy that she was with Betty at the time when her water broke. I didn't hesitate; I grabbed my gear and bolted for the elevator. I heard my Captain's encouraging words trailing after me.

Our son, Conner, was born at seven o'clock the next morning after eighteen hours of labor. He had Betty's hair color and my eyes; I wonder if my son inherited other traits of mine. He is a very quiet baby, maybe too quiet when the others around him were crying; it didn't seem to affect him, or was that because Conner couldn't hear them, to begin with? I couldn't answer that at the moment. However, I will be on the lookout if he does inherit my disorder. I wasn't about to let my son be chased down like a dog the way other psychopaths were. If I could survive in this world, so could my son. Although, I did hope that Conner was only deaf and not like me. It would make his life a whole lot easier. Not that I wished my son was deaf, I just knew from experience going through this life with what I have would not be easy on him if it turns out to be true. Looking down as Jan, now at the age of eight, slid her hand into mine as we gazed into the nursery.

~~~Betty~~~

Four years have passed since the birth of our son, Conner. I know Wane was very worried about Conner's lack of auditory stimuli when he was younger. So we had him tested. I was heartbroken when I held our baby, who was a toddler at the time, in my arms as the doctor gave us the news. Our baby, our sweet Conner, had acute hearing loss. If it wasn't for Wane and that detached mind of his, I would have broken down in a fit of sobbing. While Conner would be able to hear with the use of hearing aids, which we did get for him, I did find Wane hunkered down at the computer doing something with his hands.

One day when Conner was two and Wane had the day off. I found my husband and our son on the living room floor. Conner's laughter filled the air. I do love the sound of my son's laughter; it's just so infectious. My eyes widened when I recognized my son's hand gestures when he was speaking with his father. I wondered why he wasn't talking. I knew he could; we have taught Conner how to speak vocally. I could see Conner was wearing his hearing aid. Yet, the two of them chose to speak in sign language. I wondered just when Wane learned how to sign and when he taught our son?! Also, why he didn't include me! Oh, I will fix that soon enough, I assure you. So that night after I had put Conner down for the night I demanded Wane teach me sign language. It wasn't fair that the two of them could converse like that and leave me out! I wanted to be that close with our baby as well!

It did take a while for me to get the hang of sign language. Yet, I was determined to master it. It had also taken two years for me to win Wane's trust back. It was a very hard long road. One that I was not about to travel down ever again. However, the day I did, I had woken up; Wane had already been up, given that I could hear him feeding Conner. I looked over to where I have always placed the necklace that held Wane's wedding ring, the 'Scarlet letter' of my fall. Only to find that gold band missing from the chain.

I franticly looked around for it, thinking it somehow fell off when I took it off last night. Once my mind cleared enough from its fright at the thought of losing his wedding band, I realized the clasp of the chain was secured to the other end like I had left it the night before. Then the realization hit me, I didn't care if I was only in a bra and panties. I raced out of our bedroom and barreled into my husband. Madly kissing him all over, lavishing that finger with my sweet kisses when I saw it adorning Wane's finger. I slapped Wane's chest when Wane gave our son the sign that I've gone loco.

I knew Wane also worried that our son had inherited his disorder. I don't know if it's too early to test Conner for it yet. Nevertheless, I have seen Conner displaying a wide range of emotions that I know my husband had trouble comprehending. I knew that was a relief to him.

Now, as Wane and I celebrate our eighth wedding anniversary surrounded by the people who have come into our lives. Made each one of us a better person, except for Wane; he was the exception. I can't help but marvel at how easily this could have all gone to shit. That I could be some divorced woman, spending her night out trying to find the connection I had destroyed if it wasn't for my husband. It was through him that I was able to rise from the ashes of my folly. It was through him that I got another chance to be the wife Wane deserved. I still can't believe how foolish I had been then, seeking something when I already had the best that this life could offer me.

Leaning over, placing a kiss on top of Conner's head, praying that he would never have to experience what I had put his father and our marriage through. I felt a hand on my swollen stomach. Yes, I am pregnant again, and no, it isn't someone else's child. Placing my hand over Wane's, knowing that our daughter would be born in a little over four months. The only man I am a slut for is Wane; no matter how kinky, how depraved it is, I will never deny my husband as long as it doesn't harm our baby.

Now I leave with this message and warning before I return my attention to the guests who had traveled from so far away to attend this party of ours. If you are thinking of cheating, either you be a man or woman, ask yourself. What if it was your spouse about to do what you're about to do? What if you go through with it? What happens when you're caught like I was? Can you handle the hurt, the grief, the sneers, the repercussions of what you're about to do? Do you wish to be divorced and lose everything you worked so hard for? Because you will be found out in the end, they might not be able to overlook what you have done. They might not even give you that option; they may, like my husband has constantly seen at his job, mur*er you and leave you in your own pool of blood. Sure, it might be fun while in the middle of the act, but afterward, you are no better than my parents. I might have fallen, but I strived to repent for my sins. Can you say the same thing?

"Uncle Wane, come dance with me." I gazed up from my husband's hand as my now twelve-year-old niece spoke. As I watched Jan leading Wane through the crowd, I knew there was no place I would rather be.