He was Always the Wife
Dean and Jerry
Almost safe for work (this fic contains sexual content in dialogue and a fade to black honeymoon)
Summary: (1,726 words in progress) An alternate universe where Dean and Jerry get married in the late 40′s.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY KAYLA!!!!!
My very good friend Kayla inspired this fic from a dream she had so I dedicate this to her on her birthday :)
I swallowed the lump in my throat and set my suitcase down while taking a drag from my cigarette. Betty was watching television with a drink in her hand. “I’m leaving.”
“Where to,” Betty asked without looking at me.
“Jerry’s.”
“What for?” Betty’s eyes glanced over in my direction and grew wide when she noticed the suitcase.
“Things haven’t been working out here.” I blew out a puff of smoke.
“I can make sure dinners on the table every night. I know I’ve let things go a little bit but that’s just because of the baby.”
“It’s nothing you did, Betty. Our marriage hasn’t been right for a while.”
Betty took a drink. “I let you fuck anything in a skirt no questions asked and don’t so much as ask you for a phone call when you’re on the road. Sounds like a pretty good fucking marriage to me. When do I get to pack a suitcase? What’s it gonna be Dean? You gonna play bachelor with Jerry and bag broads two at a time while you leave me here to deal with everything that’s hard.”
“I’m not playing anything with Jerry.” I took a deep breath. “Staying here is taking the easy way out. I’m not staying at Jerry’s... I’m leaving you... for him.”
The realization hit Betty’s eyes and she moved from the couch to standing directly in front of me. “I can’t believe I expected more from you. Bastard!” Her hands hit my shoulder and head like all the other times I fucked up. “You’re disgusting.” It felt different this time because it wasn’t about me being with a broad. I half expected her to say what my mother said. Each little slap might have well been a punch to my gut.
“You’re running off with our babysitter, the former cheerleader. Does he wear the uniform for ya too?”
I had never thought about it like that before. Jerry was a cheerleader in high school but that was before I met him.
“He still wears the Irvington sweater sometimes…”
Betty hit me good on the arm again.
“That’s why you called me disgusting? It’s not because of...you know?”
“I said anything in a skirt, didn’t I? I’ve always known he wanted to shake his pom-poms for ya’ I just thought he had more respect for himself. Whether boy or girl if they’re with you they’re getting fucked. You can expect a divorce from me the day you knock him up.”
“Please, Betty. I’m trying to do the right thing here.”
“The right thing is abandoning your children so you can go fuck a twenty-two year old? Yeah, I guess that would be the right thing to you.”
“We’re not just fuckin’ around. Jerry’s different. It’s-it’s…” My chest collapsed as I tried to say the words. It was all too familiar. My throat closed up and my tongue felt swollen and too big for my mouth. During the tense, awkward moments with Jerry when he asked about how I felt I could control my shaking hand but not this time.
“Well spit it out.”
“I love him!” I didn’t hear my mother’s voice. My lungs didn’t feel like I was drowning. I could finally breathe. Like the day I realized that was how I felt. The feeling was too strong. I couldn’t cover it up or brush it aside like any other emotion. The more I ran from it, the more it felt like the walls were closing in. When I said the words and faced my true biggest fear I finally knew what freedom was.
Betty’s face had changed. She no longer looked like she was ready for a verbal fight. “I need another drink.” Her voice sounded defeated. I watched her grab the bottle and fill her glass to the brim. She set it down and locked eyes with mine. “Get out!”
I didn’t think Betty ever wanted to see me again after that. Her relationship with Jerry smoothed things over. She always liked Jerry and probably secretly wished I was more like him. I didn’t have to knock up Jerry for her to sign the divorce papers.
We talked later.
“I think I always knew about you.”
“Really?” I tried to hide my anxiety. My whole life I tried not to stand out. I tried to be like ordinary men that didn’t have a secret. The thought of somebody seeing through my carefully crafted act terrified me.
“When we had sex I felt you inside me but you weren’t there.”
“Oh... I must have had other things on my mind,” I took a nervous sip from my drink.
“Could it be any woman who looked good on your arm and give you children? Was I just the first to come along that filled that criteria?”
I spoke quietly, “it was about more than that.”
“Was it? Half of our marriage you were gone. We lived in separate states. We lived separate lives. You kept me hidden away and only brought me out when you needed me when it was convenient.”
I swallowed and wiped my mouth trying to form thoughts that made sense. “I...don’t have any answers, Betty. It happened how it happened and we got four kids out of it. You don’t regret that right? Look, I liked you. I still do.”
Betty smiled weakly and looked away. “A Catholic woman doesn’t take divorce lightly.”
“I’m so grateful to you for doing this, honestly. Me and Jerry could never thank you enough.”
“I did it because I know you love him. You walk in the room and you know Jerry loves you. I could practically feel it in the air. Please, don’t hurt him.”
“I could never. You should see me when he has a stomachache. I fall to pieces when that boys in pain.”
“It’s easy to say that before even the honeymoon. I remember all the things you said to me. All the fairytales told with that movie star smile. He believes in the magic of Dean Martin. Loving you is killing me but that boy—if you do to him what you did to me it will destroy him. There won’t be anything left.” Betty took more than a sip from her drink. “If you do one thing in your life, Dino Crocetti, let it be that you don’t punish another person for loving you.”
I was a nervous wreck at the wedding but no one saw it. Cary Grant and Randolph Scott were the only celebrity couple to do this and neither were Italian! Italians didn’t do this. I had no example to look to. Betty showed and brought the kids too. I was grateful because my family wasn’t there. Plain and simple my mother declared I wasn’t her son anymore. Jerry’s parents weren’t there either. They claimed they had a gig they couldn’t get out of. I don’t think they were upset Jerry was marrying a man, more like he wasn’t marrying a Jewish man. I looked over at Jerry and he was trying his best to wear a mask but I always knew. It’s likely he wasn’t surprised at all. His parents missed every major event in his life besides his birth. He was better off not having them here to subtly tear him down and I was better off not having my mother here calling me the bride. We both waited behind the doors. It was my idea. I didn’t want to wait. I wanted him by my side. We clasped hands as the music started to play. This is what I wanted us holding hands, not for a bit or a musical number and all eyes on us. I wanted to do this so bad in the beginning and after this, I could do it anytime I wanted. When we got to our places I couldn’t hear anything. I was too focused on the kiss. As a little boy, I didn’t dream of kissing the groom. Maybe Jerry did. It wouldn’t surprise me if he saw all of this happening. He always made us seem so easy. Frank handed me the rings. We hadn’t known each other very long but I knew him well enough to know he would have thrown the fit of the century if I didn’t ask him. Tony was Jerry’s best man and I tried my best to ignore him. I couldn’t believe how delicate Jerry’s ring finger was. It’s amazing I could even get mine on my fat finger. It was time for the kiss. My heart thudded in my chest. I looked at Jerry’s lips, leaned forward and shut my eyes. When I opened them our new life began.
I marveled at the gold band and softly kissed Jerry’s ring finger. He looked at me through his lashes and he resembled the boy I knew him as when he was just sixteen. Back when we were only friends and I didn’t understand my need to be with him every minute of the day and why it felt so good for him to call me Paul—my middle name—one no one used except for him. I ran my thumb across his bottom lip. I was fascinated by those lips. I had kissed them a thousand times over the years we knew each other but only hours ago when he became my husband it felt like the first time. Not the very first time when he kissed me as he kissed all his other friends. But like when he looked at me differently and I felt how soft his lips were against mine and knew I wanted more. Jerry’s mouth opened wide reminding me he wasn’t that sixteen-year-old boy anymore. “Close your mouth,” I whispered and gave him an innocent kiss. His neck was what I was after. I didn’t have to be careful anymore. I could taste his skin and make him call out ‘Paul’ over and over and if someone overheard who cares? I could bite and leave marks that everyone would see. That’s when it hit me. We were in bed and soon nothing would be between us like we had done one hundred times before but the reason it felt so damn new was that he was finally mine and no one could ever tell me I couldn’t do more than kiss those lips.