Mild conversation of a sexual nature. (PG)
My Darling Love
Chapter 2 – The Darling Family
"Like all the best families, we have our share of eccentricities, of impetuous and wayward youngsters and of family disagreements." -Queen Elizabeth II
George Darling was born the fourth son of Frederick IV and Josephine Darling. He was nicknamed "The Accident," because after having three sons already, Mr. Darling was content and finished having children. But after having three sons, Mrs. Darling wanted a daughter, so then came George. His three older brothers were quite accomplished, all doctors, all heads of their own practices, each in a different field. None of them were married, and their mother was very pleased that no young lady had ever "sunk her claws into them" and took them from her home, for, as she said herself, "A man can never trust a woman when they are at the age where marriage is expected."
Mr. Darling, on the other hand, was proud of his surname, and wanted heirs to maintain his lineage. That and that alone was the only reason why George and his mother were forced to attend afternoon tea with the Bakers. "Josephine Darling, you will put on your coat and escort my youngest son to the Baker home for afternoon tea as it is unlikely George will be brave enough or have enough good sense to use his tongue and make a formidable impression on Mr. Joseph Baker's lovely daughter."
George was the youngest and the least accomplished. He was only a clerk at a bank with no further aspirations of advancement. He was educated, but too serious with money and too resolute on not taking risks to be considered for a promotion. He arrived to work early, the same time, everyday. He ate his lunch at his desk and left at exactly quarter after six o'clock, after the bank closed and all of his balance sheets balanced. To the penny. No one there noticed him and no one talked to him, and that was fine with him. His sheets of stocks and bonds were always correct and as far as he was concerned that was good enough. If he had a more social personality and been willing to suggest riskier investments, he might have gotten a promotion, but he felt small talk was unimportant, and risky investments were bad business, thus accepting his fate in the second row, fifth desk in.
At home, he handled all his family's wealth, investing his father's cash as well as his brothers'. He was conservative with funds and would not put money where he felt there was even the slightest risk for loss. Therefore, the Darlings were not as well off as they might have been, but held good solid investments in slow-growth companies, all the same.
George was easily the most handsome of his brothers, although his mother told him he was the least attractive: "You are pale-faced and thin-lipped, George, with a very weak build, not to mention your hair. You will probably be bald by the time you are thirty and I must tell you, George, I've heard many women speak of you and they do not find your looks desirable." And for that reason alone, he was very shy. His visit to Mary's home was the first he had ever called on a young lady, and he was to be twenty-five in July. Thus, he was also the least experienced socially of all his other brothers, and that was fine with him as well.
Each brother had courted girls when their education or business took them elsewhere away from their mother, but none of them had ever been asked to gentleman's home exclusively to meet a daughter, rumored as exquisite as Mary. Nor would they be allowed to go even if they had been invited, for Mrs. Darling would not hear of it. So, after only his first afternoon at the Bakers', his brothers greeted him upon his return with "Is she as beautiful as we've heard?"
"Mary is the most...her loveliness is just...her face is so...you've never seen anyone so..." Words escaped George and he stuttered to a halt, giving up the attempt to describe what he felt was indescribable. Just as Mary loved him from afar, he too felt the same with several unique differences: George had never been educated as to how to conduct a proper conversation in polite society, a necessary skill for gentlemen of his age.
The only advice his mother gave in that regard was, "In order to talk a woman George, you must know what they are thinking." He reasoned with his own irrefutable logic, "If I am unable to speak with them until I know what they are thinking, how will ever know what they are thinking unless I speak with them?" Therefore, George feared he would embarrass himself by proclaiming anything, let alone love, knowing surely that Mary would never accept someone with his disposition and unappealing appearance. In the company of all women, he was silent, the victim of his own miserable self-image (just as his mother wanted).
Mary had matured in body, but not so much in mind. A child at heart, her dreams never extended to money or expense. She knew she would marry George, and it was only a matter of time before he proposed, "Perhaps tomorrow evening, I shall wear my white blouse and navy blue skirt." In a whimsical way, just like a special outfit in which to receive his ring, she made babies in her mind and decorated her home in the lavish furnishings she saw in a store window on her way home from the grocer.
George Darling was the polar opposite. He too was mature in body, but, unlike Mary, who never thought of grown up things, George was already very mature in mind. Realizing the standard of living a young lady of moderate means could expect, he was the one who sat down at his desk and plotted out the expense of raising those babies and supporting that home. Even though he was sure a wedding to Mary Baker was highly unlikely and foolish to even wish for, he worked on the figures well into the night by candlelight, while the rest of the house was asleep. It was those very pages of notes, where he calculated the savings of cutting out coffee at the office and meat for dinner on Tuesdays and Fridays, that his mother found. And because of those notes, she demanded that he "Break off the courtship with that golddigger immediately, George! A woman should live within her husband's means, and I will not have my youngest son sacrifice his coffee at the office so his wife can run up bills at the dressmaker!"
So, as he had his whole life, his mother's declaration being considered from God Himself, he accepted her demands. He told Mr. Baker he would not return. More so, could not return. "I'm so terribly sorry, sir, but my mother thinks it best if I do not court a young lady born into a family with wealth such as yours. I am only a bank clerk, surely my salary is not enough to support the life of which she is worthy."
Mr. Baker thought Mrs. Darling a fool, her family having far more money in the bank. But, just the same, he appreciated George's honesty in not depriving Mary of other suitors.
While Mary sat, shoulders drooping, at her vanity, George sat at his desk, and both endeavored to forget the names of the children and everything else they both had created in their hearts with one another. Mr. and Mrs. Baker, later on in bed, discussed their spinster daughter, who was to turn eighteen in May, with grave concern and distress, "Perhaps we give people the impression that we are very wealthy, and Mary will be too demanding of a wife..."
Blocks away, Mr. and Mrs. Darling sat in their bed and argued about yet another bachelor son stuck at home. "I expect at least one of my sons to get married this year," shouted the elder Mr. Darling, " and carry on my proud name, and I will beat you until you are dead, woman! Do not interfere with my sons again!"
Aunt Millicent was in bathtub, scheming about which young, rich, unattached gentleman was going to swoop down and win Mary's heart, rescuing her from moderate means.
In the morning, when George came down for breakfast, he found his mother sitting with an angry scowl on her face staring at nothing. Her eye was bruised, most likely from the impact of Mr. Darling's fist upon it the night before when she told him again that their oldest son should marry before the youngest. "You should accept our eldest son that is fifteen years older than George and will NEVER get married because of you!"
George nodded to his brothers already present at breakfast when Mr. Darling entered with his paper and sat down. The senior Mr. Darling was a tall man who had an imposing build, with same receding hairline he had had since he was twenty-one, proof George would not be bald, for his father was well over sixty and had been married for forty years with four sons. He ruled his house, his sons and his wife with the iron fist of discipline, and was just as violent with his fists with his family as he had been collecting outstanding debts owed to the Savings & Loan he had recently retired from.
"Now George, your mother told me that you are not to see Mary Elizabeth Baker again, but I think it would be best if you continue the courtship. I will see at the very least one of my sons get married" here he glared at the other three "and give me grandchildren with my last name before I am dead. She is by far the loveliest young lady and a fine choice for a wife. Her family is not one I would call wealthy, and I think your mother was in error to say that Mary would need a finer standard of living than the one she herself now enjoys. All window dressing, son, always done when young ladies are trying to snag a husband. Nothing to worry about. As a matter of fact, I think you should go over there on your way to the bank and ask for her hand. Best not to delay a proposal, a pretty young lady as herself is not at a loss for admirers, and most young women of proper breeding will accept the first offer on principle alone. Now, I'm sure you have no ring to offer, and for a lady, even from her father's moderate means, will expect one, so here you may use this ring. And George, make sure you are on your knees when you ask."
It was his mother's ring that his father presented him with. George looked down and saw where his father had pried it from her finger, leaving that finger bruised as well.
George knew his father beat his mother; he had witnessed it with his own eyes from time to time his entire life. Mr. Frederick Darling the Fourth was a heavy drinker and a gambler and cursed by the devil with a bad temper. When he lost money in one of his many failed wagers, he would come home drunk and beat Mrs. Darling horribly, causing her to be bedridden for days. That reason alone made George convinced that it was not right for a man to drink, gamble or ever lay a hand on his wife. He had made that very promise to his mother that he would be different from his father in those matters, walking home from the Baker's that first day he met Mary in the flesh, his vow made her laugh, "The same wicked blood that pumps through that man's veins pumps through your George, I wouldn't be so sure."
George wanted to decline his father's ring, preferring to leave it on his mother's finger, as it was her mother's before her. However, he took it out fear of his father. "Thank you, father, I'm sure Miss Baker will wear it proudly."
The dread of her rejection terrified him more than his father. In addition, he didn't even know how propose marriage, never having seen it done. George put the idea aside on his way to work, and did not stop by her home in the morning, nor did he in the evening when he procrastinated further. "I'll go tomorrow, yes tomorrow morning. No, I have to balance my ledger, I have to be in work early and it would be rude to call on her unannounced. It will have to wait till the evening. No, I am to get a haircut in the evening, I cannot ask a woman for her hand without being groomed..." He was home, right on time, to his mother's relief who was standing on the stoop waiting for him. "George, let me speak with your father again. I can tell by your face you have been fretting over this pressure to marry all day, let me see if I can sway your father..."
That night, as the house was still and quiet, George remained awake, writing down by candlelight his best ideas as to how to ask for a woman's hand. He heard his father enter, quite intoxicated and angry, especially after his wife's opening statement: "George did not go and ask that Baker girl to get married because like I told you Fred, he is not ready for marriage!"
That was certainly not what George had in mind for his mother to say when she offered to sway his father. He thought she meant to nicely ask his father to assist his youngest son, perhaps a few lessons on how to charm a lady to the altar. The house was soon full of the normal sounds of their argument, raised voices and the breaking of crockery.
In the morning, with his brothers drinking their coffee and eating their eggs, with their father reading the paper, George's mother lay in bed, beaten within an inch of her life, for as Mr. Baker had told her once before already, "Do not interfere with my sons."
Every day when he returned from work, his father would inquire after Mary Elizabeth Baker, and every day George would make up an excuse as to why he had not asked for her hand. "It was raining today."
Mr. Darling held the same qualms the Bakers did about their child and marriage. He absolutely would not allow the fate of all his sons being failures in their manhood. George was the only son with a prospective bride in plain sight, and truth be told, Mr. Darling loved the thought of his grandchildren born with Darling as their last name having a woman as pretty as Mary as their mother. His old business associates and all the fellows at the pub were already jealous and rather shocked when he informed them his youngest son had the fine luck of having Mr. Baker's only daughter land in his lap. And nothing was going to take that pride or those grandchildren from him.
Mr. Frederick Darling the Fourth stood and looked out his kitchen window dragging George by the collar with him, "Is it raining today George?" It wasn't, and so with George's concession that it was a fine sunny Sunday morning, Mr. Darling yanked his fourth son, whom he still held by the collar over to the Baker's, unannounced.
With his mother's engagement ring, George was forced to get down on bended knee in front of the entire room, Mr. and Mrs. Baker, and Aunt Millicent, and ask for Mary's hand in marriage with his father glaring down at him. George didn't know the words and was silent moving his head back and forth trying to force some sound from his mouth, with his father tapping his shoe loudly next to where George knelt. The small glimmer of hope, that maybe his father was correct, that on principle alone Mary would have to accept his proposal, George raised his head to Mary, only to lose his nerve when he saw her serious expression.
"Perhaps George does not want to ask marriage of Mary?" Mrs. Baker whispered to her sister-in-law Millicent, confirming Mary's concern that George was not interested in being her husband, leaving her with a seriously confused expression as he clutched her left hand in his.
Nevertheless, his touch was so gentle and adoring, his palm soft, not the hands of a laborer but the hands of a gentleman. She gazed upon his face and thought he was the most handsome man she had ever seen, a well-kept appearance with peaceful eyes and kissable lips.
"I told Mary she should never wear a striped blouse it makes her look portly," Aunt Millicent whispered to her brother, watching Mr. Darling's fourth son on his knees in his parlor with his only daughter standing before him. Mary heard her aunt's comment and looked downward, her seriousness now fled into gloom, that her incorrect choice of blouse was to rob her of George forever.
"George, everyone is waiting..." Mr. Darling prompted into his son's ear, and George mindless of his action, slipped his mother's ring onto Mary's finger without asking.
As it turned out, George didn't have to ask, for Mary nodded her head happily as the ring touched her fingertip, increasing the speed at which her head bobbed up and down the further it went along till it was completely and properly place on her hand.
"Good, well done then. A summer wedding I will presume," Mr. Darling suggested, pleased with his match making ability.
"Yes, summer. Best to get these two love birds married," Mr. Baker concurred.
George remained on his knees, with Mary standing before him, each memorizing the other's face. In their minds, they were already assigning parts from the other to their unborn children waiting in heaven. Mary rebuilt her dream home and George decided to not have meat on Wednesdays, just to be safe, while Aunt Millicent raised her hand to her head and fainted after proclaiming, "A young lady of proper breeding should never accept the first proposal of marriage she receives, on principle alone!"
Wasting no further time, Mr. Darling pulled George up by the collar and dragged him home. "Father of the bride pays, so I'll not be expecting any bills, but I will be expecting a fancy party for my youngest son and his new bride, Mr. Baker," he shouted as they descended the front steps, with George tripping over his own feet.
Mary and her mother hugged as she was congratulated on earning the title fiancée, for essentially doing nothing, aside from looking pretty on an armchair in their formal parlor.
Mr. Baker helped his sister to her feet, the sister that was already fuming. "I cannot believe you would allow your only daughter to marry that young man after I specifically told you he is not wealthy enough! And he did not even ask for her hand! He just assumed she was willing! How very rude and presumptuous of him, and this girl you think so highly of allowed it!" she blustered on while fixing on her coat and hat.
"His money does not matter to me for I love him and being his wife is what I want more than anything in this world," Mary finally spoke, already wearing her mother's wedding dress and walking down the aisle in her mind.
"Foolish girl, you will see all too soon that money is the most important thing -- far more important than love."
The Darlings arrived home, and it was announced to their family that the last-born son would be the first married in the summer. "You should all take a lesson from George: choose a girl, get married and have grandchildren for me and your mother! I tell you boys right now, there is no way I'm keeping three bachelors in my home, too scared to be parted from their mommy!"
With that said, Mr. Darling led his now-favorite son into his private den. "George, being a husband will require much more than paying the bills and keeping a proper home. You will, I mean absolutely must, have children with your wife."
'Plain and simple enough,' George thought.
"Do you know how to have children?" This was where it was to get very tricky for a young man who had no experience with women. Too shy to court any others, and too proud a gentleman and devout churchgoer to go to a prostitute, George was a virgin. A virgin who had never been kissed. His brothers and he never spoke of such things. Truth be told, George and his brothers rarely spoke to each other at all. He had no idea on how to make a baby or what came once the newlyweds retired to their honeymoon suite other than what he had read in the medical books his parents kept in their library for reference and study.
"Now once you marry that girl, she's yours to have whenever you want. What I do with your mother is, when we first were married I told her what I expected and made her do it, because that is her duty as a wife. She doesn't have anything else to do all day except make you happy. That's her job." George sat and listened intently to his father telling him he had the right to drink and gamble, "It's your money to do with as you please once you pay the bills." And went on more alarmingly with, "If that Baker girl ever gets out of line, you smack her one to show her you are the man of the house. Only wives that are beaten are well-disciplined and proper."
His father rambled on for an hour ending with "the talk" as he called it. Mr. Darling felt disgusted to know even one of his sons had never the "pleasure," as he called, it of a woman's company. "I just hope your brothers aren't saving it for their wedding nights..."
Mr. Darling grew more annoyed and irritated, as it was his turn to think of the correct words and phrases to explain a natural act between a man and woman. Before he decided a man-to-man conversation would be best for his youngest, Mr. Darling told George he was to take his son to the seedy part of town to get some familiarity with a woman of loose virtue, causing George to cough, choke and spit out his tea. "Na, that's not a good way. That Baker girl is probably a virgin. SHE'D BEST BE ONE with all this fuss and nonsense! You can't have at a girl that's had plenty and do the same with your pure and pristine bride," Mr. Darling conceded swigging on a bottle.
"Alright George, listen to me because I'm your father and I'm going to tell you how it really is. Once you're married, on you wedding night, you will go back to you honeymoon suite. She'll be wearing some pretty frilly frock and you should compliment her on it. Tell her to take it off so you can see her naked and you can see what you married. Because, George, even though I drink and gamble, I never cheated on your mother. If I want that pleasure from a woman, she is the one I take it from; I paid for her so she is mine to have when I want. And you being my son, you will do the same." George did not need to be told not to cheat, he already was sure he never would. But to hear that even his awful father held that respect for a married woman assured him adultery was a grievous sin in the eyes of God.
"Once she's bare, tell her to lay on the bed. Being your first time too, you'll probably be ready just looking at her, and you'd better know what I speak of." George did have an idea about that part, and so he nodded with a seriously curious face to his father to go on. "Tell her to spread her legs and then climb on top of her. Once you are there you have to stick it into her. She's got a hole down their in her womanly region and if you're doing it right you won't have any trouble finding it. Now, being a virgin she is going to cry. All women cry when in the first act, George, mostly due to fear. Women will tell you it hurts, but that's because they want sympathy. If she gets to carrying on too much, smack her one and tell her to be quiet. You may even need to smack her if she moves around underneath you too much. Women can wiggle away from you, or shift about complaining. You need to teach her that she's there in your bed to service you, and only you."
Mr. Frederick Darling the fourth gazed at his son to make sure he was still listening, George was staring back, waiting with bated breath for his father to continue, so he did. "But being a proper lady like her father and mother says she is, she will already know to just lie there and accept you being her husband on top of her. Now George, you have to move in order for it to work, you can't just lie there with it in her, because you'll never get anything out of it just being still. I'm not going to tell you how to move; you will see what I mean the first time you stick it in her. The only thing I will tell you is it feels better if you move really fast. Plus it will be over quicker that way and give you can your wife some relief of your weight as she'll probably be holding her breath the whole time. Make sure you complete yourself inside of her. You'd better know what that means as well, George. Trust me, it feels wonderful inside of a woman instead of in your hand -- that's what good about being a man. But George, you only do that when you are making me grandchildren. Understand? So there you have it. Its real simple and any fool can figure it out. If you want a baby you leave it in her. If you don't want a baby, before you get there, you know what I mean George; you pull it out and finish with your hand! What's polite for a proper young lady like Miss Baker is you excusing yourself to the bathroom and doing it there so she don't have to watch, but if you ask me there is no need the man of the house has to be racing to the bathroom all the time. George, you'd better make that Baker girl jerk you off." Mr. Darling sneered rather maddened as he made his last sentiment. He then glared at George, wanting to make sure his fourth son understood his direction to the syllable.
"BUT GEORGE," he shouted, "Until she's got a baby growing in her belly, you leave it in her. NO IF ANDS OR BUTS BOY!" He cooled slightly and continued on as if he had not just screamed at the top of his lungs the moment before, "Now, when you are done with her, tell her to dress, never let your wife sleep without her clothes, she'll get sick and probably being such a fragile creature catch her death. And never, and I mean never, put it in your wife more than once a day."
George was utterly perplexed, not to mention mystified, by his father's crude explanation of the sacred act of consummation and procreation. Mr. Darling referred to Mary as fragile creature that would catch her death if she were bare too long; at the same time telling George to ride on top of her quickly while she's crying. And the thought of hitting Mary at all, let alone when she was in the middle of "servicing" him for that was her job, made George feel sick. In his mind as his father spoke, he envisioned Mary turning blue from lack of oxygen while he pounded away on her, failing to complete the act, a victim of nerves and doubt, for George knew himself what made him hard and ready, but he also knew far better what would make him soft and limp. Full of questions, without the courage to ask, all he could manage was, "Is it ever to be a pleasant experience for the woman?"
George had not finished his query and his father already laughed loudly, "Who cares, George? That's her job. A woman only has one job to you, and that's it. Just like you work hard all day, hating what you do, she will do the same, only at night in the privacy of your bed."
When George left his father's den and went to his room, a newly engaged man, he had a different vision imprinted in his mind, one that could not be solved by totting numbers. He tried to imagine being on top of his lovely wife, while she wept as he made his pace inside of her, and from that a child of their love would be created. With no comfort found in his mind, he began to figure the expense of her being ill and on her deathbed from lying underneath him on his bed without her clothes for too long.