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CHAPTER – 36: Little Things!
At quarter past six, I was ringing Sarah’s doorbell. She opened the door, dressed in a bathrobe, with a towel around her head. I set the kitchen table while she finished toweling her hair. She joined me shortly, still in her bathrobe. After dinner, she went to the living room, and I put away the remaining food in the fridge; there was plenty left, and I knew I would get hungry later. It was always the case when I had Chinese. After finishing up in the kitchen, I took my book and went to the living room. Sarah was sitting on the big couch, her legs stretched along the length of it, with a pillow behind her back, against the armrest. The low table was pulled close to the couch, and she had her files and books stacked on it within easy reach. She had one file on her lap, taking notes on a clipboard. I took a seat in one of the armchairs, but she pointed me to the other end of the couch, and pulled up her knees to make some space. After I sat down, she slid her toes under my thighs.
“You can keep my feet warm,” she said, and returned to her study.
Taking off my shoes, I put my feet on the low table, getting comfortable in the couch, and dove into my book. It was cozy, and relaxing. About two hours later, I was feeling hungry, and asked her what she would like to have. When she asked for coffee and some snacks, I prepared peanut butter and honey sandwiches and served her with a big mug of coffee. For myself, I had a small bowl of cold rice with shrimp from the leftovers, and a glass of red wine.
“What are you eating?” she asked, seeing the bowl and the chopsticks in my hand.
“Cold rice and shrimp.”
“Eeeeuwww! How can you eat cold rice?” she asked, making a face.
“It’s not much different from sushi, but at least the shrimp are cooked. I’m used to cold rice, and it will keep me till bedtime. I don’t like going to bed with a full stomach.”
“Eeeeuuuww!” she repeated again.
“Don’t mind me. Go on, study.”
Digging her toes under my thighs, she went back to studying, taking bites from her sandwich, and I went back to my shrimp and cold rice. After I finished eating, I returned to my reading. Sometime later, I heard her yawn, and looked at her. She looked tired and a bit sleepy, but she still had a few more files to go over.
“Sarah, take a break. Go wash your face with cold water, and open up a window to get some fresh air. It’s quite warm in here, and sitting like that you won’t be able to continue. In the meantime, I’ll make some fresh coffee.”
“Yeah. Good idea.”
“How much longer do you have?”
“I don’t know. Less than an hour? Why?”
“When I was at the college we used to have coffee with lots of sugar and a little bit of brandy in it. It gives you quite a boost. The alcohol helps the sugar and the caffeine hit you fast. It’s not very healthy, especially the sugar. Nowadays, I use honey instead of sugar in my coffee at the rig; unfortunately no alcohol allowed during work.”
“I think a bit of brandy won’t hurt, but nothing else in my coffee. I could do with some sandwiches though.”
While she went to the bathroom to freshen up, I set the thermostat lower, and opened a window, then prepared sandwiches and coffee. We sat in front of the window. I smoked, and she had her coffee and the sandwiches. When she finished eating, she stole a few drags from my cigarette. Her neck and shoulders looked tense, and I gave her a quick massage. Then, we settled back in the couch as we had been, and she dug into the files, while I went back to my novel.
I had forgotten about time until I felt her toes wriggling under my thigh. When I looked at her I found her watching me; the last file was sitting closed on her lap.
“I’ve finished ten minutes ago, but you didn’t notice. Is it any good?” she asked, meaning the novel I was reading.
Marking my spot, I closed it, and said, “What do you think?”
She was still wriggling her toes, so I grabbed her calves and put her feet on my lap, and began a massage.
“Ooooh! That feels good,” she said, closing her eyes. Then her eyes opened, and she asked, “Is this a full service?”
“Huh?”
“Are you up for some fun and games?” she asked, giving me a sultry look.
I looked up the ceiling. “Lemme think.” That, of course, earned me a well-deserved kick for my trouble.
Grabbing her foot, I ran the back of my fingers under it, tickling her. She tried to squirm away, but she was no match. “Behave,” I warned, and quit tickling her feet. Seeing her yawn, I reminded her of the time. “It’s getting late. You really need your rest, and a good massage is what you need. Don’t you think?”
“I think you might be right,” she replied, looking sleepy and tired.
She got off the couch, and collected her files and books, and I collected the plates and cups, helping her tidy up the place, then we headed to her bedroom. For the next 20 minutes, I worked on her back from her neck down to her toes. When she rolled onto her back, her nipples were standing erect. With a devilish grin, she spread her legs. Her labia were swollen, shiny with her moisture.
“Naughty girl. Close your legs. Let me finish this, and I’ll think about it,” I said.
“Don’t tease me, Mitch,” she pleaded.
“Sarah, baby. I’m not teasing you. I want to finish the massage first.”
“Fuck the massage!”
“Fuck the massage? I don’t think that’s possible,” I returned, and flashed an intolerable grin for good measure.
“Then fuck me!”
“I’d love to, but after the massage. Your shoulders and neck were really knotted. You need the massage.”
Before she could protest, I quieted her with a soft kiss. Then, I started massaging her: first her neck, then moved down to her shoulders and arms. When I neared her tits, they were flushed, and as I worked them, her nipples hardened more. She was starting to squirm, and each time my fingers kneaded her tits and touched her nipples, she moaned. To bring her to a quick release, I moved one hand down, and rubbed my fingers along her slit, while continuing my massage. Seeing her so needy, I stopped the massage, and slid down her body to use my tongue and lips on her pussy. I managed to bring her to a shaking climax in short order. Then, I continued with the massage, and finished it by rubbing her feet and toes. After the climax and the massage, she was almost asleep, so I carefully covered her with the sheet and the blanket. Collecting the towels, and the massage oil, I went to the bathroom to clean up. Back at the bedroom, I put the night light on, and crawled into the bed. As she felt my body, she rolled to my side, seeking the warmth of my body, and snuggled, and I followed her to sleep.
* * * * *
I was enveloped in something soft and warm. It felt like mud, but it wasn’t. It was thick like honey, but it wasn’t sticky. It was warm and wet, with a silky texture, and I felt like I was floating. Whatever the stuff I was swimming in, it felt great, touching my nerve endings, making them tingle with soft, sensual energy. It was like thousands of soft fingers massaging and caressing me with a warm and moist touch. Opening my eyes I looked around and it was dark without being dark and light without being light. I was in a pool, covered in that special unknown substance, and I was bobbing up and down, sinking and rising in it, enjoying the feeling like a little child in a mud pit.
Experimentally I cupped a handful of the stuff, trying to get a feel of its real texture. It was warm, and slick, but also soft, yielding to my touch, and strangely enough, parts of it felt firmer. It felt alive, like a living thing, and as I ran my fingers, touching the soft strange material, the living mud moved and rolled all around me, as if I was in a boat... and it moaned.
Huh? Strange dream! A living mud...
I was enjoying it too much to bother with the strangeness, and let myself go with the feelings. Then, the thing started to talk to me, whispering, “Oh, Mitch... Yes... Like that,” each time I kept moving and touching that strange living mud.
My lower body felt like it was caught in a soft press, undulating, and rocking around me. There was a strange feeling of weight down below my belly, and I felt like I was being massaged both the inside and outside. I tried to figure out what it was that kept me rocking like that, and touched my insides and outside so sensually. I knew I was dreaming, and I tried to wake up, but I couldn’t. A bit later, I felt something inside me melt, as the undulation around me got stronger, as if I was in a boat in heavy weather. Slowly I came awake. This time for real!
“Hey, handsome. Having a good dream?” Sarah whispered.
At first, I was disoriented, and then, I realized Sarah was straddling me. I felt her drape her upper body over my chest. Then she nuzzled my neck, and kissed me. I could hear her soft panting, her breath washing over my neck.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“You were having a very good dream,” she giggled.
“Yeah. What a dream,” I mumbled, still a bit out of it.
“Do you know that you make love when you’re asleep? If you didn’t know it, now you do,” she added with another giggle.
At first, what she said didn’t register, until my mind changed gears.
“You’re crazy.”
“No, I’m not.” She rocked back and forth gently to make her point, and I felt her channel gripping my softening cock, and the wetness. I realized I had just come.
“Did we just...” I asked the obvious.
“Yep. It was great. You can make love in your sleep,” she quipped, giggling again.
“You’re nuts, you know that. How did we...”
“I woke up feeling horny, and felt your hardness between my thighs. I was rubbing myself for a while, and getting worked up. When you rolled onto your back, I debated if I should. I decided I would try to make love to you while you were still asleep.”
“Jeeezz, Sarah! I’ve heard about men taking advantage of women by getting them drunk, but you really take the cake.”
“What can I say? You must have been horny or having a wet dream.”
“I guess. So how was it for you?”
“It was great,” she giggled.
“Really? Didn’t feel like making love with a blow-up doll?”
“Oh, no. You were responding, and touching. It was really something.”
“Well, I’m glad,” I replied.
“Mitch, are you pissed?” she asked suddenly with a much sober tone.
“No, I’m not. I’m worried about the ribbing I’ll get from you. Or Kathy.”
She let out a soft laugh, before she sucked on my lower lip and concluding with a kiss. “Don’t worry about it. I really enjoyed myself. It was something different.”
“What time is it?”
“I’m not sure. I think past two or something.”
“You sound as if you’re wide awake. Will you be able to sleep?”
“Oh, yes. There’s nothing like good sex to make me relax and fall asleep.”
“I thought the earlier orgasm and massage would make you relax and put you to sleep.”
“It did, but... I was having a dream, and when I felt your hard-on...”
“I see.”
I rolled us on our side and my cock slipped out from its warm nest, while we were moving. Despite loosing our connection, we kept kissing and caressing each other until we fell asleep.
* * * * *
The alarm clock woke us up, and Sarah turned it off. I wasn’t awake, yet, ready to sleep more. Sarah lazed in the bed for a few minutes, and after a kiss and a whispered a “Good morning,” she got out of the bed. When I asked about the time, she told me it was too early for me to wake up, and to get some more sleep.
When she left the room, I rolled to her side, and reached for the clock; it was 6:30. I wanted to sleep more, but I knew it would be almost impossible, and I would be half-asleep and half-awake, wasting the time in bed. With an effort, I got out and went to the kitchen to put on the coffee, but found Sarah had already done that. I heard the shower running, and decided to surprise her, suddenly in the mood for mischief and wanting to pay her back for last night. At the thought of what she had done, I couldn’t help but chuckle. It had been an experience, and I still couldn’t believe I thought I was having a great dream at the time. I quietly opened the bathroom door, and saw her silhouette behind the shower curtain. Closing the door, I moved to the bathtub, and when her back was to the curtain I pulled it aside to step into the tub. The sound of the water masked the sound of the opening curtain, but she felt the draught, and startled, she turned and shrieked in surprise.
“Mitch! Damn you! You scared the hell out of me!”
“Sorry, love. I just wanted to surprise you,” I replied.
I turned and pushed her against the wall, and got another shriek. She jumped back from the cold feel, and found herself in my arms. Collecting herself she tried to elbow me, while yelling, “What are you doing? It’s cold. Why are you so mean to me?”
I held her tight, and moved my hands to cup her tits. She was still struggling to get free, but when I started to knead her flesh, she started to relax into my embrace, and sighed. Twisting her head to the side she looked at me over her shoulder, waiting for a kiss. I didn’t disappoint her and we shared a long kiss.
“Why are you so early?” I asked.
“I changed shifts, taking the early shift. In the afternoon, my shift ends around 4:30, and I need to pack. Saturday, I have another early shift, and I want to get on the road as soon as my shift ends.”
“Mmmm... Good plan. It’s not a long drive, but it would be nice to get to Dana’s early.”
“Uh-huh. Can you use one of your hands where it would do the most good, or that pole that’s pressing against my behind?” she retorted with a husky voice.
“That pole isn’t from what you think. I need to take a leak, but it can wait. In the meantime...”
I caressed her, from her tits down to her belly, and then moved further south, to her sparse bush. When she was warmed up, I ran a finger in her slit. Spreading her folds, I eased it into her. A bit later, I added another finger. When I pressed my thumb at the base of her hood, I was rewarded with a moan. In the meantime, my other hand kept kneading her tit. Catching her nipple between my fingers, I squeezed it gently, feeling it harden. I pulled her back and turned her slightly so that the spray from the showerhead would hit her chest, stimulating her other tit. When her moans picked up in frequency, I increased the pace of my fingers in her channel, finger fucking her. Then I broke away and knelt in front of her, to worship her pussy with my lips and tongue. She spread her legs to allow me better access to her core. As I licked and teased her clitoral hood, swiping my tongue on the nubbin, she clutched my shoulders, trembling in pleasure. I stroked her belly, and felt the tremors, before I moved up to her tits. In a few minutes, she was at her peak, and with a soft scream, she came, her tits heaving in my hands. She was shaking and trembling, trying to support herself by holding onto my shoulders, so I put my arms around her lower back, and pulled her against my face, trying to help her. I continued to suck and nibble on her labia, until her climax ran its course. I tongued her channel to collect her oils, and teased her inner lips, enjoying her taste and smell, and the pleasure she was deriving from my attentions.
A few minutes later, she managed to pull herself together and pulled me up to my feet. I gathered her in my arms, and she put her arms around my neck, kissing me, tasting herself on my lips and tongue. My hard-on was trapped between our bodies, and she pressed herself against it, trying to feel it.
“You don’t want me to do anything about that?”
“Nope. It won’t work.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, Sarah. I’m sure. That was for you, and I enjoyed it very much.”
“Me too,” she replied softly. “What am I going to do when you’re away?”
Perhaps, she felt embarrassed at what she said, because she quickly tried to apologize, but I cut her off with a kiss. When I looked at her, she had an apologetic expression on her face.
“Sarah, I understand. I don’t know what I’m going to do when I’m away. It’s mutual, you know.”
“I... I don’t want to get used to this, but sometimes I can’t help myself,” she said, after a long pause. Looking in my eyes, she added, “And I don’t want to get in between you and Dana. You know I care about her.”
“I know, love, but do you really think Dana would mind it? You know what she said.”
“Yes, I know,” she replied with a resigned sigh. “But sometimes I feel guilty.”
“I understand, Sarah. Sometimes I feel guilty, too. About you, Dana, and a lot of other things. Maybe, we should just enjoy what we have. Dana certainly feels that way, and said as much.”
“I guess...” she replied. Then with a more contemplative tone she added, “I’m really looking forward to visiting her.”
When I raised an eyebrow, she smiled and said, “I want to see her in her element. It’s going to be a great opportunity to get to know her better. And I’m happy that you two will have sometime together.” Giving me a sincere look, she continued, “You two really need to be together without distractions, Mitch. I monopolized you a lot, and I know she missed you. And I need a break. It will give me an opportunity to get back to work and school. This whole week had been a blur, and I feel like I got caught in a storm.”
“Do you really feel like that?”
“Well, yes. Too much happened in a short time... Kathy and Mark, you and I and Dana. I need a bit of normalcy to gather myself.”
“Sarah, are you feeling guilt or remorse for what happened?” I asked with an apprehensive tone.
“No, not exactly. It’s... It was great. Really. But, I’ve put my studies aside, and have to catch up. I don’t want to repeat what I did a few years ago. Don’t misunderstand me. I enjoyed what happened, and I want to enjoy it more, but I need a bit of time to catch my breath, to get my life back on schedule. Do you understand?”
“Yeah. I think I do. I guess I might have a similar problem when I get back to work. It’s the first time I’ve managed to switch off my mind, and haven’t thought about work or other things during a vacation. Usually it’s a week or so before I can switch everything off completely and get into a vacation mode.”
She smiled understandingly, and we were going to continue chatting a bit more, but the water started to turn cold. She took a sponge, and let it soak the hot water before turning off the taps. Using the shower gel, she lathered my body. I did the same for her, and shampooed her hair. Turning on the taps, she stepped under the warm spray and washed away the soap and shampoo, and when she was finished, pulled me under the spray, and helped me. The water was almost cold by the time I was finished, but I was used to cold showers. She wasn’t, and she was shivering from the cold water that splashed her when she was helping me. We stepped out of the tub, and I wrapped her in a big towel, and gave her a quick rubdown to warm her up. As she got busy with her hair, I dried myself, and went to the kitchen to prepare a plate with toast.
She came in and sat at the table, and I served her toast with honey and a cup of coffee. Checking her watch she said, “I gotta run. I’ll call you from the hospital. Where will you be?”
“I’m not sure. Try me at Kathy’s around four in the afternoon, or I can drop by after five.”
“OK! Drop by around five. Make sure you’ve got your packing done and ready for tomorrow. Dana knows my schedule and she will probably try to call me at the hospital or you at Kathy’s.”
“All right. I’ll see you then.”
She stood up, kissed me; collecting her bag with files and books, she left. I decided to have my breakfast and finish my coffee, then go to Kathy’s to pick up my sweats to visit the gym. After that, I was planning to drop by at my parents for lunch.
* * * * *
I did a short workout at the gym, and took an hour under the sunlamp. By the time I took a quick shower, and drove to my parents, it was noon. Dad was out, and Mom was busy at the kitchen, cooking. We had a quick lunch, and talked. She asked about Kathy, when we were coming for lunch or dinner. I told her we were going out for dinner tonight, all together—explaining the ‘all together’ part—which was a mistake, because she immediately asked when she was going to meet my new girlfriend.
“Come on, Mom. It’s too early for that, and you know it,” I retorted.
With a twinkle in her eyes, she said, “I know, Mitch. So, you two are going away for vacation?”
“Yeah. Tomorrow.”
“For how long?”
“I’m not sure. She’s got a week off, but I don’t know what I’m going to do after that. I want to spend more time by the beach, but I might drive back with her to her place.”
She gave a quizzical look, and when I raised my eyebrow, she shrugged.
“What’s on your mind, Ma?”
“Nothing, Mitch. I was just wondering about the changes...”
“Changes?”
“You look restless; you shaved off your beard and moustache.”
“Oh, that. I got tired of looking old. Restless... Well, you know how I get before a trip. I’m looking forward to the vacation,” I replied.
“Is it the vacation or the new girl?” she asked with an amused tone.
“Both,” I replied, returning her smile.
“Good. So, are you going to tell me more about her or do I have to ask Kathy?”
Instead of answering her question, I went on a tangent. “Kathy?”
“I know your sister, Mitch. You’ve been with her for a week, now. I’m sure she had gotten something about her from you,” she retorted.
Shit! And I didn’t even tell her we had been to dinner already.
“Well, she met her,” I deadpanned.
“She met her? When?”
“Mark was visiting, and we all went out for dinner last weekend.”
“You didn’t say anything,” Mom accused.
“I wonder why,” I retorted, and received an annoyed look for my trouble. Not to irritate her further, I decided to talk a bit about Dana. “If you really must know... she’s quite beautiful. She’s blonde with incredible blue eyes, and she’s kind and gentle. I like her.”
“That’s all?” she prompted me.
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to tell her she was older than me, but I knew she would get more from Kathy, so I decided to bite the bullet. “She’s a few years older than me.”
As I mentioned that little tidbit, I didn’t know I was closing further discussions about Dana, especially about her work. If Mom had asked about what Dana did, it could have opened a can of worms. Later, back at Kathy’s, when I went over the conversation, I would come to realize how lucky I had been. Mom would have probed further if our talk hadn’t taken a different turn after my little revelation.
She raised her eyebrow at that, but when I didn’t comment, she asked, “Older than you?”
After a long period of not playing the field, I was getting involved with an older woman, and she was worried that the new woman might be trying to sink her hooks into me. “It’s not that important. She’s really a nice person, Ma. I know what you’re thinking. She’s not that kind.”
When she gave a skeptical look, I said, “Sometimes, it would be a nice change if you gave me some credit.” It came out harsher than I intended, almost an accusation instead of resentment. Quickly I tried to rephrase, but she beat me to it.
“I guess I have to get used to the idea. It’s been too long, and... Well, we both know how I am,” she said.
“I didn’t want to sound like that. For what it’s worth, Kathy got to know her a bit. You know she’s a good judge of character and she thinks highly of her, so it’s not only me. Have you already forgotten what you told me? How reserved and picky I am about people?”
She nodded her understanding, and smiled affectionately, before patting my hand, even though I knew I had not been very nice to her. It occurred to me that, in the last several years, she had been the one that took a step back every time we had a discussion or talked about something that I considered my private life. She didn’t have to do that, and she had never done that before. I had grown distant, and perhaps quite hard in certain respects. I knew she missed the closeness we had shared, and the long talks we used to have. Her kids, and Dad, had been everything, and now, we moved out. I realized for the first time that it must have left a hole in her life. With those thoughts in my mind, I made a conscious effort to be more accommodating.
“Ma, I understand. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’ve been so hard on you and Dad. These last few years have been trying. I know it’s not a good excuse, but... I know that you know it. I need time. Just a bit more time.”
She gave a long look, and I could see her eyes were getting moist. She tried to pull herself together. Averting my eyes, I took out my pack, lit a cigarette for her and passed it without looking at her to give her time to compose herself. I lit one for myself, as well. My eyes were on the table, and I kept rolling the cigarette between my fingers, running the tip against the side of the ashtray, trying to look busy.
“Son,” she called out softly.
When I looked at her, she said, “It’s all right, Son. You have your own life, and you make your own decisions. For a long time you’ve been your own man. Long befo— ehm... for a long time. I know we haven’t been easy on you, too, especially about your work. It’s just...” She tried to collect her thoughts before continuing. “Parents want to have the best for their kids, and they also want to feel needed,” she said, pointedly. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
I thought about it, but I didn’t really get what she was arriving at. When I shook my head, she said, “You’ve been too independent, Mitch. Making your decisions, and never saying a word. I don’t mean it as something bad. No. It’s good to see you be your own man, make your own decisions and follow them through. What I’m getting at is you rarely came to your dad or me when you were lost or in trouble. You don’t even mention anything about your problems.”
“I still don’t understand what you’re getting at, Ma.” I replied.
“Mitch, you make us proud; make no mistakes about that. But sometimes, we felt like we had only one kid, Kathy,” she replied softly.
Then I got it. I felt my face heat up, and didn’t know how to respond. “B-But, I’m 25, Ma. I’ve changed, true, but that’s what happens as you grow up...” I mumbled.
“That is so, but... Mitch, it’s not a question of age. It’s something you will know only when you’re a parent. But let me get back to what I wanted to say. Even when you were young, you were your own man. I had to probe you when I felt you had problems.”
I thought about what she said, and maybe she was right, but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember having major problems. “I’m not so sure, Ma. I don’t really remember running into many problems.”
“No, you didn’t. Well, you didn’t have really serious problems, except on a few rare occasions. And we always talked about a lot of things, if you remember. When you were young, you didn’t hesitate to talk about minor things, but you kept the serious ones to yourself, until I probed and slowly dragged it out of you. But there were times, I had to let it go... like what happened with the bullies. You remember what I said, ‘giving us a heartache,’ yesterday? What I meant was, you didn’t give us problems, but watching you go through some of the things you did, was... had been... difficult,” she said. The last point was a reference to how Dad had asked her to stay out of it. Before I could respond, she added, “You grew up too early, too fast, Mitch.” Then, she gave a gentle look to me, and added, “And that pains me.”
Even though I knew I couldn’t fathom how hard it must have been for her, now, I had an inkling of what she was talking about. I nodded my understanding.
“These last few years—”
“Ma, please,” I cut her off.
“Son, listen to me,” she said with a serious tone that didn’t allow me any room to object, so I kept quiet. “I’m not going to lecture you about your life, or your work, or your decisions. You’ve changed a lot, Mitch... in the last few years. And the changes hadn’t been for the good. You never talk, and keep everything inside you. Why don’t you talk about things that bother you, trouble you? Why don’t you talk to your sister, if you don’t want to talk to us? You two have always been very close.”
Ma, please. Leave it alone.
She waited for me to respond, but I didn’t even acknowledge whether I heard what she said. She tried again. “Do you know how she feels? You’ve both been so close, but now...”
“Ma, please. Don’t you think I don’t know that? Kathy and I were always close and we still are. I told you I need some time. And I don’t see the point of digging into the past. It’s over and done with. What’s the use?” I replied with an irritated tone.
She raised an eyebrow, especially at the part ‘it’s over and done with.’ We both knew it was far from the truth, but, on the other hand, she knew I was moving on. Still...
The silence dragged on, making me very uncomfortable, and I was thinking of making my exit. I hastily put out my cigarette. As I reached for my pack and lighter, she changed the subject—perhaps she sensed what I was planning to do.
“How come your skin is not so white?” she asked, pointing to my clean-shaven face.
“I was visiting the gym, and spent some time under the sunlamp.”
“I see.”
She reached and took my pack and lighter from my hand, and lit a cigarette.
“Does it look bad?”
“Definitely not,” she replied, and exhaled a cloud of smoke. “Beard and moustache don’t suit you. They make you look old.”
For a moment, I felt like the bottom fell out under my feet.
“Get rid off that beard and moustache, will you? It doesn’t suit you.”
Those very words ringed in my ears, this time delivered by a younger, melodic voice; and instead of the kitchen, I was at the airport. Just before we had said goodbye to each other, Rei had smiled and...
And what did I say to her?
“I will. If you let your hair grow long!”
With an effort, I tried to chase the memory away. I noticed Mom had paused, and was watching me. I tensed up involuntarily, and gave her a questioning look, worried if she had caught something on my face. She gave a strained smile, and I readied myself for the question that might be coming.
“Give your face a hard look.”
For a moment, I couldn’t make any sense out of what she said, until it dawned on me that whatever she had caught on my face, she had mistaken it for something else. I released the breath I was holding. I tried to smile, and retorted, “Well, I’m a hard man!”
“You’re not. You might try to be, but it’s not in you,” she replied, her eyes flashing in irritation. “Don’t ever try to be something you’re not!”
She knew I was joking, but she didn’t even tolerate jokes on that particular subject: the hard, macho men. She never cared for the macho attitude, and she certainly tried hard to instill in me a sense of gentleness since childhood. Thinking about what I got to learn a few days ago about her involvement with my sensei, and her anger at his attitude, I suspected she had mistakenly taken his aloofness and reserved nature as being macho. Considering she married a gentle and a quiet person like Dad, it was no surprise. Unfortunately, I knew she was wrong. I might not be macho, but I had changed, and in some ways hardened.
Mom was still watching me, and catching my eye, she asked, “What’s on your mind?”
“I was thinking... You know I was joking, but I know I’ve grown hard. I’m demanding, and a difficult person at work. I know you could easily say that I’ve been a difficult son in the last few years. You were right. I’ve been independent. Making decisions and sticking to them requires a certain decisiveness. In a way, that makes a person hard. Or, in my case, it hardened me.”
“That’s not true, Mitch. Decisive and hardened are two different things. Don’t confuse the two. I know you’ve had trying times, and perhaps they hardened a part of you. I hope you’ve not forgotten how to be gentle, and caring, Son. And don’t you ever try to suppress that part of you on purpose; do you hear me? I didn’t raise you to be an insensitive, uncaring ass—”
Taking a breath, she looked me in the eyes, and said, “You know what I mean.”
I nodded. She looked like she was going to continue, but then changed her mind. Taking a drag from her cigarette, she gave a wry smile.
“I’m not easy on you, am I? Why do we get into these?”
Returning her smile, I shrugged my shoulders, and tried to lighten things up. “Because I’m your only son? Because I’m rarely around and you miss me?”
“That was rhetorical,” she scolded, flashing her eyes, and she was still smiling, amused at my response. “When did you get to be such a smart ass?”
I couldn’t help but tease her, “Ummm. You really want to know the answer?”
This time she laughed, and the sound was exactly like Kathy’s, tingling with amusement and joy. Shaking her head, she said, “You don’t have to prove my point.”
“I was serious. If you really want to know, I’ve spent too much time with Kathy, lately,” I offered.
“It’s good that I left you two to each other, and weren’t around when you were engaged,” she replied, laughing again. “You know, in that respect you’re just like your dad, only you’re more outgoing. He’s more introverted and quiet. But when he opens his mouth, he usually hits the spot dead on. At least, he learned not to mess with me... too much. Kathy’s like me, so I suggest you tread carefully around her.”
“You telling me? I know her.”
“Do you?”
“Yes, I do. She can be a handful, and she’s whipped me some. She might win the battles, but winning the war is something else,” I replied, pointedly. Reaching for my pack, I lit another cigarette, and tried to settle into the conversation.
“Maybe. I wouldn’t be so sure about that. I’m not saying that because she’s my daughter, but because she’s Kathy.” She paused as if reconsidering something, then gave me an appraising look. “I think you might have a point about the battle and war thing... although... Did you ever consider that she was just letting you get away with it?”
“I know she does, sometimes. I’m not going to claim I win all the wars. She’s a witch after all.”
“She’s not a witch, Mitch.”
“Of course, she is. She’s a witch of a sister with a loving heart.”
“That, she is,” she agreed. Then, as if something had occurred to her, she asked, “How come Mark’s been here so frequently? You said, you all went to dinner last week, and you’re going to dinner again tonight?”
Shit! That’s Kathy’s surprise.
“What I heard is that he’s been busy here,” I replied, silently congratulating myself for quick thinking. It was the truth, but not all the truth, and since I wasn’t in a courtroom in one of those movies, I didn’t have to tell the truth, nothing but the truth, and the whole truth. I smiled inwardly at my stupid attempt at humor.
“So, that’s why Kathy hasn’t been visiting?”
Damn! Now that’s a real tricky question. If I say I don’t know I would have to explain where I was, and if I say... Shit!
“I guess... Mark was at her place,” I offered reluctantly, as if I didn’t want to comment on Kathy’s private life.
She took the hint, but her eyes widened momentarily in surprise.
“He was at her place... when you were there?”
“It’s her house. I’m just a guest, and he’s her boyfriend.”
“Oh boy! I never expected that. I know Mark sometimes stays at her place, but with you there...” Holding my hand in hers, she gave a loving look, and said, “I’m glad I did get something right when raising the two of you.”
“Huh?”
“You didn’t nose into her private life like some brothers did. And I know you’re very protective of Kathy.”
“Oh, come on, Ma. I had my ear bent by you, thank you very much. Besides, she’s 24, it’s her house, and it’s a serious relationship. He’s her boyfriend, I’m just her brother. I sure wouldn’t want to face Kathy’s wrath by doing or saying something stupid,” I quipped.
“Behave! I’m trying to say something nice, and compliment myself while at it, and you spoil it. I taught you better than that,” she retorted.
“Sorry. I didn’t realize. I’m just surprised why you never gave Kathy a hard time.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because, you and Dad are pretty conservative people in most things. And you know how people are when it comes to pre-marital relationships, even at this age. Look at your friends.”
“We’re not that conservative, Mitch. You should know better than that. As you said, she’s a grown up woman. True, many people would frown at it, even some of my friends, if they weren’t already... but the times are changing. To tell the truth, your generation is luckier than ours. I really don’t give a whit what some of my friends would think or say. I doubt any of them have the courage to say anything, because they know they’ll be getting an earful they wouldn’t care for. I told you we’re proud of you, Mitch. The same holds true for Kathy. Did you ever stop and think about the children of our friends? You know how some of them turned out to be, failed in school, unemployed, in trouble, and so on and so on. Both of you did well. If somebody said something about Kathy’s life, it would be because they are jealous.”
Then giving me an earnest look, she added, “If the man who’s going to marry Kathy makes an issue of Kathy’s innocence, then he’s not the right guy. Kathy knows it, and I know it too.”
“What about Dad?” I responded without thinking, as I was very much surprised and caught unprepared by her last comment.
With a small laugh, she said, “She’s the apple of his eye, Mitch. What do you think? He’d shoot the idiot who tried to hurt her with something like that. He wants to see her married to a good man, not an immature kid.”
“Really?” I said, my cigarette dangling from my open mouth. I was still not over my surprise, and clearly, my mind and mouth were having some difficulty to come to an agreement about what I should or should not say.
“Really. Why do you think I married him? Because he’s gentle and a very loving person, and open minded.”
I ran the whole thing in my mind trying to come to terms with what I thought I knew about them, and her last statement made me wonder if Mom was... I knew I couldn’t ask something like that—finally, it looked like I had gained some kind of control over my mouth—but seeing me lost in thought and perhaps coloring up, she quickly figured out what I was thinking.
“Mitch, if you’re wondering... your dad has been the only man,” she said patting my hand to comfort me, but getting caught at what I was thinking made me feel all the worse.
“It’s all right, Son. In our time, it was a serious issue, and it still is. I doubt your dad would have cared one way or another. He is certainly comfortable with what Kathy is doing, but he’ll not come out and say it. It’s a matter of... well, it’s a matter of propriety. That’s what he’s expected to act like. But, if it comes to the point, say, if Kathy got pregnant by mistake and abandoned by a guy, for example, rest assured he’d not turn his back on his daughter, or feel shamed by her actions. It’s... it’s difficult to explain. He’s caught between two worlds. The one we live in with its double standards and questionable values, and his own sense of... values of... honor, respect, and his love for his family and kids. He’s sensible, and both he and I know that you two wouldn’t do something to shame us, and we trust your good judgment. Kathy understands that. We’ve talked about it.”
“You talked about it with Kathy?” I blurted.
“Yes, Mitch. Your sister was... she was apprehensive when she decided to move out of the house. We knew she wanted to have her own life, even though she’s still at school and we’re paying for her schooling. You know she doesn’t get much of a salary from the work at the hospital. I also knew she had her life outside our home. However, she was concerned about his reaction if she moved out, so Kathy and I had a talk. Are you surprised?”
“In a way, yes,” I found myself mumbling. I was in a daze.
“Why, Mitch? Do you think what Kathy is doing is wrong?”
Collecting myself, I quickly replied. “No. I think there’re a lot of double standards and hypocrisy going around. I’ve seen my share of it, and I don’t care for it. I’m just surprised to hear the same from you.”
“I’m surprised at you, Mitch. I would have thought you knew we weren’t as conservative or traditional as other families. What gave you the impression we were?”
“Uh... I don’t know. We didn’t talk much about the subject, only few times,” I replied, still lost in thought, trying to figure out what made me think they were traditional or conservative.
“We used to talk about everything, when you were young. I didn’t get to talk to you about girls much, because you were shy, and got embarrassed every time I opened the subject. You steered the conversation to something else, so I decided to let it go after a few times. Except the talk about the birds and bees, that is,” she quipped, making me laugh.
I remembered that talk very well. My face must have been permanently red at the time. I expected Dad to have ‘The Talk’ with me, but Mom had always been the one that talked with the kids, so it was natural that I got ‘The Talk’ from her. After all, her kids were everything. I knew what we were going to talk about, and I knew most of the technical or biological stuff. Like any high school kid, I had heard my share of the locker room talks at school after the PE class, and had read books and magazines like the copy of Joy of Sex which I had come across by accident when looking for a book in Dad’s library, hidden behind a row of books, or the Playboy collection I had stashed. Mom had known about them which had prompted the talk.
Our talk didn’t cover the man-woman stuff much, as soon as she realized I knew quite a lot on the subject, so she moved the talk to being responsible about it. She made sure I understood the fact that if I ever got together with a girl, I had to be the responsible person for protecting both of us.
None of the girls in my class was on the pill. Sex was a taboo in many ways, and very few girls had been sexually active, going all the way. I had heard the rumors. It was unthinkable from their parent’s point of view that girls would be sexually active at a young age and before marriage, so none of them was protected. Some did a bit of necking and some went further to petting, but all of the girls were scared of getting pregnant. The social pressure from peers, and family, the scare of being ostracized or the scare of getting pregnant, had prevented most of them from doing something. And most, but not all, of the few girls who had gone all the way had been lucky. I knew one girl who had gotten pregnant, which was dealt with discreetly, but it had cost her. She had a hell of a time with her parents, and friends. In the end she had to move to another school, then forced into an arranged marriage by her parents as soon as she graduated. I didn’t think her marriage had lasted.
I guess Mom knew all that, or perhaps she knew the teenage hormones, so that’s why she hammered that point home several times. Not only that, but she made sure I understood the meaning of respecting my partner, and being discreet, telling me to protect the girl’s reputation.
“You should treat your girlfriend with respect, Mitch. You should respect the fact that she’s chosen you to share herself with, that she’s giving you something very special. Make sure you never forget that, and the least you can do is protect her. You have a sister, Mitch. How would you feel if she got a reputation because of an irresponsible boy? Your partner is somebody’s daughter, somebody’s sister,” she had lectured me at the time.
My first reaction had been, “I would kill the son of a bitch,” using those very words, forgetting I was talking to Mom. Before I realized what I had said, she patted my head affectionately, but told me I wouldn’t have to do something like that because she trusted Kathy to be careful and responsible about it. When I responded I would protect her, her eyes flashed angrily and she told me—in no uncertain terms—that I had no right to interfere in Kathy’s life or decisions; Mom and Dad were the ultimate authority on the subject.
“You have no authority over her. She can take care of herself,” she said. Then, she added, “Don’t you ever forget she’s your equal in every respect, and you’re not her parent.” That last comment was a reminder about my misguided attempt at bossing Kathy, a few years earlier...
At the time, I was 12 and was trying to boss Kathy, despite the fact that we were very close, buddies. I was being influenced by the behavior of my friends at school, by how they treated their younger, and in some instances, elder sisters. Worse, when they noticed how I treated Kathy, they kept teasing me for being very lenient with my sister. That was to be expected; it was—and still is—a very patriarchal society, but our family wasn’t patriarchal; in fact, it has always been downright matriarchal—I reflected in amusement. One day, Mom caught me red-handed, ordering her around, and I ended up spending the entire weekend in my room. She told me to think carefully about what I had done. She had been adamant about us being equals, and when I told her I was a year older, and what I had seen at the school, she said, “I don’t care about your friends, and what they do. You’re not living in their house. This is our house and our rules. Don’t you ever forget it. Do you realize how much you’ve hurt your sister? Instead of worrying about how your friends act, you should consider your sister’s feelings. I thought you two loved each other.” Then, she left me to ponder her words.
I was angry, more so when I realized I was going to miss my practice sessions with my sensei. And I felt I was being treated unfairly. I only got to get out of the room for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, spending the rest of the time in my room, fuming, until... until I caught sight of my sister at dinner. She kept averting her eyes. Later in the evening, when my parents were busy, she sneaked into my room—against the rules—to apologize for getting me in trouble. But the point was, she hadn’t done anything; I was caught red-handed by Mom at the time. That made me realize my mistake. Did I cry at the time, I don’t remember. But I still remember that Kathy had me in an embrace, and I had apologized for hurting her. In the heat of the moment, we had forgotten about our parents and rules, and Mom caught us. Kathy ended up being grounded because she broke the rules, but for some reason we didn’t mind. I guess Mom realized what happened between us, because she told us we could spend the time together in either Kathy’s room or mine if we wanted to, but we were still grounded. Next week, when I visited my sensei, I had to explain my absence, and we ended up talking about the incident. Sensei reminded me that I abided by his rules in the dojo, showing my respect; and I had the same obligation, more so, to honor and respect my parent’s wishes. Besides the fact, I should also honor and respect my sister—now, in hindsight, I knew how strange that was, because in Japanese culture the women were treated as second-class citizens. I knew as much, but to hear it from an outsider, from someone who was an objective bystander helped me see it with clarity, and that concluded my misguided attempt at being a bossy brother.
As I finished my stroll in the past, I caught Mom’s quizzical look.
“I was thinking about the past and the talk,” I replied. Then I asked, “So, how come you never worried about me? We didn’t talk about the subject, except a few times.” I was curious, because she had always been very protective of us, and I couldn’t figure out why she wouldn’t worry about what I would be doing or how I would deal with possibilities.
“Oh, Mitch. I wasn’t worried so much about those things. You were interested in girls, but you weren’t actively pursuing them, and girls didn’t seem to hang arou—”
She stopped in mid-sentence, and reflected on something, before her eyes lit up with merriment. I arched an eyebrow, wondering what she stumbled upon; she didn’t make me wait for too long.
“Do you remember the summer when you were attending the college? The summer after your freshman year?”
“Yeah. What about it?”
When she didn’t respond, I tried to recall if something significant happened during that summer, but I couldn’t find anything to put my finger on. “Sorry, but I don’t understand what you’re getting at,” I said, giving up.
With a devilish grin, she prompted my memory. “You were taking a vacation by yourself again.” When it didn’t help me, she tried again. “The girls were starting to treat you differently, paying attention to you...”
Oh, that... Yeah, I remember... Damn! How did I forget about something like that? Mom and I plotting... Talk about being naughty!
Seeing the recognition in my eyes, she said, “You almost disappointed me, Mitch.”
“Sorry, Ma. I’m disappointed with myself. If it hadn’t been so annoying, the whole experience could have been hilarious, especially the last part. I guess I put it out of my mind, because it drove me bonkers at the time.”
“I know. It was amusing, and I hoped you would have some fun, but you were right to complain about the attention. After a while I was annoyed with them, too. Even Gil’s mother, for God’s sake.”
“Yeah! For a while, Gil changed, but I think it was her mother’s doing. Her father was level headed though, and didn’t put up with the silliness too long.”
“No, he didn’t. That was good; otherwise I don’t know how I would have dealt with Gil’s mother.”
Thinking back to that summer I couldn’t help but laugh about it, even though it had been an extremely annoying experience.
I had been taking vacations by myself for a couple of years already, and I enjoyed the freedom very much. It had become a routine; first day cleaning and preparing the house, and then enjoying the next few weeks without any parental supervision until Kathy and my parents arrived. However, after a few such vacations, the mothers of some girls started to take notice of my abilities. Things were also changing between my peers and me. Some of the boys resented me, because they were being criticized by their parents for being irresponsible or inconsiderate. I sympathized with them to a certain degree, but when they tried to blame their own faults on me, I didn’t put up with them or their attitude, and wrote them off. The other boys didn’t have any problems. The girls, on the other hand, were an entirely different matter. They used to be friends, but by the time I started college, they were treating me as potential husband material, some on their own, and some being pushed by their mothers. Girls I had known for several years were now acting strange.
The changes had been subtle, and I hadn’t noticed, perhaps because, first of all, I didn’t have any romantic interest in any of the girls. Secondly, many of the girls came from very traditional families, and any sexual involvement could have resulted in either a marriage or some kind of a scandal. I wasn’t stupid enough to consider or entertain the idea of a fling with any of them (until I met Rei, of course, but that had been very different; I had fallen in love with her). I had managed to have a few experiences out of the sight of friends and neighbors, with girls from a nearby town or out of town tourists. Although they had been on rare and lucky occasions, at least they didn’t carry the danger of marriage or scandal—an outlet for my teenage hormones, allowing me not to look for company among the girls from the neighborhood. Unfortunately, things came to a head the summer after my freshman year. From the very first day, I received many dinner invitations. After a few dinners, I knew I didn’t want to attend any, because the mothers were doing a sales pitch, while the girls were openly trying to flirt; the whole thing became a very irritating experience, trying my patience sorely. I declined most of the invitations, inventing excuses. I couldn’t even enjoy the beach, and had to walk couple miles down the shore to avoid the people. However, I could keep inventing excuses for only so long without being impolite. In the end, I decided to meet them on my own terms, so I invited my friends to my flat for parties, and that was a breather. It allowed me to fulfill my social obligations, while avoiding one-on-one situations with the girls. Unfortunately, my tactical brilliance had unforeseen consequences; my cooking and social skills were added to a growing list of desirable traits. By the time my parents had arrived, I had had enough of the mad circus around me, and was at my wit’s end.
I was still reluctant to ask Mom for help, but when I couldn’t figure out a way out from the hole I had dug myself into, I decided to discuss the situation with her. At first, she was amused; she laughed and teased me, joked about my complaints, telling me every other boy would be very happy to be in my shoes. But she knew me well, and knew I had a real problem. So, she tried to probe whether I was interested in any of them. I suspected she might be considering a few girls as likely candidates for the future, most probably because they were from good families, and good friends of our family, well schooled, and suitable. However, I didn’t have the slightest interest in them. I didn’t even consider any of them for a short fling, and adult fun was definitely not an option—a very definite no, no!
To tell the truth, at the time, I was surprised that Mom would ever entertain any possibility that I might have flings with some of them, so I had another talk with her; this time it was a heart-to-heart, laying down our cards. To my utter shock, she told me she had been considering Gil—but I shouldn’t have been! We’ve known each other for some years, and both families got along very well; in fact, our families were closer than the other families in the summer place, and she was really a nice girl, but... she had always been an impish tomboy, a second sister to me. I explained how I felt about Gil, and told her I wasn’t thinking of marriage, yet, and I didn’t want any outside interference on that subject, especially from her. She knew she couldn’t force the issue. Once that point was settled, she knew she had to do something before things got out of control; she realized that my patience was running out.
A few days later, we had another talk. I got the feeling she was irritated at something; I wasn’t wrong. Some of her friends, including very close friends like Gil’s mother, had been probing Mom in regards to me, and she was fed up with the way they were acting. I didn’t even say “I told you so,” but one look at my face, and she knew what I was thinking; she conceded the point without any argument. Then, we worked out a plan to deal with the situation. It hadn’t been difficult, and except for one small part, the whole scenario was mostly based on truth. She was going to let them know that I already had a current interest at the college—there wasn’t any—and I had changed. Mom was having difficulty with me—that was the truth, as I made it very clear I would not tolerate any interference, from anybody—especially in regards to that girl at the college when there were nicer girls around me—that was Mom’s invention, with which I had nothing to do with.
It was the perfect plan: the mother dismayed at her rebellious, headstrong son! And it worked like a charm, gaining Mom the sympathy of the other mothers, while taking the pressure off both of us.
Mom should have won an Oscar for her performance.
“Yeah, it was fun.” Still, I was curious, and not completely satisfied with her answer. “To return back to the subject... You said you weren’t worried ‘so much,’ but that means you must have some worries at one time or another...”
“Well, I knew you were curious, and you knew quite a bit. I was sure you would be careful after the talk we had,” she replied, but I sensed she was temporizing.
“There was no way I wouldn’t take notice of what you said and how you said it at the time, Ma. Didn’t you ever worry about where or how I could find answers to some questions, if and when I had them? You said it yourself; I didn’t ask you anything,” I insisted.
“I thought you would eventually come to me,” she offered, but it was too quick.
“And if I didn’t? What were you going to do?” I responded. When she looked like she was going to wave it away, I changed course. “You’re always prepared, Ma.”
She gave me a pained look.
“Come on. Let’s hear it. You must have had some backups in place.” Giving her an infectious grin, I added, “After all, I’m my mother’s son!”
She smiled sourly at my attempt at humor, but I could see she was considering. She also knew she couldn’t avoid it. To push her along, I smiled, and gave her an imploring look. Mulling it over, she came to a decision, and said, “This is between the two of us?”
I nodded, grinning at my small victory.
“I mean it, Mitch. You put me in a difficult position.”
Hearing the concern and warning in her voice, this time, I gave her a sober nod. “Sure, Ma. I wouldn’t breathe a word of it.”
“I made sure you got help from Kathy,” she said, pointedly.
Jeeez! Talk about a bomb—
What the hell was going on?
Seeing the utter confusion and shock on my face, she explained.
“When I discovered—well, you know the little things I discovered.” She gave me a devilish grin, and continued, “Mothers are supposed to discover their kids are growing up.”
I chuckled at her quip, because I remembered so many of the little things she had discovered.
“You two were close, and I knew you were starting to tease each other on the subject. When I was talking with Kathy, I reminded her that girls matured earlier, and that boys had difficulty. She quickly got what I was driving at, and then we talked about you. I suspected you might talk with her, and Kathy, sharp as ever, knew what I was thinking, so she told me she would help you, if the subjects ever made it into your conversations. Whenever she couldn’t answer your questions or help you with something, she would ask me, and then get back to you.”
After her revelation, there was a long pregnant silence. Afraid of the answer I would get, I hesitantly asked, “And? Did that happen?”
She gave me a confused look, as if she didn’t understand what I was asking, but I realized she was waiting for me to spell it out, enjoying herself. Perhaps, it was a small measure of payback for what I have done, forcing her to confess.
“Ma! Did she get—” I stopped and took a deep breath to collect myself. With a calmer tone I asked, “Did it ever happen? Did she ask you for more information... to help me out?”
She nodded, but didn’t offer anything else, except a faint, amused smile forming at the corner of her lips. She was enjoying herself, and dragging the moment.
“You’re going to make me sweat it, aren’t you?”
She nodded with a grin.
“And I thought you loved me... Still having fun?”
She didn’t buy into my questionable tactics. We both knew she loved me; she loved her kids and husband, period!
“I didn’t know you had a flair for dramatics,” I retorted, changing course.
“Look who’s talking! You’re the one with flair for dramatics.” Then she mimicked me, “And I thought you loved me!”
I couldn’t help but laugh, and she joined in.
“All right. You win. Now, would you please tell me?” I asked with an imploring tone.
“You know,” she paused, “you sound like a little kid begging for her birthday present.”
“Come on, Ma. This is no present. This is serious matter.”
To calm me down, she patted my hand. “It’s not that serious. I hope you realize that?”
Gathering myself, I gave her a slight nod, and waited for her explanation.
“What’s a good example? Hmmm...”
“Oh, God. You’re insufferable, you know that!” I couldn’t help myself, since she seemed to take her time.
“OK. Enough teasing!” she said. “Haven’t you ever wondered why Kathy would talk to you about the women stuff: like the pill, the periods, and similar? Most girls would be embarrassed to talk about private things like that.”
I sat there in stunned silence, gaping at her.
Sheeessshhh! She knew I asked Kathy about all that? Damn!
With a soft laugh, she told me to close my mouth. I realized my mouth was dry, and I tried to wet my lips but gave it up. I got out of my chair, and filled a glass, then finished it in a few gulps. I returned to my chair, and thought about what she told me. I realized it was in the past, and there was nothing I could do about it, and with what I knew now, there was nothing to be embarrassed about, but... to think that she knew about some of what Kathy and I talked about was...
Uhh! Disconcerting. That’s the word you were looking for, wasn’t it?”
Smartass!
Well, you were being a smartass, and look where it got you!
All right! Enough! Sometimes I just can’t win an argument against myself!
Putting aside those thoughts, I returned to what she told me, trying to formulate an answer to her question.
“I didn’t give it a second thought. She wanted to be a doctor, and had all kinds of books. And we were very close. So, when I gathered my courage and asked her things, she teased me for a short while, but then answered my questions. At the time, I thought she was being sisterly, even with the teasing, but now... I wonder if she was putting on an act,” I said.
“I don’t think so, Mitch. Did she act any different about other embarrassing subjects?”
“No, she didn’t. She would tease me, then help me out.” I reconsidered the situation; at the back of my mind, I knew Mom had to do something at the time, knowing what she knew about me. I couldn’t fault her. “I don’t understand why you want me to keep it a secret. I think you both did the right thing. I can’t really blame either of you for trying to help and protect me. I know Kathy loves me as much as I love her.”
“That maybe so, but she was worried that you would hold it against her if you learned about it, because she was passing personal secrets to me, behind your back.”
“Was she? Did she ever say anything about what I was doing or tell you something I asked her to keep secret?”
Mom thought about it, and said, “No, she didn’t. She passed along questions she couldn’t answer.”
“So...”
“I see what you mean. I’m glad you’re understanding about this, Mitch.”
“What’s not to understand? All my dirty laundry was being washed by the two of you,” I quipped with a grin.
“Yeah. It was,” she retorted back. “Well, then I’m not going to hold you to that promise.”
“There’s no need to talk about it with Kathy, now. It’s in the past. Unless something necessitates it.” My mind was still busy with the other revelation though, and I found myself saying, “You know, I’m really surprised with what you told me about yourself and Dad.”
“You should have known it a long time ago, Mitch. We talked about it, but I guess you never realized what I was talking about was also something your dad and I both agree and believe in. I told you that as long as you didn’t get your girlfriend into trouble, or cause a scandal, you were allowed the freedom. You don’t remember that?”
She’s right. All the things she had told me at the time... A conservative person wouldn’t have talked like that!
“I remember that, but I didn’t give it much thought. I was too embarrassed to accept the idea that you might know about a girl I might be sleeping with. I also thought you were just being... umm... I thought you were trying to probe to see if I was doing something, so I didn’t want to think about that, and never considered I was really being given the freedom. It was just ‘talk,’ right? I mean... what 15-year-old would take that as nothing but talk, rather than permission?”
“I see... Well, you wouldn’t expect me to come outright and tell you what to do, would you? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I meant what I said, Mitch. You should have realized it. Maybe I should have tied you to the chair, and made you really listen to me. You never had trouble talking about other things. Why is that, Mitch?”
“I don’t know, Ma. I guess it’s just too private. And you know I was shy around girls. Even now, I don’t really feel comfortable talking about things like that. Don’t let this talk fool you. We’re not talking about real stuff, just some generalities. I guess it’s just the way I am.”
“You need to loosen up, Mitch. Maybe it’s good you’re staying at Kathy’s,” she retorted with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’ll discover in time,” she replied cryptically.
“Huh?”
“When Kathy gets to know your girlfriend, and if they hit it off, you’ll know it,” she said.
“What will I know?”
“You’ll know it when you see it,” she replied, but her answer was as clear as mud.
“You’re not making any sense, Ma.”
“Don’t mind me,” she replied with a tingling laugh, and from her expression I knew she was having a joke at my expense.
It was impossible to get a reply from her, so I decided on a probing attack. “This isn’t another blonde bombshell thing, is it?”
“I don’t understand what you mean, Mitch. You’ve seen Sarah,” she retorted.
“And you didn’t have a hand in that plot with Kathy?”
“You’re too suspicious for your own good. No, I didn’t have a hand in it at all, but I suspected what Kathy was planning. Neither of us knew you were involved with somebody. But it seems no harm was done.”
I wasn’t sure how I did manage it, considering the tables were being turned against me, even though she might not have realized it, but without missing a beat, I smiled, and replied, “Nope. No harm was done. It was good to see Sarah.”
She laughed, just like Kathy; the sound of small bells ringing, tingling in my ears with its melodic quality and warming my insides. Patting my hand, she said, “Good. Since you mentioned Sarah, is she going to be joining the dinner?”
“I think so. Kathy and Sarah are inseparable, and it seems that hasn’t changed,” I replied.
“I think Sarah’s curious about your new girlfriend, also,” Mom said, her eyes alight with amusement.
“Why would she be curious about her?” I asked with a sinking feeling in my stomach; I was walking on thin ice.
“She’s known you for a long time. I guess it’s only natural that she would be curious about the girl you’re involved with; just as Kathy is.”
“I guess,” I said with a shrug.
I wondered if she was expecting me to pick up on the possibility that Sarah might be interested in me. But she knew I was involved with another girl, and she couldn’t come out with it. On the other hand, if she had subtly hinted at it... so, I decided to play the ignorant Mitch, the clueless son, and to a certain extent, it worked.
By then our conversation was drawing to a close, and she asked me to stay for tea, but I declined. I told her I wanted to do some shopping before my trip. We sat there for another half hour, talking about other things, and it was a good feeling. Then I drove to Kathy’s.
* * * * *
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