Chapter 2

My eyes fluttered open. The emergency lights were back on, dim, but to my eyes, too bright. I turned my away and looked along the floor. I was facing one of the elevator doors and nobody was between it and me. I heard rustling behind me and fear flashed through me. I didn’t know which side of the elevator I was on, ours or theirs. I raised my head and twisted my groggy head to look over my shoulder.

Thank God.

Mom was sitting with her back toward me, dress unzipped enough to show her spine as she rocked from one buttock to the other, tighten her stockings. Satisfied they were snugly in place, Mom reached behind to zip up her dress but uncharacteristically fumbled with the zipper. I sat up and turned to help her, putting my hand over hers just as she finally managed to prod the zipper into movement above the dark brown slip that matched the dress. Mom twisted and impatiently brushed my hand away.

I looked across at Nita who was watching with obvious amusement. Had Nita said something while I was still asleep or, worse, had Mom heard us last night? The smirk on Nita’s face provided no clues. Mom seemed mad at me. What else could it be?

Nita stood up and smoothed the tight dress over her thighs. I don’t know what it was made of but surprisingly, given what had happened last night, it wasn’t even wrinkled. Moreover, I couldn’t see where I’d torn it on the front. The damage must have been more minor than I’d thought or maybe it was hidden by the crossover wrap that emphasized the outline of her sexy breasts.

The main lights turned on and the elevator lurched. Ramone was caught crouching on his feet, about to get up, and spilled back onto the floor.

“Jesus, fucking Christ,” he yelled.

Flashing him a disgusted look, Mom tried to get up but lost her balance too. I jumped to my feet and extended a hand but she ignored it and stood up on her own. Nita laughed. Mom turned and walked to the door through which we had entered and pressed the button marked “1”. The elevator sprang into action.

We all clustered behind Mom. The doors opened and we were looking out onto a long hallway with the light of day beyond glass doors in the distance. Without a word, Mom stalked out of the elevator, heels clicking louder that Nita and Ramone’s had the night before. Nita cocked her head at me and smiled. I rushed to catch up to Mom. Nita’s heels clacked on the floor behind me.

We passed by several people dressed in hospital greens but only one gave us even a passing glance. Without hesitation, Mom pushed through the glass doors and out onto the street. I caught the door just before it closed and hurried to catch up, not bothering to hold it for Nita who was right behind me.

Mom had waved down a cab and it stopped about twenty feet up the street. I ran and caught up just as she got in the back seat. If I hadn’t got there in time, I think she would have told the driver to leave. I looked back at Nita, the woman with whom I’d had the best sex of my life. Would I ever see her again? Would I ever have sex like that again?

Nita was talking to Ramone. He seemed confused but then started to laugh. They both turned to look at us. They were both laughing.

I got in the car, and we sped away.

Mom didn’t speak to me the whole way home. As soon as we got there, she got out and strode purposely to the house, leaving me to pay the bill. I hadn’t dared to say anything, not even to mention that we had driven to the hospital in Dad’s car. Mom was at the top of the stairs by the time I got inside. The shower was already running as I passed by her door. When I got to my room I flopped onto the bed and was soon asleep.

It was after dinner when I woke up. I showered and went downstairs. Mom was sitting in the living room, reading a magazine or, more accurately, flipping casually through the pages.

“Mom, about last night...”

“I’m tired,” she said.

“But I think we should...”

Mom rose abruptly to her feet and brushed past me. She went uo the stairs and disappeared down the hallway. A door slammed shut.

The next two days were like that. Every time I tried to talk to Mom it ended the same way. If I remained silent, she ignored me, but if I spoke, she would leave the room. Late in the afternoon on the second day, she broke her silence.

“Put your shoes on. We need to got into the city. Your father has been released and you can drive his car back.”

“Aren’t we going to eat first?”

“No.”

In the car, as soon as we cleared the driveway, I tried again.

“Mom...”

“I’m not in the mood to talk.”

So we drove down to the hospital in a silence no less awkward than the cab ride home. At a red light, I started to speak but choked it off because of the way Mom’s neck tightened.

Why was she so pissed? I was pretty sure she knew that Elaine and I had sex but it wasn’t like we were engaged or anything. She couldn’t deny that Nita was pretty and had a hot body. Was it because it was disrespectful to do it with her in the room? Probably, and I knew it was a pretty shitty thing to have done, now that my thoughts weren’t driven by lust, but couldn’t she give me a break? I mean, I had a young man’s hormones. Wouldn’t it be easier to pretend nothing had happened?

I hated that she was so mad at me. In that moment, I realized how much I loved my mother. I had disappointed her and that twisted my guts into a knot so tight I didn’t know if it would ever come undone. I wanted to say I was sorry but couldn’t get a single sound to exit my mouth.

Please forgive me, Mom. I’m so sorry.

Why couldn’t I just say it?

In the hospital, Dad was flirting with a young nurse who had wheeled him downstairs and was keeping him company on the main floor. He glanced our way when we came in but that brief second was all he spared from attending to the young nurse. Good old Dad.

“How are you sweetheart?” Mom greeted him.

“Fine, fine,” Dad replied, not bothering to look up.

“Are you ready to go home?”

“And leave all this?” Dad laughed.

“Ryan can drive you,” Mom answered curtly. She spun on her heel.

“I was just kidding,” Dad finally looked at Mom, but hit was too late, she was already walking briskly away.

I drove Dad home after removing the parking tickets bunched under the driver’s side windshield wiper. I had no explanation for the tickets and simply suffered through his barrage until about halfway home when he tired of it and began talking about the nurses that had been taking care of him. We were almost there when he remembered Nita.

“Wasn’t she something?”

“Who?”

“That one visiting Herb with her boyfriend the other night?”

“Oh yeah. I guess so.”

“You guess so? That was a fine piece of ass, youngster. Better than you’ll ever get hold of anyway, unless you get lucky. A wild woman like that is nothing to sneer at.”

“I suppose so Dad. Can we talk about something else?”

“Hell, you’ve got my good looks son, but you’ve got to liven up a little if you want them to work for you.”

“Dad.”

“I’m just kidding, son. I would never cheat on your mother. A man likes to look, is all.”

How could Dad not know how crappy that sounded to me? I looked at him to see if he was joking and quickly looked away. He was serious but his eyes weren’t convincing.

Mom was in bed when we got home. I had to help Dad up the stairs. I guess the medication was wearing off and his bravado with it. Mom was sitting up in bed flipping through a magazine. She didn’t even look at us as I helped Dad to his side of the bed and sat him down on its edge. I got the feeling that she had only picked it up when she heard us coming up the stairs. I looked at her and waited for a response. Not necessarily a thank you, anything would do.

I was disappointed. Mom flipped the pages while I waited. As the seconds dragged by, Dad started unbuttoning his shirt. Mom’s hair shone in the light from the lamp behind her, producing an aura around her head. There was a sheen on her bare shoulders where she mush have rubbed cream on and a bruise on top of the left one. I guess she’d had an uncomfortable night sleeping on the hard linoleum floor. Maybe that’s why she’d been awake to hear me with Nita.

I tried to eject the thought as soon as it started to pass through my mind but the observation was undeniable. The lacy, blue nightdress that clung to Mom’s left breast momentarily fell away when she exhaled. I thought she looked incredibly sexy with her breast sagging beneath her clothes, then expanding to fill them again. I watched the sequence repeat itself several times and wondered how this woman put up with my father and his shenanigans and why he was blind to what was lying next to him. I vowed to never disappoint her again.

I helped Dad remove his shirt, slipped off his shoes and socks, and pulled his pants off. I peeled the covers back, which exposed Mom’s left thigh, then swung his feet up on to the bed and pulled the sheet over him, followed by the blanket. I bid my parents goodnight and left their room, closing the door quietly behind me.

I love you, Mom, I thought to myself.

And I meant it. However, in my bed, with the light out, I thought about Nita’s hot body and the way it felt writhing underneath me. Dad was right. There was a wildness about her that sucked a man in and made him want to take her, hard. I was desperate to be with her again, or someone like her—sex with Elaine just wouldn’t cut it anymore. I fell asleep with cock firmly in hand but the last lingering thought was of a lacy blue nightdress with a retreating breast that surged lustily forth, and a long shank of sexy, bare thigh.

The next morning I embarked on a mission: winning Mom over. Instead of trying to talk to her about that night in the elevator, I made myself as quietly helpful as I could. I didn’t know how to go about it at first but after a while I got the hang of it. I did little things, unimportant things, but I did them without being asked and never pointed out that I had done them. Weeks went by.

At first, Mom didn’t notice but eventually she began to take note. Just a glance or two but it was nevertheless an acknowledgement of my effort. I suppressed the urge to speak about that night in the elevator knowing it could ruin the progress I had made so far. Over the next few days I kept myself in check and Mom seemed to avoid me less often and gradually softened toward me. However, it still surprised me when we accidentally bumped into each other and she didn’t shy away. The next day, I was arranging a bouquet of flowers on the dining table that I had picked for her. She was very pleased when she saw what I was doing. I forgot myself and gave her a big hug. Although Mom tensed up, she didn’t push me away.

Thereafter, I was able to give Mom the occasional brief hug. Our relationship slowly returned to normal and then went beyond. We became closer than we had ever been. We talked casually about anything, but never about that night. Whether we were talking or not, we were comfortable in each other’s company and Dad’s presence was an intrusion. Whenever he left the room, we both relaxed.

I developed a new theory to explain why Mom was so upset about the night. It was rooted in her relationship with Dad. He could have easily died on the operating table and Mom had been very worried yet he took her for granted as soon as he became aware of his surroundings again. Worse, he ignored her and paid attention to anything else in a skirt that was nearby.

So when Ramone checked her out, she responded. And then, during the long night in the elevator, when her own fantasies might have run wild, she heard Ramone having wild, abandoned sex with his girlfriend. Only, in the morning light, it was clear that the drugged Ramone hadn’t been capable of vigorous sexual activity the night before and she turned her anger toward me. I can’t claim to understand women much but I think Mom was jealous that I had experienced the wildness she had wanted to taste, if only just once.

I think Mom eventually felt guilty about giving me the cold shoulder, especially when it obviously upset me so much. In the end, everything had worked out for the better. Dad carried on like he always had but Mom didn’t seem to care. In fact, she actually seemed pleased to hear his flimsy excuses about needing to work late or go into the office on the weekend since it left us alone to enjoy ourselves in a more relaxed environment.

For my part, remembering how Mom had come alive when Ramone had so blatantly checked her out, I started throwing compliments her way. I helped her with the grocery shopping and when a woman went by wearing an outfit that would look good on Mom, I mentioned it. Dismissive at first, Mom eventually took my suggestions into consideration. Not long after, I found myself tagging along to help Mom shop for new clothes.

We were sitting in the food court, having a coffee, when we ran into Ramone and Nita. They came up behind me but I knew something was up by the look on Mom’s face before they sat at the table next to us. Mom glanced at me and then looked away. I turned to see who she was avoiding and looked full on into Nita’s face.

“Well, hello ... Ryan,” she smiled.

Ramone’s head snapped over and a smirk formed on his face before his gaze even settled on me. He said something that only Nita could hear.

Nita glanced at him, annoyed, and said, “Shut up.” She looked at Mom. “It looks like you survived the ordeal.”

Mom nodded. I could tell she was uncomfortable.

“That was sure a night to remember,” Nita added.

Mom looked more uncomfortable. Shit, I had just managed to get her over being mad at me. Why didn’t Nita just shut the fuck up?

I looked at her and tried to convey that sentiment but she was oblivious. Ramone was eyeing Mom up and that pissed me off but it was better than him finding out what Mom had been pissed at me about.

Mom might have realized that herself because she said, “We should be going.”

Nita reached out and put her hand over Mom’s, startling both her and me. “But it looks like you just sat down.” She turned to Ramone and said, “Get me a coffee, baby.”

Ramone objected but relented when Nita threw him a heavy look.

I half stood up and asked Mom, “Did you want another?”

Mom looked daggers at me so I promptly sat back down, but then she changed her mind. Looking at Nita, she said, “Maybe I will have another. This one’s cold.”

As I got up to follow Ramone, Nita said, “He doesn’t know.”

She must have meant that Ramone didn’t know but she spoke as if it was a question. The tension that had surged within me upon seeing Ramone and Nita drained away until I looked at Mom and saw the grim look on her face. Nita repeated herself, staring intensely at Mom. Mom shook her head and Nita looked surprised.

“He really doesn’t know?”

My gut tightened. Something was going on here that I didn’t get. Was she talking about Dad? Was she worried that Mom had told him and he might be in contact with Ramone’s father?

“Did you tell Ramone?” Mom asked.

Nita shook her head. Relieved again, I got up to get Mom another coffee. I didn’t wait to hear whether or not Mom had told Dad. He wouldn’t care. In fact, he’d be proud of me.

Ramone was standing in line but I didn’t join him, steering instead toward another place before he saw me. I looked back at the table. Mom and Nita were engaged in intense conversation but Mom didn’t look upset which surprised me. I was afraid she might accuse Nita of shamelessly seducing her son in the dark and start a battle with the younger woman. Ramone got his coffee and left so I veered back and got another coffee for Mom. When I returned, Mom and Nita were talking about shopping and both were ignoring Ramone.

“I’ll come with you. Men don’t know anything about shopping.”

“Alright. Let’s go then.”

They both got up and Mom walked away.

“Wait here,” Nita told Ramone, then turned to follow Mom.

I hesitated, coffee in hand. The last thing I wanted to do was sit here with Ramone. I glanced at him, then went after the women. I followed them down the mall until they disappeared into a store, then sat on a bench and waited for them. I had drank most of the coffee before they came out. They both smiled at me and set off down the hall. I followed them to another store and sat on a bench near it.

This was so weird. Mom was shopping with the woman she had been so mad about me doing in the elevator. Half an hour later, they emerged, still talking. They walked my way and stopped, ignoring me and still talking.

“So I’ll give you a call then.”

“That would be great,” Mom answered.

“I’d love to see your home,” Nita responded.

Mom was inviting these people to our house?

They hugged and Nita turned to me. “Goodbye, Ryan.”

She stepped close and gave me a quick hug and kiss on the cheek, then turned and walked away. I watched her and Mom commented.

“She is worth looking at, isn’t she?”

I looked away.

“You can’t really blame your father. He has no idea what young woman like that think of old lechs like him.”

Mom laughed.

“Come on. Let’s go home.”

I wanted to ask Mom what she and Nita had talked about but she seemed to be in such a good mood I didn’t want to ruin it. Obviously, she wasn’t mad at me anymore so I decided to let well enough alone.

Things went on pretty much as usual after that. The relationship between Mom and I got more and more relaxed. I continued being as helpful as I could and offered up compliments when the opportunity presented itself, which happened more frequently.

Strangely, Mom wore the clothes she had bought while shopping with Nita but only during the day. She changed before Dad came home. I didn’t blame her, he’d probably make fun of her rather than acknowledging how good she looked. The clothes Nita had helped pick out suited Mom surprisingly well. The dresses were sexy but not cheesy and Mom looked younger in them. I particularly liked the wrap that emphasized her breasts, much as Nita’s clubbing dress did for her. Mom looked super in it.

One night after supper, Mom was arranging a vase of flowers on the dining room table. Dad was sitting in the living room and I was passing behind her on the stairs when I looked down and was captivated by the thrust of her breasts against her dress. I continued down the stairs and stepped behind her. It was one of her own dresses but it fit her very well. Although Mom was aware I was there she didn’t acknowledge my presence.

I was about to compliment Mom on the dress but instead did something completely unplanned and strange. I reached out and let my hand hover over her right shoulder, just above the nape of her neck, then let it slowly drop until my finger touched her skin. The contact was categorically different from our hugs. Those platonic embraces had nothing in common with this feathery touch. Mom stiffened as her breath drew in sharply. Her hands stopped arranging the flowers and froze in mid-air above them.

Undeterred despite the turmoil raging inside my head, my finger slid along her neck, following the curve onto the top of her shoulder and then stopped. Starting again, it proceeded outward to the edge of Mom’s shoulder and pushed the strap of the dress near the precipice but not over onto her outer arm, then retraced its path, moving slowly until the tip was buried against the nape of Mom’s neck.

I took a deep breath but didn’t remove my finger. Mom took three quick, short breaths. The kitchen clock ticked loudly. I looked into the living room at my father’s feet resting on the footrest in front of his chair, then back at the finger resting on Mom’s neck. I pushed my finger deeper until the tip dug in behind her clavicle and traced it out to her shoulder before returning to the spot where my finger had first landed on her skin. Mom too a deep breath.

I lifted my finger and turned away, walking slowly, though I felt like running.

The next day, I asked Mom if she was really going to have Nita out to the house.

“Yes,” she said.

It looked like Mom expected me to say more but I dropped the topic and she let it lie.

That night, I asked Dad if he minded if I built myself a hobby room in the basement. Except for a half bathroom and the rumpus room, the basement was unfinished. Dad knew I had acquired some carpentry skills from a summer job framing houses so I figured he’d say it was okay.

“You can use the rumpus room,” Dad said. “Nobody uses it anymore.”

“It’s too big.”

“So don’t use all of it.”

“I need to make some special alterations.”

“For what?”

“Photography.”

“You’re not thinking of putting a sink in? I’m not paying for a plumber.”

“No. I just need to control the lighting.”

“Only,” he said, “if you insist. But if you spend more than a couple hundred bucks it’s on your nickel.”

“Okay Dad. Thanks.”

So I started building a room. I had no solid idea why I wanted to build this room and it was strange that I didn’t question the urge to do it. I bought some two by four studs and a bunch of drywall and started hammering. I didn’t even draw up a plan. I just started the outside wall about nine feet from the basement wall in a section where there weren’t any windows and worked my way along about fifteen feet. While I worked, I thought of the movie Field of Dreams with Kevin Kostner and Encounters of the Third Kind with Richard Dreyfuss, both of whom built things without knowing why.

Mom knew I was building a room downstairs but didn’t say anything about it. I framed the whole thing and put up the drywall. Even though three of the walls were inside the house, I filled them all with insulation for sound-proofing, then started taping and mudding. I had never done this before. It looked so easy when the pros did it but I soon found out I didn’t have the knack for mudding. I put too much on, sanded most of it off, put too much back on, sanded it off, and so on, but eventually I got it done.

Mom came down about a week after I started.

“It’s kind of long and narrow, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“What’s it for?”

“I don’t know yet,” I answered truthfully.

Mom shook her head and went back upstairs.

I installed a sliding pocket door instead of a regular door, painted the walls steel gray, and put a layer of fibrous sheeting on the floor so it wouldn’t be too hard before installing the linoleum. I found an old control panel at a junk yard, cut a hole in the drywall near the doorway, wired it up and screwed it onto the wall. Only the little red and green lights on it worked but that didn’t matter; I was going for effect. I hadn’t installed any other lights so, except for those little pin lights, it was pitch black when the sliding door was closed.