Teagan, typically, had opted for a clean t-shirt and black jeans with only one hole in them. Tara was marching him back into his room as I came out of mine, so I was stuck downstairs staring at the wine rack while my kids had a less-than-subtle argument upstairs in my son’s room.
Finally they came down again, Tara looking smug. She’d obviously taken the matter of his outfit into her own hands.
Teagan had on a shirt – a proper shirt, which I hadn’t even realised he owned – along with dress pants, proper shoes and a jacket slung over one shoulder. The short and his socks, which I could just see under the cuffs of his pants, were wine-red to match my dress.
A scene from the original Jurassic Park movie flashed through my head.
Clever girl…
**********
The date-night was wonderful.
It could have gone terribly in so many ways but somehow, miraculously, it didn’t. We had dinner, we talked, had some drinks and then we even went dancing. I think Teagan was really doing his best to make me forget about his Dad. I’d like to say that it deepened my realisation of my son as a man but I was already aware of that.
He looked like he was having as much fun as I was. He wasn’t as drunk as I was, but then he was being all protective. His Dad does the same thing. Or maybe I just can’t hold my alcohol…
Maybe a bit of both.
We got to the front door laughing. I was way past tipsy but not falling-down wasted. Just leaning-heavily drunk. He had an arm around my waist and we navigated the front steps one at a time, giggling and trying not to wake Tara up. I leaned against him and rested my head on his chest as he worked out which key he was after on his key ring.
“Thanks, Mum,” he said, pausing to grin down at me. “I had a great time tonight.”
“Thanks, honey,” I slurred at him, “I did too. Great time.”
That was when I did something stupid: I reached up, languidly put my arms around his neck, went up on my tippy-toes and kissed Teagan full on the mouth. It wasn’t a motherly kiss. It was a prelude-to-fucking kiss. It was the kiss I used on people I really, really liked to convince them that they should really be taking me somewhere private and peeling my dress off.
I leaned back. I suppose he was staring at me in shock but I couldn’t really say. I had that drunken tunnel vision thing that people get and as I licked my lips, still tasting the wine and chocolate cake we’d had for dessert, the only thing I saw was his mouth.
He leaned back when I leaned forward again but I pulled his head down again and this time I felt his tongue as I slid mine along it, cursing the panties trapping the heat at my crotch, wanting to reach down to his but knowing that as soon as I let go he’d break the kiss –
Which, obviously, he did anyway.
We didn’t say anything as we went inside. Tara was actually asleep, I think, and Al wasn’t home yet. We went upstairs, he went into his room, I went into mine and then I fell bodily onto my bed, crawling inside my own skin with hunger I knew wasn’t going to get solved that night.