I looked up at her and was momentarily speechless. I swallowed nervously and nodded. “I… I’ll try not to let it happen again.”
Mother waved it off. “Think nothing of it. If it happens again, then it happens. Like I said: it’s perfectly natural.” She went back to her food, took a few more bites and then put her fork back down. “But I must know. Was that because of me?”
The teenager in me burst through and I rolled my eyes. “You’re the only woman here, Mom. Yes, it was because of you. And because of the conversation we had last night. And because I’m sitting on a launch pad of hormones! But, mostly, yeah, it was because of you.” I put down my fork in exasperation. “Would you like me to be totally honest, Mother?”
“Always,” she replied blankly. I’ve come to learn over the years that the “blank” expression on her face indicates that she’s giving her full and undivided attention to whoever is talking.
“Fine,” I said. “The truth is, I came in here totally soft, expecting breakfast. But when I saw you reaching for the jar, I found myself admiring you from behind. I’d never done that before, just stopped to admire you. You looked incredibly sexy at that moment and that’s where the erection came from. I couldn’t control it and I wasn’t even aware of it until you-”
“Almost took it inside of me,” she helpfully supplied.
“Thank God you were wearing underwear!”
Mother picked her fork back up, picked at her eggs and muttered, “YOU thank God if you want, I’m gonna have a few words with Him when I die.”
I just stared at her open-mouthed for a moment, my meal forgotten. “…what?”
She dropped her fork again and looked me square in the eye. “Look, son, accident or not, that was the closest thing to sex I’ve had in almost a decade and a half. You want to be thankful that it didn’t slip inside me? Go ahead. And, yes, part of me is thankful, too. But a much bigger part of me feels really damn cheated right about now!”
I blanched at that. “I… I’m sorry,” I said ashamedly.
Mother took a deep, cleansing breath and let it out with a sigh. “I know you are, Conrad. And I know it wasn’t something you could control. It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault. It just… happened. And I don’t mean to take out my frustrations on you. Honestly, I don’t. It’s just that… well, if we’re being honest here… last night’s conversation had an effect on me, too. Maybe I said some things that I shouldn’t have. Or maybe I didn’t say enough. I don’t know. But I DO know that you shouldn’t feel ashamed or pressured about anything, period. But it’s difficult for me, too. I look at you and I see a man. But I think of you and I know that you’re my son and that you’re still maturing. Sometimes I forget that. And this was… this was one of those times. My body didn’t really know the difference between you as a man and you as my son. All it knew was that there was a hard piece of familiar-feeling flesh nearby and in that brief bit of contact, well… the pump was primed, as they say.” She sighed again. “Conrad, this is not your problem; it’s mine.”
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