“One more question then.”
Okay,” I relented, “one more.”
“Did you ever cum like Aunt Gail did?”
“DOUGLAS!” I only used his full name when really angry or shocked. I was not angry. “I will NOT answer that! You have no right to ask such a question of your mother!”
I was hoping my head wasn’t shaking “no” while I spoke, subconsciously giving away my truthful reply. I had never in my life had an orgasm anywhere near the volcanic proportion of Gail’s. Sometimes I wondered what a real orgasm felt like because of my lifelong puny sexual responses.
“That’s a big ‘NO’ in my book,” he said, reading the truth into it.
To my relief, that’s when Gail knocked and burst into the room. I wondered what the tension would be like between her and Doug.
To my surprise, Gail greeted me then went up and hugged Doug like she usually did.
“Any coffee?” she asked. Again, her as normal. I poured us both a cup.
“Anything, Doug?”
“Nothing. Can we hurry up here, because I’m meeting the guys in a little while?”
“Doug, can you at least be polite, your Aunt—”
Gail held up her hand and said, “If he has someplace to go, he has someplace to go. I’ll make this quick then.”
She stood in front of my son and said, “Doug, I’m pregnant. And before you even ask, yes, I’m sure it’s your baby. And, I just got back from the doctor’s office for my pre-visit. I’ve decided to have an abortion, and it’s scheduled for tomorrow.”
Doug stood there with his mouth open. I stood there with my mouth open. Gail hadn’t mentioned her decision. She had been so much calmer this morning. Such a change from the distraught, blubbering mess of a few nights before. Once she came to terms with what she wanted to do, a burden must have lifted from her.
“Now that I’ve said my part,” Gail finished, “you can go have fun with ‘the guys.'”
She sat down and sipped her coffee.
“Wait! WAIT! Aunt Gail! When were you going to tell me all this? Don’t I get a say in—”
“You had your say a few weeks ago. Now, I have to make a decision about MY body.”
“Mom!” Doug looked to me for help. “Did you know?”
“Gail, are you sure? Can we talk this over?” This was shocking to me. I was completely against abortion because of my upbringing. Gail’s parents were almost hippies, or at least late hippie-ish. Very liberal in all their thought.
“Decision’s made. Done. Don’t try to argue, persuade, cajole, plant a guilt trip, or … whatever else you think might change the mind of a 42 year-old professional woman who’s spent decades building a career and putting twins through college to keep the baby of the 18-year-old high school son of her best friend. Ain’t gonna happen. Period. Which is what I missed and signaled I was pregnant.”
Another sip of coffee.
“You mean right now, right now in your stomach is your baby, our baby, and—”
‘And tomorrow, no baby. Like it never happened. The earlier the easier, and it’s only been a few weeks.”
“Does Uncle Vance know? How can you be sure it’s not Uncle Vance’s?”
“Uncle Vance does NOT know, and will NEVER know. Sex is one thing, and that’s what happened between us. Now are the consequences, and I’m trying here not to shatter all our lives. Do you understand that?”