We spent most nights together watching TV and talking. Being eighteen and oh, so extra-virgin, and obsessed with all things love and sex, my questions were always thinly disguised in the context of her.
“Mom, how do you know if a girl wants you to kiss or touch her?” With a rueful smile she hesitated before giving what sounded like a confession.
“Tommy, I’m afraid I really can’t help you much, I’m no expert. My only real experience was my first – and last – formal date. I had just turned eighteen; we were both starting our senior year in few weeks. I was a skinny, flat-chested girl that none of the boys ever paid attention to. When he asked me to go to a movie I was a nervous wreck. My girlfriends helped me with my makeup and hair, and they picked out the clothes for me to wear. Everything that happened was my fault, really. After the movie we ended up alone in his car. I shouldn’t have let him take me parking, I mean, first date and all. Good girls don’t act that way, but he was so charming that it didn’t seem wrong.”
Mom was distant, vividly reliving the past.
“He told me ‘You’re so beautiful.’ No one ever said that to me. ‘I’ve had a crush on you for a year. I’m so happy you went out with me’. He had my heart soaring to the stars. I loved the feeling of kisses and being held by him. Then he started to get really touchy-feely and I got scared. He began to turn from the boy of my dreams into an aggressive monster. He kept grabbing at me and soon he discovered I was wearing a padded bra. He laughed at me.”
She shook her head and wiped tears from her eyes.
“He laughed at me.”
Reaching for Mom I held on to her for dear life.
“He said ‘What kind of stupid slut would try to get a guy with fake tits?’ He was so cruel. He kept saying horrible things, it was worse than what he did to me.”
She composed herself somewhat.
“Nine months after that night I had you in my life. You must know this: you were worth it. If that’s what I had to go through to find the love of my life it was worth it. No regrets, none at all. I love you more than you’ll ever know. I always will.”
I concluded no voices from the Nine Choirs of Angels were in attendance singing joyfully during my conception. How much Mom had been through! Her first date rapes her physically and psychologically. Her father, the one man who should have helped her heal from the trauma, rubs salt in her wounds and abandons her. Both of these A-holes made sure her wounds festered by planting the thought in her head that she was an s-l-u-t. Karma: may they both be bent over when receiving theirs.
Mom was two personalities; one, a scared and confused eighteen year-old girl; the other, a mother who was solemnly committed to do whatever was best for her son. I thought it best not to ask any more questions.
“Mom, let’s go for a walk. There’s supposed to be a spectacular meteor shower tonight.”
There wasn’t, but it was a little lie for the greater good. We only saw one shooting star, but walking hand in hand and oh-so-close, we had a great time and it did wonders for her soul.