She said, “Do you think that’s why I thought you were my husband after the accident?”
I couldn’t take the questions anymore. I rested my head on her breasts and just said, “Oh mom…”
She stroked my hair and said, “I guess that’s a yes…so strange…my son was my lover.” She sounded far off. “But I can almost understand it, you’re good looking, and so sweet, and so loving. You know Paul, it doesn’t seem wrong to me, but I can’t remember. Was it good Paul, did we love each other well?”
I said, “It was perfect mom, even when we fought, it was perfect.”
She said, “Do you want to touch me Paul…you can if you want to.”
I was in a state of turmoil. She was inviting me to touch her, but she wasn’t Paula. I gave in to my temptation hoping we could both wake up from this bad dream. I pulled down the top of her nightgown and cupped one of her tits pushing the flesh toward her expanding nipple. I put it in my mouth as I had so many times before. I sucked hard on the nipple and mom said, “Oh that’s nice Paul; that feels nice.” It wasn’t Paula talking, it wasn’t my mom. I couldn’t go on.
I pulled the nightgown back up over her breasts and said, “I have to go to work now mom, I’ll see you soon, okay?”
She said, “Okay,” as if nothing had just happened. I knew that if I had slept with her, I would never forgive myself. It would have felt as if I were taking advantage of the stranger my mother had become. It would have felt like I was cheating on mom.
As more time passed I worried. I had no encouragement until I came home from work one day and mom said, “Oh Paul, I’m glad you’re home.” That statement under normal circumstances would not be remarkable at all.” But my heart jumped, because she had smiled and there was some life and excitement in her words for the first time since the accident. She said, “I remembered some things. We went to the lake and rented a paddleboat, and we had ice cream on the lawn and it dripped on my white dress, didn’t it?”
I said, “Yes mom it did; that’s great! The doctor said that it may come back little by little. I went to kiss her as I normally did, but I thought I might freak her out so I kissed her on both cheeks. She kissed my lips, but not for long. She gave me a warm smile. She shook her head, and said, “Are you sure you didn’t tell me we were lovers just so you could get in my pants?”
I said, “Mom!”
She laughed, “I was only kidding.” I was relieved. It was her first joke. She said, “I know we were close, I can feel it, I’m sorry Paul.”
I said, “There’s nothing to be sorry about; I’m just happy you’re getting better.”
She said, “Give me a kiss.” This time it was a lover’s kiss and it lasted, and she said, “Mmm nice.”
The next night she remembered more things that we’d done, and lots of what was going on in the world, but nothing about our lovemaking. So I was surprised that when I was about to go to bed, she called me into her bedroom and said, “Paul it doesn’t matter if I remember or not, I want you to touch me like you did the other night.” Most of my reluctance was washed away by the tone of her voice.