“No guarantees,” I answer, trying to control my breathing. “But I’m going to give it my best shot. We’ll start tomorrow right after school. Bring your homework up here and I’ll have a plan ready for us,” I tell him, hoping I’m doing the right thing. “But right now, I’ve got to get ready for work.” I work the night shift at the local hospital.
“Okay,” he says, standing up. “Thanks, Aunt Sara. You’re the best,” he says, giving me a big hug.
“See you tomorrow.” I spend my entire shift at the hospital thinking about Jeremy’s problem. During my break, I talk to our resident speech therapist about how to overcome stuttering problems. By the time my shift is over, I’ve got a strategy for Jeremy that just might work but I figure I better run it by my sister. I e-mail her from the hospital computer and arrange to meet her for breakfast when I get off.
“Well, the good news is, he’s not gay,” I tell my sister over coffee in the hospital coffee shop. My shift just ended and Jenny came by after dropping Jeremy off at school.
“Thank heaven,” she says with a sigh of relief. “Not that we wouldn’t have been supportive but it’s a cruel world out there when you’re different,” she smiles. “You said that was the good news, does that mean there’s bad news?” I tell her about Jeremy’s stuttering problem as delicately as I can but she just cuts to the chase.
“So whenever he has a hard-on, he can’t talk?” she laughs. “How is he different than other men?” she laughs louder. I laugh with her but try to explain the extent of Jeremy’s problem.
“There’s an approach that utilizes total immersion to overcome these kinds of disorders,” I tell her, trying to sound as clinical as possible.
“Total immersion?” she asks.
“Yes,” I take a breath and give her the one-two punch. “If we can help desensitize him to the stimulus that causes the erection, then the stuttering should stop,” I explain.
“Desensitize him to girls?” she laughs. “Is that possible or even desirable?” she asks. I’m starting to realize that all the laughing is nerves. I try to set her at ease while I explain.
“Not girls,” I correct her. “Scantily clad girls. He didn’t have a problem when I wasn’t in my bikini.”
“So what, take him to the beach?” she asks, raising her eyebrows. “I don’t understand how this works, Sara.”
“What I propose is that I act as the stimulus,” I tell her cautiously. “I will invite Jeremy to do his homework at my apartment everyday after school. I will wear my bikini while I help him with his homework. According to the speech therapist, if he concentrates on something completely unrelated to the stimulus he will eventually get desensitized and stop stuttering.”
“Do you think it will work?” Jenny asks, apparently unconcerned that I’ll be exposing most of my body to my teenage nephew.
“We can only try,” I shrug.
“Thank you, Sara.” Jenny says. “I suppose this is more than you bargained for when you volunteered to find out if Jeremy was gay,” she says, looking at her watch. I don’t dare tell her how much I’m looking forward to helping my nephew or how wet I got looking at the bulge in his pants.