The summer seemed to last a long, long time and I threw myself into the hard physical labor of landscaping. Slowly July passed one long day after another, and then August arrived and I knew I would be leaving before the end of the month.
Returning home in the spring, I had given $200 to Mom, telling her that I had been sending sketches to Ali and she had sold them. Mom tried to give the money back, but I knew she needed it, and told her if she didn't want it then she should use it to buy something frivolous for herself, of something nice for Sarah. Over the rest of the summer I added a little extra from the balance to my regular contribution until it was all gone, and topped it up with most of the money I had made from the Harris drawings.
As my departure came closer Mom seemed to change when she was around me, treating me like an adult instead of a teenager, trusting me with the kind of things she had never done before. We even found ourselves sitting up late one evening after Sarah had gone to bed, lazing outside in the small yard with a bottle of beer each, while she told me she didn't think she needed men any more. She said she felt content as she was, and didn't want to risk any more pain or grief. As we spoke she reached her arm out and offered her hand and I took it in mine and we sat there side by side.
"But Mom," I said. "You're still young, and you're still attractive. There must be any number of men who would want to go out with you."
"But I don't want them, Tom. I've gotten used to it being me, and I'm happy like this."
"But you must have..." I started, then stopped. I had been feeling grown up, about to fly the nest, but realized I had been about to go too far.
"Must have what, Tom?" Mom asked.
"Nothing," I said.
"No Tom, it's alright, you can say what you want now, you know that." She squeezed my hand, still gripped in hers.
I took a deep breath. "Well, you must have needs, Mom. There's love, there's emotion, and then there's... you know..." I felt myself redden.
"You mean sex, Tom?" Mom said.
"I guess, yeah."
"That would be nice, yes," she said. "But I don't need a man for that. There are... other ways."
I looked across at her. She was staring out over the back yard, maybe deliberately avoiding my eyes, and I recalled the morning I had heard her masturbating in her room.
"I just don't like to think of you on your own, without someone around to help out," I said.
"I'm fine, Tom."
"You'll tell me if you aren't, won't you Mom?"
She turned to look at me and smiled strangely. "I'll make sure you know, Tom," she replied.
The sky darkened above us and insects began to sound. Eventually we got up, kissed goodnight and went to our rooms. As I lay in bed looking at the shadows on the ceiling I felt as if some seismic change had occurred, some hidden fault had shifted and I had moved from one place to another place, a new place. I just wasn't sure yet where that place was.
As the first week of August ended Ali called.
"Tom, can you get up here early?"
"Um, I guess, if I need to. Why?"
"The apartment's ready and it would be great if you could help move us in. And I want you to choose your own stuff."
"I can't afford much stuff, Al," I said.
"I can help out, you know that."
"I want to pay my own way," I said.
"And you will, Tom. You will. Can you come?"
"I'll talk to Mom. She might not want me to leave early. I'll call you in the morning."
But Mom said she didn't mind me leaving before I was due. I had finished working with Dag the previous week, and had planned two weeks at home doing nothing much before I traveled north. I called Ali back and said I'd be arriving late Wednesday evening.
Before I left Mom took the three of us out for dinner. We didn't go anywhere up market, just a local restaurant, but it felt real nice to be a family for the night and we talked about things we all remembered, the good times we had shared, and didn't mention any of the hardships.
When we got home Sarah had fallen asleep in the back of the car and I lifted her out and carried her upstairs then Mom got her into her pj's and tucked her in. I went downstairs and locked up the doors and windows. I was standing looking out at the yard when Mom came down and put her arms around me from behind and hugged me tight. I was conscious of her large breasts pressing into my back, and felt bad when I started to become aroused.
"Follow your dreams, Tom," Mom whispered in my ear. Her breath was warm on my neck, and she smelled good after showering and applying a tiny amount of her good perfume for our evening out.
I turned round and put my arms behind her back, rested my chin on the top of her head.
"Are you going to be okay, Mom?"
I felt her nod. "Of course."
"If you need anything, you know where I am. Call me."
She nodded again. I hugged her tighter. "I'm going to miss you," I said.
"I'm going to miss you too," she answered, and lifted her face for a kiss. It was just the one, but her lips felt warm, and softer than I had ever felt them before, and it went on longer than any that had gone before. I felt Mom's lips part and her mouth open to me and then, before I did something I was going to regret, I pulled away.
She shivered and stepped back. "I think I'd better go to bed. G'night, Tom."
"Goodnight, Mom."
In the morning I packed my bag and walked to the bus stop. Mom offered to drive me to the Greyhound station but I told her to stay with Sarah.
Sarah cried and didn't want to let me go, and I had to disentangle myself from her and sit her on a chair. I could feel tears in my own eyes as well as I kissed Mom and strode away from the house. It was turning out to be far harder than I imagined, but I closed down my feelings and made myself continue walking away.
The bus trip was long and dull, and when I arrived in New York the light had faded from the sky but Ali was there again to meet me. She stood under the street lamp in blue jeans and the same blue denim shirt with pop studs, and my heart did all kinds of strange skips and jumps in my chest.
She hugged me, kissed me and took my arm, leading me away through the night. But only as far as another bus.
"Aren't we going to your place?" I asked.
"We are," she said. "Just not my old place."
I grinned. "When did you move in?"