Edited by Amazon2204. Thanks Jo.
All characters are fictional. Any resemblances to persons living or dead are coincidental. No stereotyping of any kind is intended. The characters and dialogue reflect a time and place
*
At the time, my reaction to what I'd witnessed was probably quite unusual, especially for 1947. No, I'm not referring to a UFO sighting in New Mexico. When a young man discovered that his mother was bisexual, he would be expected to have a strong negative reaction. Instead, what I witnessed I found to be very exciting.
The world was very different in the Spring of 1947. World War II had ended less than two years earlier. Jackie Robinson was poised to break baseball's color barrier, but for many Americans segregation was acceptable. Though we were wealthy, my mother treated both our black and white servants with respect and warmth. Because of her example, I learned to be accepting of all kinds of people from when I was very young. I did, however, grow up in that relatively conservative era, and only now in the twilight of life, am I comfortable revealing what I saw.
Everybody said that my Mom was a beautiful woman. Sometimes people on the streets of Los Angeles mistook Mom for the actress Ingrid Bergman.
More than once, people stopped her and said, "Miss Bergman, I love your movies. Can I have your autograph? I didn't know you had a son."
She'd explain that she wasn't Ingrid Bergman, and thank them for the compliment.
Though my mother's face was nearly a double for Ms Bergman's, Mom was more shapely, with a larger chest. She wore her hair in a typical 1940's style with the dark blonde waves reaching to her shoulders. Her physical beauty was matched by her kindness and sense of humor. In 1947, Mom was 41 years-old.
Now, a few details about the other characters in my recollection. My father was a wealthy movie studio executive. He was a smart, handsome man, and could be very charming. Unfortunately, my mother didn't discover until after they were married that he was also self-centered and a hypochondriac. By then, Mom had gotten used to a wealthy lifestyle in a modest mansion with a couple of servants.
My name is Andrew. I had turned 19 in early 1947, and was taking pre-med classes at UCLA. The co-eds considered me to be a nice-looking young man, and I dated a couple of girls. I could have turned out to be a spoiled rich-kid, but my Mom didn't allow that to happen.
In late 1946, our housekeeper developed health problems and was forced to retire. Ruby interviewed for the job, and Mom hired her on the spot. I was attracted to the African American beauty from day one. Ruby had skin the color of milk chocolate, and inviting brown eyes. She was 37 years-old and divorced. Ruby wore her black hair in a style that was popular for black women in the 1940's; short with lots of waves and curls. Ruby was built like my Mom, ample chest, slim waist, and firm, shapely ass. She had full, sensuous lips and an alluring smile. Ruby was smart, friendly, warm, and had a good sense of humor. I think she sensed that I was attracted to her, and she teased me in very subtle ways.
Mom also hit it off with Ruby immediately. On several occasions, I remember coming home from classes to find Mom and Ruby sipping coffee together and laughing like old pals. I never remember my Mom acting snobbish toward anyone.
By 1947, my parent's marriage was painfully deteriorating. My father was becoming more and more difficult to live with for both my Mom and I. She probably would have left him, but she would have had a difficult time finding work, and was accustomed to the wealthy lifestyle.
I came home from class one very warm late-April afternoon, and seeing nobody, went directly to my room and closed the door. I stretched out on my bed intending to take a nap, until I heard voices coming up through the heating ducts. One voice seemed to be sobbing, so I got up to investigate. I crept down the steps and quietly followed the voices toward the kitchen.
As I got closer, I recognized the voices to be Mom's and Ruby's. Mom seemed to be upset and Ruby was consoling her. Rather than marching into the kitchen and possibly embarrassing Mom, I squatted down and surreptitiously peered into the kitchen. Mom and Ruby were sitting side by side at the table. Their backs were mostly toward me. A martini glass sat in front of each. A martini pitcher was on the table. Ruby wore a conservative black and white maid's uniform. Mom wore a light blue blouse, the shirt-tails of which had been tied under her ample breasts, exposing her flat stomach. A pair of navy blue shorts showed a portion of her shapely legs.
"You know, if Andy or me gets sick, the old fart barely asks how we're feeling," Mom half-sobbed. "He hates competition for not feeling good." She sipped more of her martini.
Ruby shook her head and said, "You deserve better." Ruby sipped more of her martini.
"Ruby, do you think I could still get another man? Do I still look pretty?" Mom slurred.
Ruby gazed at Mom and said softly, "You're sho'nuff the most beautiful woman I ever seen." Ruby's gaze was somewhere between a lovesick schoolgirl and pure lust.
"You're sure you're not just sayin' that?" Mom smiled.
The fingertips of Ruby's right hand moved gently over Mom's cheek. She smiled and said, "I'd be glad to prove it to ya." Her other dark hand moved to Mom's knee.
"Ruby, I think you're pretty too," Mom replied softly.
