I went to Victoria's for lunch the next day and was pleased to see so many of my old friends. We had all been very close when our boys were younger, but had drifted apart after they went off to college. I met other women who I may have seen before, but who were now clearly friends of the others. There was Vic, Sarah, Bonnie, Lisa, Susan, and Karen. They seemed to have a bond among themselves. You know how you can tell people who are close to each other - they laugh at each other's jokes, they smile a lot, they tease, they finish sentences for each other. These girls had that and I felt like something of an outsider. They welcomed me warmly, though, and made sure to include me in the conversation during lunch.
After we ate, Vic moved us into the den with a few bottles of a good Chablis. Leave it to Victoria to be the ultimate hostess - she had canapΓ©s and little desert cakes and cookies. We were having a grand time, made grander by the copious quantities of wine we consumed.
Everyone talked about their sons. That had been the general topic of conversation when the boys were younger, and it remained so now. There was a difference, though. When we were young Mothers, and especially when the boys were in high school, the conversations were always focused on the problems we were having with them. There was always something going on with those boys. They didn't study. They were rude. They were distant and unloving. You know the problems Mothers have with their sons.
At this luncheon, it was the opposite. The conversations sounded like a nominating committee for sainthood. Each Mother bragged about things her son had done for her, places he had taken her, how well he was doing, and how loving he was. I was envious, but my Ryan seemed in the past week to be coming around, so maybe I'd have things to brag about at future luncheons.
Then it hit me. This sounded like a group of high school or college girls, talking about how great their boyfriends were. Each Mother seemed to be trying to outdo whatever the previous talker had said. It was not done in a malicious way, but they seemed genuinely happy with life and their sons. They seemed, frankly, to be a bunch of women in love. I was a little confused by it.
In a pause in the conversation, Susan said, "It was so good to see you yesterday, Anne. I was really happy to see how close you and Ryan were. Girls," she said to the group in general, "they were walking around the mall holding hands." The whole group clapped.
I didn't know what to say. What was she implying? "Uh, well, uh, we were just doing some shopping."
"And you looked like you were having a good time. It's good to see a Mother and Son share a special love. Share a love that so few can understand."
I didn't know where she was going with that, but I was going to nip it in the bud. "You were holding hands with Matt, Susan, so don't be implying something. I don't like it. I don't know what you're talking about."
They all laughed! They laughed at me. I was furious. How dare they?
"What is going on, Susan? You invited me here, and then you all laugh at me? I don't appreciate it. Not a little bit." I was steamed.
Victoria leaned over and put her hand on my arm, calming me. "No, no, Anne. We're not laughing at you. We're laughing with you."
Susan quickly added, "Anne, either you're already there, or you're well on the way. Believe me, everyone here can recognize the signs."
I was still in the dark. "What are you talking about? Already where?"
Susan looked around the group. "Where? Where every one of us has been. We know where you're going, Anne, because we're there already."
"What?"
Susan and I had always been close. So Susan continued. "Anne, did you notice how happy every one of us is with our sons?"
"Sure," I said. "It was a different kind of conversation than we would have had ten years ago. Then, we couldn't complain about them enough."
"There's a commonality to what changed them, you know," Susan answered.
"No, I don't know."
Victoria sighed. "You're not seeing the forest for the trees, Anne. Think about it. Be honest with yourself. What has changed in your relationship with Ryan?
I knew what had changed, but I wasn't going to tell them. "I guess he's just older and wiser now."
"Older and wiser, or a mature man with needs and desires?," replied Susan.
I stammered. "Just more mature. That's all."
I could tell Susan was getting frustrated. She turned to the group. "Should we just tell her?" They all nodded.
"Tell me what?"
"Tell you the truth. I've known you a long time, Anne, and we're friends. What I'm going to tell you carries real danger for us, and I hope we can depend on your friendship and discretion."
"Sure, Susan. You know you can trust me."
"Okay. Here goes. We have all slept with our sons. They've changed because we changed them. Or, they changed for us. Doesn't matter. We're, each of us, euphorically happy with where we are. And, based on what Susan saw in you and Ryan, you're either there or on the way."
I gasped. I was speechless. I was kind of expecting something like that. I thought maybe they were flirting with their boys, as I was with Ryan, but I sure didn't think they were going to admit they were sleeping with them.
"Susan! I can't believe that. It's sick. It's perverted. It doesn't happen. Mothers don't do that, and I'm certainly never going to do it with Ryan."
"Why do you think it never happens? You're looking at every one of us, and we made it happen."
"It's just something you never hear about. It's creepy."
Susan sighed. "Creepy is the last thing it is. Delicious, maybe. Fulfilling, certainly. But not creepy. Look, you think it never happens because you never hear about it. Here we are, and we tell you it happens. None of us are going to give an interview to Rolling Stone magazine about it, though, so as far as anyone else knows, it didn't happen. Believe me, it happens more often than you think. We're not talking about child abuse. Of course that should never, never happen. We're talking about two consenting adults and it's just a fact of life that it does happen."
I didn't know what to say. I didn't want to admit that Ryan and I were probably closer to it than they suspected. Then I thought, "What the hell? They've been honest with me. I can do the same with them."