I'm coming, dad," Chad called out hoarsely. And he almost had been. He released his mother. She turned to the sink, away from him, where she had been grating carrots. Chad got a beer out of the frig and went into the living room.
* * *
Friday night was barbecue night. Out on the back lawn, porterhouse steaks were broiling on a gas grill, looked over by Chad's father who periodically basted the meat while downing an occasional beer replenished from an ice-filled tub.
"Damnit, don't use fork tines to turn'em, Bill," uncle Charlie, called out from the patio, where he was dancing with Chad's mother. "You'll let out all the juices. Shouldn't turn'em but once anyway."
A medley of oldies filled the star-filled night air: Rock Around the Clock; The Girl Can't Help It; La Bamba; Mixed with some slow numbers: Donna; True Love Ways; Teen Angel; etc.
Chad sat in the padded couch swing under and elm tree and watched the partying antics of his relatives and friends of the family while sipping on a beer uncle Charlie had smuggled to him.
There was plump aunt Alice, Charlie's wife, feet propped up on the lounger, sipping ice tea with a slice of lemon and a generous portion of Kentucky bourbon. His cousins, Jake and Carol, were on the patio dancing, also, with children of his father's truck-driving buddies: Bruce with his good-looking wife, Sheena; and David with his slender wife, Helen. All of whom were sitting around in lawn chairs, smoking and talking while waiting for their steaks to get done.
Chad wasn't sure how many beers he'd had, but enough, for things were beginning to turn fuzzy. Sound and sight were beginning to mesh uncontrollably in those crazy trackings that foretell drunkenness. He didn't feel sick, though. In fact he felt great.
His mother had her light-brown hair fixed up in a swirl at the back of her head. She was easily the best looking woman there. Petite, shapely. She was wearing an ankle length peasant dress that left her shoulders bared. Her full breasts jiggled provocatively under the thin fabric. A narrow elastic band held the dress up over her breasts. There was another band drawing in her waist. She was barefoot.
It was dark except for the flickering lights of several flambeaux stuck into the ground like spears. Cigars and cigarettes made their tiny meteoric flashes through drifting unctions of smoke. Words came and went without any discernible meaning.
Laughter would spill out, then die. The world was a meaningless jumble of nonsense.
At some point, Chad thought he saw uncle Charlie palm his mother's bare tit, but he couldn't be sure. Maybe a trick of light. They were dancing slow and close. Uncle Charlie had his hands on her ass, pulling her to him. They moved back into the shadows of a dogwood next to the patio. Were they kissing? Chad grew hot, jealousy singed him. Then there was anger: Him? Why not me?
There was a space of time when he must have dozed, for suddenly he was aware of someone sitting in the swing next to him. A warm thigh touched his. A cool hand touched his cheek. He smelled talc and whiskey and the faint fragrance of skin cream, perfume, all swirled deliciously together.
Some of the party--the men--had moved downstairs to the rec room to watch a ball game. Aunt Alice was snoring on the lounger. Sheena and Helen were sitting at the picnic table still eating. His two cousins were out of sight, probably playing video games in the living room with the other kids.
"I see Charlie's been up to his old tricks," his mother said, studying him. She brushed at a lock of hair that curled over his forehead. "He gets a kick out of getting you drunk. I'm going to have to get on him about this."
Sheena and Helen chuckled. "That's Charlie for you, Wilma," Sheena said.
"C'mon," she said. nudging him up. "I'd better get you to bed."
She put his arm around her shoulders and guided him toward the patio doors. Dozens of moths circled the outdoor light. She waved them from her face and hair as she helped her tottering son inside. In the dining room, she made a left through the kitchen, avoiding the living room where she could hear the buzzing, binging sounds of a video game in progress. In the hallway, leading to the bedrooms, male laughter and muffled conversation reverberated up the basement steps off the laundry room.
