My Other Mother

Part 1

"Well, what do you think?" Mum asked as she looked at the washed out gray, eighty-five

Chevrolet

Caprice

parked at the curb in front of our building with satisfaction.

It didn't look like much, however I noted that it sat well and level on an old set of black truck rims with wider than expected tires mounted to them. The antique sedan had minimal trim and seemed like a fleet, or base model.

"It's kinda cool in a... shine runner way. How much was it?"

"Twenty-five hundred. The guy I bought it from told me it's an old RCMP interceptor. This is registered in Roxy's name, by the way, same as the insurance."

"So, it's all legal?"

"Oh, yes. So, what do you think?"

"Not very pretty, but it looks... robust. The more I look the more I like... She has her own charm, that's for sure."

"I know, I kinda like it. He also said it's tough, reliable and that it'll go like a scared rabbit on rails. He modified it and was going to get it painted to use as his family car, but he got caught dealing weed recently and he has to sell some stuff off to pay for a lawyer, so I got it cheap for what he has into it."

"I like it better already. Can we go for a spin?"

"Most certainly, Sweetie Pie, in fact I have another little surprise for later, but I want to wait until Roxy gets home so we can take her too."

I leaned against the passenger door, looked at her thoughtfully and asked, "What are we doing where she's concerned?"

Mum exhaled a cloud of cigarette smoke as her brow slightly furrowed, looking at the sidewalk before replying.

"I'm going to encourage her to go her own way. I'll make sure she's good with it as far as finances and everything goes, but if she wants to stay... I'd have a hard time refusing her."

"Yeah, I don't blame you. What about her husband?"

"I've checked up a little over the phone and it appears he's just going on with his life, but who can ever be certain? Tomorrow morning I could buy her an airline ticket and give her enough money to get well and far away from here and to a place where she can easily start over again. If he or some private investigator comes looking, they'll probably end up following the paper trail of this car. Having it in her name is the perfect decoy for both her and us, the thing is that it won't work for her if she comes with us. Then it'll only be a lure that'll lead her husband or some investigator he could hire straight to her."

"And us."

She nodded, elaborating, "Trouble we don't need if we can avoid it. ... Hon, we'll be finished here by tomorrow morning and in a different province by tomorrow night. I'm going to speak to her before then... Speaking of that, we're going to have a busy evening. Jamie will be coming for his TV and game console later tonight and we have to return the microwave oven, but we have to pack as well. Also, I want to get rid of anything we're not bringing with us because I don't like the thought of leaving anything of us in that room, and that goes for Roxy and her room, too."

"Okay. ... Seems like we've been here a lot longer than we have," I noted while looking up the street at the old buildings lining its sidewalks, the few pedestrians on their way to wherever. "As much as I want to leave, I do love it here and I'll always remember this place."

"I know, it does seem like we've been here longer and I do like it here, just... not right now."

"Yeah, exactly. But somehow, I get the feeling..."

"What?" she asked.

"Well, we've been saying that we're going to come back to the Maritimes and get back on the grid once the country forgot about us."

"Yes. We'll find a nice place once everything's settled and just be."

"But... see, I have a funny feeling it won't be that simple. I have a hunch we'll never be 'settled'."

"How so?"

" ... We have a lot to sort out even without financial worries."

"I'm not denying that we have some things to sort out, but I think you're being a little pessimistic," she offered with a wise grin and a raised brow.

"Maybe."

"Definitely. Don't worry, hon, Mummy will take care."

This was what I was afraid of.

Part 2

As run down as the Caprice appeared, I found the seller's claims about its performance were genuine. It started quickly with a healthy grumble that made it sound more like a truck than Wilfe's one ton

Ford

and, once in gear, the engine idled the car away from the curb as if I'd had my foot on the throttle. On the road, it was solid and sure on its tires with plenty of power and handling, effectively a high speed tank with the agility of a good road car. This, in addition to the quick healing efforts of my face and body, had me in a pretty good mood.

"Geez, Mum, this is nice."

"I can tell you like it by that smile. A lot better than Jamie's van, huh?"

"Absolutely. It's better than the

Hummer.

"

"God, how I hated that stupid thing. The car's yours, hon. Belated birthday gift."

I grinned happily at her, no words necessary between the two of us to convey my gratitude and love.

"Where'd you get it?" Roxanne asked from the backseat.

"Some guy on the East side," Mum answered, turning in her seat to smile back at her. "You should have seen his wife."

"Why?" Roxanne asked.

Funny little French thing. Always chattering away in this really thick accent and you're never quite sure about what. When you do understand what she's saying, you sometimes think, "Huh!?""

"Yeah, the French are kinda like that," Roxy agreed with a laugh. "They'll come out with things that make you wonder if they're in touch with reality."

"Like Jean Chretien."

"Exactly. Oh my god, I loved hearing him debate and stuff."

"I know, me too," Mum laughed. "I wonder if we come off the same way to the French at times?"

"I wonder where we're going," I put in.

"Oh, sorry hon. Just keep going straight and turn right at the next intersection."

There was a bit of a cramp in my gut as I drove, taking her instructions and listening to their conversation. It was made up of half apprehension and half anxiety over Mum's surprise. It could have been anything. Anything at all.

Our first stop was a drug store where two quite attractive women waited outside. Mum had me pull up to the curb and she beckoned them over. They both wore the same clothes, well fitting dark blue slacks with matching, unbuttoned sweaters that covered white blouses with pink pinstripes. Their blouses were buttoned right up and complimented by a fancy red, hanging bowtie The embroidered logo on their sweaters matched the name of the drug store they waited in front of, the nametags opposite presenting them as 'Vivian' and 'Taylor'.

Of course, these were the two uppity makeup counter attendants Mum had told me about. Vivian looked to be in her late thirties, her body slim, somewhat tall, yet her slacks showed off some hip. Straight black hair stopped just below her shoulders, framing her face with its dark complexion and brown eyes. Taylor, the younger woman of the two, looked to be in her late twenties with fair skin, medium blonde hair and dark green eyes. She was only a little shorter than her comrade, but with slightly better curves. Both of them obviously thought themselves way too good to approach my car, or to even be there waiting outside like somebody without a ride.

"Open the door and let them in, Roxy," Mum instructed with a self satisfied grin.

A minute later, we were on our way again, our two new passengers aboard and looking at Roxy sitting beside them with disdain in my rearview mirror. After giving me directions, Mum sat sideways to speak to them.

"Hello, Ladies. Have you remembered what you were supposed to?"

They looked at one another in confusion for a second before Vivian answered, "The customer is always right," as though she resented being tested on this.

"The customer is

always

right," Taylor repeated as if Mum should know that.

"And who am I?" Mum asked.

"You're the customer," they both replied, more or less in harmonious conceit.

"And, as the customer, I want you two to just go with the flow for the next few hours or so."

"Go with the flow?" Taylor asked, the very idea of this was wrong and beneath her.

"Yes, go with the flow," Mum repeated. "Just let whatever happens happen, no matter how you feel about it."

Taylor, who must have been caught up by Mum's eyes judging by her sudden, empty expression and Mum's focus at the time, replied, "Go with the flow."

"That's right. Vivian, look at me."

A second later, in the rearview, Vivian's expression became blank like Taylor's had been.

You're going to go with the flow for the next little while."

"I'm going to go with the flow for the next little while," Vivian agreed.

I couldn't believe this. Even more so because she nudged them right in front of Roxy, like she did Joe. In the rearview, our adopted deer was looking on very interestedly.

"Take a left up here, hon. Ladies, we're going to a party. I'm sure you'll appreciate the people, they're all very friendly."

"I'll be the judge of that," Vivian haughtily proclaimed.

We ended up at a somewhat secluded house on the outskirts of town. I navigated the car from the chip seal road surface, over the culvert and into the spacious driveway that already held six or seven cars and trucks. The well maintained two storey house looked about eighty or a hundred years old with a manicured lawn and large lot, making the place look almost like a large cottage. Outside the car, country music could be heard from around back and I looked at Mum, wondering about this.

She didn't notice my concern, was instead watching the two drug store employees who were looking about themselves with some confusion. She made her way to the trunk to retrieve a huge bottle of whiskey before instructing them to follow her, Roxanne and I following behind them. Roxy looked at me with a puzzled expression, but said nothing as we walked around to the back of the house.

"Holy fuck... Women!" somebody hooted.

About ten or twelve guys, all of them sitting on a very large rear deck with beer and cigarettes stared at the four women as we came around the corner before laughing at the excited notation of their peer, one of them calling out to Mum afterward.

"Kathleen, you made it!"

The one who hailed, a big guy with black hair and beard, wearing jeans and a plaid shirt, came to the short set of stairs with a spatula from the barbecuer he'd been attending.

Mum was wearing a short, tight, rust coloured skirt with a deep paisley, short sleeved pullover that sucked in under her breasts and was just long enough to reach the top of her skirt. The top featured laces in front of her impressive cleavage, pulling it snug and allowing a view between her breasts at the black lace center gusset of her bra. This was what the spatula bearing man and, undoubtedly, most the rest of them were looking at just then.

"Wouldn't miss it," Mum replied, moving to the foot of the steps and hefting the bottle with her warm and friendly smile. "Besides, we're leaving town tomorrow as well, so I thought we'd all have a nice little wrap up party together."

The guys all thought this was a great idea and, after Mum introduced Roxy in her black Capris, black tank top and short blue, faded jean jacket buttoned at the waist, she introduced me.

"These two ladies are Vivian and Taylor," Mum went on after Roxy and I called our uncertain replies to the group's boisterous greetings, meant more for Roxy. "They just got off work and they're looking to have a really great time."

Vivian and Taylor looked at each other with uncertainty, then to Mum, then to the guys on the deck without returning their energetic greeting. Despite this, we were all invited up and given beer.

They were actually a pretty good bunch of guys, if a bit rough. They ranged from their late twenties to their late forties, all of them in good shape because, as it turned out, they were all out of town tradesmen. These were carpenters, welders, electricians, pipe fitters, machinists, etcetera and the contract they'd had with a local natural gas project had expired, all of them going home, or to a different job in some other part of the country the next day. A few of them asked me what the other guy looked like when they saw my face, but they were joking, not really expecting an answer and usually went on to tell a fight story of their own.

"Take a burger, kid."

It was the guy who greeted Mum with a plate of fresh hot ones. Who was I to refuse?

"Thanks," I said, spotting Mum's profile in the group as she spoke to one of the men with an animated smile. "Really nice place you got."

"Yeah, but expensive. They fuckin' gouge us bad on the rent because they know we gotta have accommodation and we can afford it. Ya know?"

"Yeah, that's pretty shitty."

"Name's Frank, by the way."

"Frank, this burger is excellent."

"Thanks. I marinated that pork all day."

"Really?"

"Fuck, yeah. Come on over and check out the veggies, kid."

During idle conversation and very good eats, I learned how Frank had met Mum. Apparently, he was being put out of a bar in a very rough manner one night the weekend before. He was toasted and about to get his head kicked in by two bouncers when Mum came along, seeing this and jumping in as his wife, grabbing him and yelling in his face, then the bouncers faces before quickly hauling him off in the midst of their sudden confusion.

"At first, I didn't know

what

was goin' on. There I am, drunk as fuck, about to get my face beaten in and the next thing ya know I have a

wife

who's screaming in my face..." he trailed off laughing, a bit drunk like the rest of them. "Then she let me go after we walked away a bit and started laughing at me and I saw what she did."

"Holy geez," I chuckled. "But that sounds like her, alright. I'm surprised she didn't slap the shit out of the bouncers anyway, just to make it look good."

He thought this was hilarious.

After our host turned and began discussing new weld inspection policy with one of his friends, I looked around, feeling pretty good on the beer they'd been giving me. Roxanne was laughing at something a wiry guy in his mid forties with a weathered face was saying. She followed along as he animated with his hands, making a 'T' form with them. I glanced to Mum, still talking but now with two guys, her breasts standing right out in that pullover and pushup bra.

Vivian and Taylor were another matter. They were very much out of their element and quite uncomfortable, sitting with each other in a double wide lawn chair, trying to figure out the four buzzed tradesmen who were talking to them. They were trying to go with the flow.

A short while later, the dancing started. Mum danced with Frank, Roxanne with the weathered guy to a country tune about honky tonk heroes. Vivian and Taylor refused as they refused the beer and food offered them.

"You two come on!" Mum happily ordered, but ordered nonetheless.

The men agreed with her and two of them dragged the reluctant health and beauty professionals to the clearing. They danced stiffly with their beer sodden partners and the looks on their faces were priceless.

"Oh, look," Mum frowned after the song ended. "They've brought their jobs with them. Vivian, Taylor, you two dance with each other for now."

While their partners had no problems with this, the two women were understandably surprised and hesitant. However, after some initial confusion as to who would lead, they began moving slowly with one another, holding themselves apart and glancing with embarrassment at everyone watching this.

"Get closer, it's a ballad," Mum cheerfully advised. "Closer... Yeah, right up against each other... Yeah... Now, kiss."

At this point, the collective attention of the deck was on the two co-workers, waiting to see more and they all smiled, myself included at this suggestion. For their part, Vivian and Taylor seemed stunned, but ultimately compliant. They began kissing with their eyes open, quickly brushing their unwilling lips, tits pressed together as their faces flushed.

"Let's see some tongue, ladies," Mum suggested as the men whistled and vocally encouraged things now.

Roxanne looked on with surprise, humour and continued interest, her dancing partner's hands low on her hips as he watched with a horny grin. Frank's hand was resting at the very top of Mum's ass, looking on disbelievingly, but excitedly as Vivian and Taylor heated things up between them. Every dick in attendance was soon hard, including mine, as we watched them lick each other's tongues and lips. By the time the song was over and they were french kissing, the small crowd was pretty revved up. As they were breaking up, Mum issued one last advisory.

"Vivian and Taylor are a little stressed right now because, as you can see, it's been a while since they've been with a man, but I assure you that once they loosen up a little, they go with the flow. Am I right, Ladies?" Mum asked, their eyes on hers while she returned a brilliant smile.

"We go with the flow," Vivian admitted with a little attitude.

"Yeah, we'll go with the flow," Taylor confirmed.

The two seemed confused and irritated when several men cheered and escorted them to a swinging patio couch with a sunshade overhead. I wondered how long it had been since any of these guys had had sex as four of them piled on, gently but firmly pulling the reluctant Vivian and Taylor down to sit in their laps. Their alarmed expressions were of disdain and the kind of fear that spoke more of being seen that way with those people than how they were squirming helplessly on hard cocks against their ultimate will. They glanced at each other, gasping in affront and disbelief as they were situated and held around their middle by drunken hands and good humour.

"She pointed out the stretch marks on my tits," Mum said, suddenly beside me. Pulling her shirt down a little to accentuate her statement by showing me, she explained, "Vivian, I mean. She was making fun in a so-called professional manner, thinking I was too stupid to understand that. Next thing I know, she's calling Taylor over for her 'opinion'. Rotten little bitches. I nudged them right then and there and it lasted a week."

"I've been wondering about that," I admitted, asking in a lowered voice, "How long

does

it last?"

"As far as Mum knew, a month at most, as long as their door is left open."

"Door?"

"Yes, it was her personal term. It's like... Well, I'll try to explain it another time, but notice how I only told them to go with the flow no matter how they felt about it? That way they're a bit uncomfortable with it. Heh."

"Yeah, that's... a nice touch," I toned with a laugh. "All I know is that your tits are perfect. Way better than theirs, stretch marks or no. Besides, there's something about them I like. They make you... all woman."

In response, Mum smiled and gave me a brief hug while I noticed Frank looking on with a grin.

"Let's have a good time, okay?" she happily suggested.

"I already am. Thanks, Mum."

"No prob. Hey, let's dance."

We had to keep it proper while we moved to a modernized version of

Caught in a Trap

by Dwight Yoakam, me trying not to watch her body too closely in front of everyone, but it was fun. And that's the thing about my other mother. She was always alright to spend time with back home while watching movies and stuff, but now she was absolutely great to party with, especially when I could forget about certain little mental images such as Marie's death mask.

Roxy was up dancing again, still with the weathered guy, but now also with a taller, huskier guy in his mid thirties, both of them drunk and grinning at her body as she bopped around in front of them with a carefree smile.