1.
All this happened because of my dad staying in Atlanta. Now I was settling in to our small family cottage at the beach, but I was going to be shut in with my mom, who was going to need someone to vent to about my dad. Thank god there was going to be plenty of alcohol.
I got to the cottage before her. Unloading my things, several thoughts sunk in for me. As I carried my bags and some groceries in, I tried to work through them. Would I even be able to stand the isolation?
There was no telling how long I'd be here. Absolutely no idea. I could do my coursework online. But my gig at the restaurant was done. I had a few hundred dollars in the bank and maybe a benefits check down the road. Maybe.
It also hit me that I couldn't ever remember spending a significant amount of time alone with my mother. Certainly not as an adult. After graduating from high school and off-and-on in college till now, I'd only been around her on holidays.
Amy Moore could be quite the handful. Sometimes you'd call her lively, but just as much of the time, she could be a bitch. That's simply the truth of it.
I just hoped she left alone the whole Wendy thing. I broke up with Wendy and did us both a big favor. That relationship had been over well before we made it official. Of course, we broke up just before being shut-in, and I had no one as back-up. This felt like exile.
If mom and I could just peacefully coexist, I'd let her bitch about dad. Just so long as I could study and write. This would be the perfect time to get some writing done.
This old cottage held some great memories. Usually we'd been here during the heat of the summer. Now some coolness still lingered. Nevertheless the rich blue of the water remained the same. Nothing felt better.
I dropped my bags in the second bedroom. The master was for her, and on this trip, the third room would serve as an office, I figured. This was a nice change, since I'd typically settled for the third room. My older sister, Dana, wouldn't get the second one as she was out west with her husband. Fine by me.
Back out in the front of the place, I realized the rooms didn't look quite as big any more. I mean, they were still fine. There was just going to be the two of us.
The sofa facing the television would probably be the focal point, and the spacious kitchen and a dining room provided ample space for it all to seem enough. Damn sure beat my studio at school.
I was still standing in the living room when her Audi pulled into the driveway. Her ray bans shot straight to me as I gawked her way. Even from a distance I could see a faint smile from her. I managed to breathe out at that.
Hurrying from inside, I reached the car as she got out.
"Hey mom," hopefully there was the right spiritedness in my voice.
"Hey Jake." She beamed up at me as I went to hug her. "Not going to distance?"
I pulled her close. "I trust you. Besides. After a couple of weeks, I'll have whatever you have."
She hugged me back, and I whiffed some mix of lavender, vanilla, and something else. Was probably a fragrance more expensive than my rent. Her make-up was light but also near perfect.
Her skin appeared clearer than any twenty-something would have, certainly not that of a forty-five year old. It probably looked so clear because her thick, dark hair framed it. Even pulled up, her hair had this tossed look to it.
Still close, I couldn't believe she kept smiling.
She quipped. "Yeah? But should I trust you?"
Now
that
was more like what I expected from her.
I heard a click, and then her trunk lifted. I made my way back there to start getting her things. It shouldn't have surprised me to see her trunk packed full.
I looked back to her to make some remark, but she was already headed to the door. All five-seven of her moved gracefully, the years of dance growing-up still evident. Long, lean legs that still did cardio most days stepped with ease.
Her designer jeans made me wonder whether she had lost some weight lately, and I instantly recoiled at paying such attention to her. I wished I was watching those long legs on someone else.
As she got to the door, she glanced back to me, and a half-smile and shake of her head made me feel even more self-conscious.
"C'mon, cowboy."
Cowboy?
What the
fuck
? I chuckled a bit uneasily, and she turned back to the door and let herself in.
Her crisp, white blouse and that wild, dark hair disappeared into the house.
I gathered the bags and got myself in gear to get her unloaded. Inside, she searched about, much like I did earlier. Moving right past her, I got the bags into her bedroom and onto the king-size bed, somehow without banging about.
She entered right behind me. I unzipped each bag, opening it for her to have access, so she could get settled easier. Her steps slowed, but didn't stop behind me. Hopefully she saw I was trying to show some consideration.
Shifting to turn, I expected to see her at my side. Instead, she had slipped on into the bathroom.
"Jake."
Making my way over to the bathroom, I stood at its doorway while she washed her hands. Both of us stared into the huge mirror that stretched from one wall to the other in front of us. Her hands rubbed vigorously, and I marveled at our contrast in the reflection.
My six foot frame and broad chest and shoulders contrasted sharply with her shorter, more delicate looking presence. She still impressed with her trim and well-kept look, but there was even more of a feminine style next to my rougher, harder image of old jeans and an older, blue t-shirt.
"
Jake.
" Her higher pitch snapped me out of my thoughts. "Wash your hands, son."
Immediately, I got to the sink and lathered up.
Her tone softened a little. "I want to stay really careful, you know?"
"Uh, yeah. Yeah."
When she reached for the towel, her torso brushed mine, and I couldn't help feeling a jolt.
Her brow flexed in the mirror ahead of us. "You alright?"
As she dried off, I noticed the slightest jiggling inside her blouse.
Jake, straighten up. Have you lost your mind?
"Yeah, yeah. Everything's fine. Perfect."
She nodded and then went back to the bedroom.
Digging into the suitcases, her hands worked the belongings into the appropriate drawers and the closet as I stood over by the door. Propping my hands on my hips, I couldn't think of anything else to do to help.
"Have you talked to dad anymore?"
Soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wanted them back. Was I inviting trouble with her?
"No. Not since I talked to you." Efficiently she finished with the first bag and went straight to the next one. "I'm talking to him at five."
"Oh, okay. Good."
I was still thinking of what else to ask when she reached a layer of clothing in the suitcase that was more colorful. Red, white, and some pink satiny panties as well as bras appeared. One white lace pair particularly caught my eye.
I was awestruck that these were even hers, and I must've paused a moment too long. Her hands stopped a second, and then one hand pulled a t-shirt to cover the bundle so she could put them away.
The move got my eyes up to hers, and for the briefest of moments, our eyes met. Something in the seriousness of her expression struck me. Like she was acknowledging my stare, and holding back some remark. But
what?
She moved swiftly on over to her dresser where she put the underwear away.
Her voice lowered. "Everything good with you?"
My mouth fell open at first. Part of me felt embarrassed, but I also had to forget about being so self-conscious. This was Mom.
"You missing Wendy, I guess?"
I was quick to answer. "No. Not at all."
She gave a short smirk at that.
It was true I wasn't missing Wendy, but it was also true I had been missing any meaningful female connection for weeks. Now there was
this.
Her voice softened. "Good. ...I didn't mean to put you on the spot."
"No, no. You didn't."
She glimpsed me with some disbelief and then continued to arrange her things.
I tried to rally. "Hey, it'll be good to have this getaway, you know?"
She flinched, and chuckled. "Okay." A thought passed on her face. "Yeah, it really will."
I stood a little straighter and started leaving the room. "Let me know if there's anything I can do to help you get settled in."
"Thanks, sweetheart."
I went back into the living room, and checked my phone. It was hard to really focus on my phone though, because she had thrown me so just now. I tried remembering when we had really dealt with each other much recently, and I realized that we really hadn't. Occasional calls or some texts. That had been it.
Before much longer, I had the television on as well as getting on my phone, and she drifted about the place as she called dad. I braced a bit, and even wondered if I should step out to give her some privacy with him. Turning off the television, I eased back to the dining room with its long table and solid, high-back chairs.
Standing there in the dining room, I gazed out the large window that framed the rolling waves about fifty yards away. This place wasn't huge, but it was perfectly situated. The sun would soon be setting.
Mom's end of the conversation was surprisingly civil, and the anger at my dad never came. Shocked, I heard her just check on him, say she had gotten unpacked, and that I was fine and said hello. With some inconsequential small talk, she as off the phone with him as quickly as she had called him.
So far, the arrival and afternoon had gone nothing like I expected. I ran a hand through my hair, and listened as she helped herself to something from the fridge. I was about to tell her I was slipping out for a walk when she appeared at my side.
She had a glass of chardonnay in one hand and a chilled Modelo in the other. She handed me the beer.
"Thanks." I managed.
Looking out at the ocean, she took a long sip of her wine. I tossed back a good swig of my beer. She motioned out towards the water.
"I'm going to go for a walk. Want to go?"
I shrugged. "Sure."
We went out into the salty air, and I decided it didn't matter why things seemed off. Hell, everything seemed off a bit. Maybe she felt the same. We could each do our own thing, and just see how things were going to go.
...
2.
As the sun hovered off on the horizon, I followed her into the back. There was a small bit of grass for several yards that yielded to white sand. Blue water moved just out in front of us.
After trudging though some sand, we got to the old walkway.
Out on the walkway, her hand went to my shoulder and propped, steadying herself as she slipped off her shoes. The beer tasted delicious, standing there until she was done. I then whipped mine off.
Several more steps, and we were going down the steps of the walkway that put us on the beach. She impressed me with how she balanced her wine glass so as not to spill a drop. My hand already had the wet, stickiness of beer sloshed about.
A quick look up and down the beach showed there were just a few venturing out, and they were a good ways off.
"You sure about this?" I asked.
