Chapter 4

Mom was in our room prepping for her date with Rodrigo, the bartender. I was resigned to the fact that mom was not kidding and was going to have sex with a perfect stranger almost half her age, and it was all my fault. I parked myself at the hotel bar and sat where I could see the main entrance. I looked at my watch. Rodrigo’s shift should be over in a few minutes. I ordered a beer and waited and prayed he would not show. Fifteen minutes after six o’clock, Rodrigo came into the bar. I waved him over, greeted him and reluctantly handed him my key card.

I’m sure Rodrigo could see my agitation and worry as he tried to reassure me of his good intentions, “Do not worry, Mr. Connelly. I think your mother is a beautiful woman. I will be very good to her and treat her with respect.”

I could not help but ask, “Does this happen often? I mean, women on vacation and all, ... you know?”

Rodrigo shook his head, “Not as often as you would think. This is a family resort. Couples with kids. Honeymooners, Very few unattached women as beautiful as your mother. Yes, young girls come here, but I find them dull and unimaginative. So I ignore them. Will you excuse me unless you have more questions? I don’t want to keep Mrs. Connelly waiting.

“No, no more questions. Just be careful with her. It’s my mother’s first time in five years.”

“I understand,” Rodrigo answered, and after a slight bow, he turned and headed toward the elevators to push number 6.

It was over two hours and three beers later when Rodrigo returned to the bar.

Rodrigo handed me my room key card and remarked. “If your mother ever decides to marry again, he will be one fortunate man.”

The only response I could come up with was, “Thank you.”

Rodrigo nodded and said, “Buenas Noches,” and left the bar.

I didn’t even bother waiting for the elevator. I ran up the six flights to our room.

When I came into the room, I could hear the shower going. I took in the evidence of my mother’s affair: an unmade bed and two condom wrappers in the wastebasket. I waited impatiently for my mother to come out of the bathroom as I tried to catch my breath.

Finally, the shower turned off. A few minutes later, Mom came out wrapped in a towel. “Oh, your back already?”

“Did everything go alright? I mean, are you okay?” I know I sounded a bit frantic.

Mom looked at me like I had asked a silly question, “Why, of course, Dear. Do I look shattered or like it was my first time in bed with a man.”

I was still not convinced my mother might have enjoyed herself, “He wasn’t rough with you or forced you to do anything you did not want to do?”

Mom sat on her bed and started putting skin cream on her legs and arms, “Rodrigo was a perfect gentleman. If you must know, we talked for a while and got to know each other, and then we had a lovely time in bed,” Mom let the next two words slide off her tongue in a very sexy tone, “having sex.” She wasn’t going to stop rubbing it in that she had called my bluff.

My mother never played naive or shy when the subject of sex came up at our house. When my dad was alive, there wasn’t any pretending that they were just tired and going to take a nap when they went into their bedroom and locked the door in the middle of the afternoon. I knew what they were doing from the age of twelve when mom caught me playing doctor with Mary Jane Cummings in dad’s tool shed, and she explained the birds and bees to me.

Mom brushed by me to get her clothes, “Now get out of my way so I can get my clothes and get dressed. After all that exercise, I’m hungry, and I need a snack and a drink.”