Chapter 2

“Vic, Amy?” Mom’s voice called out to us, so we got dressed in a hurry, of course, as did Anastassia, of course.

We all enjoyed having our dirty little secret from Mom, as much as we loved her, naturally. She wasn’t ready for home truths yet, was she? Then again, Victoria Lynne Brock, nee Silverman, widow of Andre Luc Habib and Gary Mellon Brock, was born at night, but probably not last night. Even with the wine and grief, she might well catch onto us, anyway. She wasn’t exactly drunk coming back from Congregation Mitzvah on the Sabbath, of course.

“Hey, Mom, it’s just ... us ... and Anastassia,” I answered Mom, now that I was “decent,” as some folks might put it.

“What were you doing that took that long to greet me, kiddo? Something naughty?” Mom winked at me in a way that made me wonder (for the thousandth time) if she really did know what I did with Amy and Anastassia.

“Very cute, Mom. Just like you,” I flattered Mom to an extent, as her sorrows had aged her a bit of late.

Truth be told, though, Mom wasn’t really that old in appearance. She just had some wrinkles and gray hairs caused by time and grief. To be fair, I was forty-three and she had me when she was nineteen, so that put her at sixty-two. For that age, she wasn’t too badly off. She was close to retirement age, but had yet to give in to that urge. Some of that was that she loved her work as an advice columnist for a local rag. I often wondered about the advice that she gave, but no serious lawsuits happened, so perhaps she wasn’t too bad at it. Then again, she got one or two death threats, that wasn’t too shocking for her vocation.

“Flattery will get you ... everywhere, of course!” Mom burst into laughter, my playful flirtation helping to break the ice, “did you light the Shabbos candle?”

“No, Amy did earlier. She wanted to, right, sis?” I told Mom while Amy slid her right hand into the back of my pajama bottoms and Anastassia did the same with her left.

“You know ... you three seem very chummy ... almost like you’re having yourselves a sleepover. Is Anastassia your ... girlfriend ... or what? Lover? Friend with benefits, that’s the term, I think? Booty call?” Mom tried to decipher the coded clues of our body language, “oh, my ... oh, my ... you’re doing them both!”

“Um ... yeah, Mom ... I don’t see any point trying to deceive you anymore. We’ve grown ... very close over the years, Amy and I ... and well, Anastassia, she’s very intimate with me. She also has a boyfriend of her own,” I confessed.

“Wow ... wow ... wow! I really have been self-absorbed not to notice an incestuous bond between my son and daughter! Well, strictly speaking, it’s not kosher, you know that ... none of this. Still, I must confess that you’re not doing any real harm if you’ve gone this long without any actual inbreeding. As for Anastassia, well, as long as she knows ... and her boyfriend knows ... it’s well, consenting adults, right?

“This is the twenty-first century, I would say. I’m not sure just how angry God would get about this. That’s between you three and him ... and I’m not a complete prude. Not absolutely. I mean, morally, this is all wrong, I think. It flouts the Torah, canon law, at least one state law, and most of society’s conventions, but you’re not ... you know ... hurting anyone. I’ve read a lot worse in my advice column, trust me.

“I just ... well, I hope that somehow, I get some grandkids out of this who don’t have webbed feet and warped psyches, that’s all I ask of you guys,” Mom sounded as flustered and flummoxed as she looked, of course, at my confirmation of the truth.

“Well, we’re all adults here, even Amy,” I managed to tease my baby sister, triggering a wet willy.

“All consenting adults, too, Mrs. Brock,” Anastassia added hastily, a lump forming in her throat for a moment there, “as you yourself noted.”

“Have you eaten anything yet, Mom?” Amy cleverly changed the subject, allowing Mom to relax a little.

“No ... not yet. I haven’t had any wine yet this evening, though I’ve smoked enough cigarettes to give me emphysema already today,” Mom acknowledged.

“Mom ... you need to eat. All of us do. Since it’s the Sabbath ... let’s just ... call for some delivery. That shouldn’t take so long. And in case you wondered, yes, this is ... rapidly turning into a sort of sleepover, I guess,” I encouraged Mom while giving her a slight kiss on the cheek.

Mom then grabbed my face and planted a lip lock on me, much to my shock.

“Sorry, don’t read anything into that, Romeo. I just wanted to know what the girls here were getting ... what the fuss was about ... damn, son! Sorry, didn’t mean to swear on the Sabbath, but you get the idea. Is that a snake in your pajamas or are you just happy to see me?” Mom teased me a little.

“Mom ... truth time ... are you sure that you didn’t have any wine today?” I confronted Mom, having sworn that I could smell it on her breath.

“Okay ... maybe a little with my rabbi at his place after temple ... he’s kinda cute! You two should go to temple again. Maybe Amy could marry him and you could find a good Jewish girl who isn’t your sister to wed,” Mom giggled a bit.

“Alright, Mom, I’m cutting you off at least until the pizza shows up ... your usual?” I asked Mom, not taking anything that she said too seriously right then.

“Yep ... veggie pizza! Yummy! What about you guys?” Mom answered while I got my revenge by slipping my hands down the backs of Amy’s and Anastassia’s bottoms in turn.

Both girls squirmed a bit, but I could smell their arousal ... and so could Mom. She just gave me this look that said...”holy smokes, how did I make such a man ... little ol me.” I got the impression that Mom found me physically attractive now, even if she didn’t before, but then she was lonely and at least half-drunk. She had badly understated her level of intoxication now.

I just hoped that Rabbi Michael Schulman took her car keys and drove her home himself if he was gonna get her that buzzed. Well, at least she made it home safe, but I wasn’t too thrilled with the rabbi right at that moment. If he wanted to seduce her, fine, but leave the wine out of it when dealing with a drunk. To be fair, maybe he didn’t know that she was a lush, but in that case, what kind of a rabbi was he?

“Sausage ... I adore ... sausage!” Amy winked at me as she made her double entendre clear.

Anastassia then answered, “So do I, but pepperoni in my case. Some ... kind of sausage are better than others ... and it’s clear that none of you are kosher.”

“That obvious?” I chuckled, making Mom snort the Perrier that she grabbed to drink until I permitted her to have some more wine.

“You three ... wow ... what’s it gonna be like if or when I meet Anastassia’s boyfriend?” Mom laughed and blushed some more.

“Mom’s what gotten into you? All strict and observant one minute, flirting with my brother the next? Catching onto every last double meaning and pun, too, giggling like a schoolgirl? You sound almost as if something is ... bothering and you’ve just ... stopped giving a fuck or something, pardon my French,” Amy confronted Mom now.

“Um ... okay, promise not to freak out? Please ... it’s ... horrible news. I ... some weeks ago ... I went through a routine health check ... and ... lung cancer!” Mom broke down into tears.

“Mom ... can’t they do chemo, operate, give you radiation?” I pulled Mom close and she cried on my shoulder now, even as I knew better.

“No, baby ... it’s far too late. Stage IV. I’m dying. I have ... maybe, with chemo, which would just make my end longer and less enjoyable ... three months, four tops. And that’s if I quit smoking now, but at this stage, what would be the point? Without chemo or radiation, I’m a goner in just ... six weeks. Hence the gallows humor earlier. Oh ... honey ... I’m so scared!” Mom held tightly to me while I held her close and let her cry it out, all of us very sad now.

“Shhh ... shh ... we’re gonna miss you, Mom ... but we’re not going anywhere. We’ll be with you, every last step of the way. Any other news?” I tried to lighten the mood a little with a joke.

“Well, the rabbi popped the question after I told him the news. That’s why he gave me some wine. At this point, he figured, what harm could it do? It might even steel my nerves here or there as I face my doom. I told him that he should hit on Amy, not me. He doesn’t need to be a widower. I know that pain all too well from two husbands dying on me. I don’t wanna put him through that. He’s a good man,” Mom informed us.

“What did he say to that?” I wondered now.

“Yes, Mom ... I gotta know. Mind you, I’m not getting married. I refuse. I can’t marry the man that I love, so I’ll stay Ms. Amy Cordelia Brock for the rest of my days. Mom, please ... accept us. I don’t want any differences at this point of our lives,” Amy spoke a mouthful now.

“Yes, Mrs. Brock, please accept us ... fully. We love your son, far more than even we knew, I think,” Anastassia reassured Mom, “we’ll take great care of him, I swear. Married or not, whatever it takes, I’m never dumping Victor.”

“In that case ... call me ... Mom, please. And he told me, in no uncertain terms that ‘Amy’s cute and all, but she’s not the woman that I love. That’s you. I follow my heart in matters like this, and my heart chooses you, Vicky.’ He knew ... from what I’ve told him, how painful and hurtful it could be, but he hasn’t experienced it yet. Check in with him for me, now and then. He’s gonna be your new stepfather, the last, the one who will finally outlive me,” Mom informed us now.