Chapter 7

“So, happy birthday again, honey,” Diane said, lifting her glass to Mark.

“Thanks, Mom,” Mark said, smiling.

Mark looked at his mother with new appreciation. She looked beautiful! Ringlets of chestnut-brown hair framed high cheekbones and accentuated the sleek line of her jaw. Her eyes were a sparkling hazel, the irises reflecting moss and gold. Her face was slightly flushed. She had one arm draped over the back of the couch behind Mark’s head.

“Mmm, very nice!” she said, tasting the champagne. “Why you bought the champagne when it’s your birthday, I don’t know. Did you bring it all the way from home?”

Mark laughed. “No, I picked it up on the way in from the airport.”

“And snuck it into the fridge?”

“Well, it was while you were getting dressed.”

Diane had worn a long, flowing black dress and pearls to dinner.

Champagne and pheromones, Vivian had said. No better combination.

“So, how do like the new abode?” Diane said, waving a hand toward the expansive living room.

“I think it’s fabulous,” Mark said. “I like the layout and the view is spectacular.” He stood up and walked to the window. For a moment, he looked out at the sparkling New York City skyline. Then he took the opportunity to close his eyes and concentrate on generating pheromones the way Vivian had taught him.

Feel it¸ she had said. Feel the magnetism. Project it.

His mother’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“You really like that view,” she was saying.

He turned.

“Yes, it’s incredible.”

“You could buy a Pacific island for what we paid for it,” Diane said. “But I absolutely love it. I think your father does, too. Of course, he’s never here, so he doesn’t get much chance to appreciate it.”

He walked back to the couch and sat next to her again.

“Where is he now?” Mark said. “I lose track.”

“Rome,” said Diane. “He wanted me to come with him, but I didn’t want to sit in the hotel all day, or spend money on things I don’t need.”

“What’s he doing in Rome?” Mark said.

“Moving vast sums from one account to another with lots of Italians benefiting,” she said, drily.

Mark laughed.

“So, how did you like Enzo’s?” Diane asked.

“Loved it,” said Mark. “The carbonara was terrific. Best I’ve ever had.”

“I think that waiter thought we were a couple,” Diane said. “Remember he said to the wine steward ‘This lovely couple would like... ‘ whatever it was you ordered for us. And then they gave us that free lemon after-dinner drink, what was it?”

“Limoncello.”

“Yes, I think they thought it would help you get me into bed.”

Mark laughed.

Diane held out her glass.

Mark lifted the bottle from the ice bucket and filled her glass. As he did, he concentrated again, remembering Vivian’s words: Project that energy. Feel her being drawn to you...

Their eyes met over the top of her glass. There was an expression in his mother’s eyes different from any he’d seen before. A combination of smokiness and softness.

“I’m a little flattered that the waiter thought we were a couple,” Diane continued. “You’re so handsome,” she added, running her hand down the back of Mark’s head. “I actually don’t mind being associated with you in that way.”

“Oh, Mom!”

“You’ve always been good-looking – you got that from your father – but you’ve grown into a very attractive man. Julia’s a lucky girl.”

She moved closer to him on the couch and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Mmm, you smell good, too,” she said, breathing in deeply through her nose. “What do you have on?”

“Nothing.”

“Well, then you’re naturally well-scented,” she said.

Mark laughed. Her eyes held his.

“Is there something different about you?” she said. “Your hair?”

“No,” said Mark. “Just the usual me. Why?”

Her eyes were wide and luminous.

“Hmmm. I don’t know. Something just seems different. Call it feminine intuition.”

She leaned closer to him.

“You have your father’s eyes,” she said, staring into them. He could feel her warm breath against his face. She glanced down at his mouth.

Then, abruptly, she pulled back.

“Whooo,” she said, shaking her head.

“What?” Mark asked.

“I ... I don’t know. I was thinking about something.”

“About what?” Mark said.

“Oh nothing,” she said, taking a long drink from her glass.

Mark poured them both some more champagne, concentrating. He visualized her being physically drawn toward him, leaning forward...

She lifted her glass to his.

“Here’s to you,” she said. “Twenty-seven years ago. I remember it as clearly as yesterday. You were such an adorable baby. You were a lovely child.”

Mark smiled. “Thank you.”

“So, what were you thinking about?” Mark pressed.

She was quiet for a long moment.

“I was thinking that I always liked it that you kissed me on the mouth,” she said. “You did that from the time you were very little. You were two or something. And you still do.”

“Old habit,” said Mark.

“Well, one most people seem to outgrow. I don’t see children kissing their parents on the lips. Particularly not after they become adults.”

“So that’s what you were thinking about?” Mark said.

“Sort of,” she said, looking into his eyes. She glanced down at his mouth.

“You have a pretty mouth,” she said.

“Pretty?” said Mark.

“Yes, I think that’s the right word,” she said, looking at his lips. “And here’s a birthday kiss.” She leaned over and kissed him gently on the lips. “And I’m going to remember to give you a birthday kiss every year from now on.”

“Thank you,” Mark said.

“A pretty mouth is a kissable mouth,” she said, looking down again at his lips. She smiled softly, her eyes lustrous.

Mark concentrated some more...

She reached up and ran her hand along the side of his face.

“Don’t look so serious,” she said.

Mark smiled.

“How did I get such a handsome boy? Well, I married your father,” she said, answering her own question. “I’ll bet Julia kisses you all the time.”

“Well, not all the time.”

“Well, she’s missing out, then. I’d take full advantage if I were her.” Her words were slightly slurred.

Mark was silent, concentrating...

“You’d look good on the big screen. You have movie star looks,” she added.

“No I don’t.”

“Yes, you do. Look at that chin,” she said, cupping his chin. “Kirk Douglas had nothing on you.”

“Who?” Mark said.

She laughed and kissed him quickly on the lips again.

“Michael Douglas’ father,” she said. She lifted her champagne glass and drained it.

“Okay, just one more and that’s it.”

Mark poured. She lifted her glass.

“It’s been a lovely evening. You’re a wonderful date.” She sipped.

“Thanks. You, too.”

“I’ve had too much champagne,” she said, still sipping from her glass. “Good thing it’s you, or you’d be trying to take advantage of me right now.”

“Take advantage of you?”

“Well, you know – what boys do...”

She stopped herself.

“Ooh, I really have had too much champagne. I’m saying things I shouldn’t,” she said.

“It’s okay,” Mark said.

“Well, I think I should go to bed,” she said. “Don’t you?”

“Whatever you’d like,” he said.

“I may need you to pour me into bed,” she said, giggling.

Mark laughed.

“Okay,” she said. “But first a goodnight kiss.” She leaned forward.

Mark felt her lips press against his. They lingered. Her eyes were closed. He concentrated, imagining her body pressed against his.

Finally, she pulled back.

“Whooo!” she said. “See, I told you had kissable lips.” She lifted her forefinger to his lips and traced their outline. She licked her lips. “If I weren’t your mother, I think I’d be kissing you differently.”

“Differently, how.”

“Oh, come on, honey!”

“How?”

She shook her head. “Differently like...” She leaned forward and kissed him again. This time, he felt the tip of her tongue dart between his lips.

“Know what I mean, now?” she said, leaning back.

“Yeah. Nice.”

“Nice?” she said. “I’m your mother. That can’t be ‘nice!’”

“Yes, it was.”

“Really?” said Diane, looking down at his mouth.

“Really. I love it when you kiss me.”

“Hmmm. Okay, well I’m going to kiss you goodnight one more time, and that’s it.”

She leaned forward and their lips met. After a moment, he felt her lips part, felt her tongue. He opened his mouth and felt her tongue briefly exploring his.

She pulled back and breathed in deeply. Her eyes were still closed.

“Oooh, I’ve definitely had way too much champagne,” she said, opening her eyes.

“I’m king of glad you did,” said Mark.

“Mark, you cad. Getting your mother liquored up and taking advantage of her!”

Mark laughed.

“Although, I guess I started it. Flirting with my own son.”

“It was nice. I liked it.”

“Mark! It can’t be nice with your own mother!”

“Well, it was.”

“That may be the case. But I shouldn’t have done it. We shouldn’t have done it.”

“Maybe not, but I’m glad we did.”

“You’re a good kisser. You must be ... a siren. A male siren, if there is such a thing.”

“A triton?” Mark said.

“Isn’t he the guy with the trumpet? I mean the trident.” She giggled again.

“I think that’s Poseidon,” Mark said.

“Oh. Well, anyway, you’re a triton. Luring innocent women to their doom.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. How else would you get your own mother to kiss you like that?”

“Just lucky, I guess.”

“Hmm, must have inherited that from your father. Like father like son. Seductive.”

Mark smiled in appreciation.

“Speaking of your father, he’s never around. He was supposed to be back last Thursday and he’s still in Rome. I got something to welcome him home. But now I’m not going to show it to him,” she said, pouting. “He had his chance and he blew it. In fact, I’m taking it back.”

“What did you get him?”

“Well, it wasn’t for him. It was for me, but I know he would have liked it.”

“It? What?”

“The kind of thing you wear for your husband if you haven’t seen him for a while and if he’s been good, which he hasn’t.”

“Oh,” said Mark.

She looked at him, thoughtfully.

“I should send him a picture of me in it. That’ll get him back here pronto!”

“Sure.”

“But how would I take it? It’s not like I have a Selfie Stick. God, I hate those!”

“Well, if you want, I can just take a picture of you.”

Diane was quiet for a moment.

“I don’t think so.” There was a pause. “When?”

“Whenever you want. Well, I guess it has to be either tonight or tomorrow. I’m leaving the next day.”

“You obviously have no idea of the kind of thing I’m talking about.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a negligee. A very revealing negligee.”

“Well, I won’t really look. I’ll just take the picture.”

“It’s not the kind of thing you’re supposed to see your mother in.”

“Okay,” said Mark. “But I’ve seen you in skimpy bikinis.”

“Different, Mark. Very different.”

“Oh,” Mark said.

“Well, if we’re going to do it, we’d better do it now while I’m plastered,” she said, rising somewhat unsteadily from the couch.

She stood over him.

“Taking it ... a picture with what?” Her words were now definitely slurred.

“Your cell phone.”

“Okay, it’s right there,” she said, beckoning.

Mark picked up the phone.

“Okay, I’m going,” she said, turning and walking toward the bedroom.

“Don’t look, okay, just take the picture,” she said and disappeared into the bedroom, closing the door.

Mark could faintly hear drawers opening and closing.

The bedroom door opened a crack.

“I think I’m getting cold feet,” Diane said.

“That’s okay,” Mark said.

“I hadn’t remembered just how sheer this nightie was.”

“What if I keep my eyes half closed and just take the picture?”

“That’s ridiculous. I should just go to bed in it.”

“Ok. Fine. Whatever you want to do.”

“All right, get the phone.”

“I have it.”

The door slowly opened.

Mark saw her appear and knew immediately why she had been so hesitant. The nightgown was almost translucent, with a plunging neckline and a hem that barely extended below her groin. He could see the lush swell of her breasts, dark tips showing clearly through the gossamer fabric.

“Okay, here I am. Take the shot,” she said.

Mark quickly took three pictures with the cell phone.

“Okay, let me see it,” she said, walking quickly over to him, holding her arm across her breasts.

She sat down on the couch next to him.

“Oh my God!” she exclaimed immediately. “Delete those. They’re practically pornographic.”

Mark laughed. “No they’re not.”

“I’ll sit on the couch,” she said. “Go over there and take it again. And delete those.”

“My, you’re bossy.” Mark stood up with the phone and walked a few steps on the carpet. He turned around.

She had pulled her legs up onto the couch and curled them against her thighs. Her arm was still over her chest.

“Okay,” Mark said. “Can you just move your arm a little?”

“Hmph!” She gave him an exasperated look.

“Okay,” she said, dropping her arm.

Mark quickly took several photos. As he did, she swung her head to the left and lifted her chin.

“Great,” said Mark. He could see that her nipples had hardened in the cool air.

“Okay, show me,” she said, holding out her hand.

Mark walked over and handed her the phone. He sat beside her.

“How do I...?” she said, gesturing at the surface of the phone.

“Here,” Mark said, taking the phone. She leaned into him to look at the phone. He could feel the warmth of her breast against his upper arm. He felt himself swelling.

As he swiped through the photos, Mark concentrated. Magnet.

“Oh my God!” she said. She pulled her arm up to cover her breasts again. In the photos, the darker coloration of both her nipples and pubic area was obvious through the diaphanous fabric.

“Doesn’t leave anything to the imagination, does it? God, I can’t believe I let you do that!”

“You’re gorgeous, Mom.”

She looked at him.

“Really?”

“Beautiful. In the pictures and in the flesh.”

“Yes, and there’s a lot of that showing!”

She looked up at him.