Chapter 17

My mother said something to Jean in a low voice, then nodding her encouragement, gently pushed her away. Jean glanced at me, eyebrows furrowed in a worried expression, then back at Mom. Our mother, in a slightly louder voice, said, "It's OK, Jean. It'll be OK. Now go on in and let me talk to Billy."

I suppose one of the more dreaded expressions I might hear from my mother would be, "I'd like to talk to you." I immediately catastrophize, leaping far into the future, thinking of what bridge I might live under and if I can really stay alive selling pencils. If I sank any lower into the hot tub, my head'd be under water.

Mom walked over to the tub and said, "Well, this caught us both by surprise, didn't it?"

I made a millisecond eye contact and numbly nodded.

"Billy, we have to talk and there'll never be a better moment than this. Don't you agree?"

Again, the acquiescing nod, still not meeting her eyes.

"Tell you what... you get dressed - get warm - and we'll also sit on the back deck. It'll be private."

And then she added with a chuckle, "Unless someone's sitting in the hot tub."

After donning sweats, I walked the final mile to the guillotine and waited for Mom. How could things have gone so wrong, so fast, I wondered as I sat there, remembering that a short while ago everything had been normal? Or had it? I suppose not. My addict's mind wanted to think that nothing was wrong, but the more-normal kid who lived in my head suggested otherwise.

"For Christ's sake, Billy. You've been trying to get into Jean's pants for months - your sister for cripes sake! And you think that's normal? And then Jean tells Mom and she's gonna think it's normal? Yeah, right."

My impending suicide was thwarted by Mom sitting next to me and laying her hand on my arm, saying. "Try to calm down, Billy. It's going to be all right. Believe me."

Do they tell you to be calm before your exiled? Gonna be all right under the goddamn bridge?

I tried to talk and croaked instead. "Uh... I don't know what to say... I didn't... "

"Didn't plan this?"

"Plan it? I couldn't have imagined it!" Then I looked at her and added, "I don't know what to say."

"Try starting with the truth, why don't you?"

"The truth? You KNOW the truth. Jean told you the truth. It's true, what she said. Except that she took too much responsibility for what we did. I was the one that was pushing it all the time."

"Billy, Billy... I'm not sorting out who did what. And I'm not attempting to apportion blame. It's not a blame thing... at least as far as I understand it. But I need to know more. That's why we're talking."

I glanced at her. She gave me a soft smile and squeezed my forearm. I still didn't know what to say so I did what I did best. I just sat there like a lump.

"Son, I always knew I'd have these personal talks, these talks about sexuality with Jean and I suppose I assumed that your dad would do the same with you. I know now that that's probably an erroneous assumption. Your dad is very smart and he's well educated and quite articulate, but as you know, there's an unapproachable emotional side that shields him from things like this. I'm afraid he'll never get it together to chat with you. So, like it or not, you get me."

"Mom, you know I can't talk to dad about things like this. Cripes, I don't know how I can talk to you about it."

"We'll do OK, Billy. Let's start with general things. I gather you don't disagree with Jean's story, at least not in most ways."

I mumbled, "No, I agree... at least mostly."

"Do you have anything to add? Anything that might help me see things better?"

I was about ready to admit I didn't have a thing more to say, that there was nothing I could add to the story. Instead I began talking. "Mom, I can't tell you how much I care for Jean. I'd do anything for her and I never wanted to hurt her. Oh, there's a part of me that thinks of sex all the time - and Jean's a sexy girl, I can't deny that - but below that, I care for her too much to ever allow myself to hurt her."

"I know that, Billy. I never doubted that."

"You see, we just became really close, really good friends. I needed someone to talk to about... about my own feelings. I knew Jean would never make fun of me and that when the chips were down, she'd support me. As I would her."

"I know that, too."

"We talked about it and talked about it. We didn't fit any mold of how a brother and sister oughta be, at least about sex, but it just happened that way. We thought that if we always told each other the truth and if we always cared for each other, we'd be all right"

"Go on, Billy."

"Gee, Mom... the rest is about... you know... sex."

Smiling, she said, "Yes, I'm getting that."

"But, I feel funny. Talking about sex with you, I mean."

"Billy, you heard me tell Jean that sex is not a dirty subject. Private, certainly. And at times, very intimate. It's true that we don't talk about it with just anyone, but not because it's wrong, or bad or dirty. It's private. Well, this conversation is private. What you say here will stay here. No one else will hear what you tell me unless you tell them. I know kids think that they invented sex, that their parents got off the sexual boat yesterday... and mostly that's not the case. At least not with me. I'm a sexual woman. I was a sexual girl and not much has changed. They still do it the same way last I heard."

I could feel my face burning. I didn't look at her and mumbled, "Yeah, I guess so."

"Guess so, SHIT!"

My head shot up and I turned to look into her flashing eyes.

"Don't patronize me, Billy... don't be so damn superior. I don't know everything, but I'll bet a nickel I've seen more, imagined more and done a darn sight more that you've ever thought of. I'm an intensely erotic woman and proud of it! You could do a damn sight worse than talking with me, dude."

My mouth fell open. I stared at her, astonished, open eyed. I

stuttered.

"So let's start over, shall we? I'll respect you. I expect no less from you. OK?"

Finding me tongue, I stumbled over my words. "I'm sorry Mom. I didn't mean that... I never thought... Cripes, I don't know what I'm trying to say. But I AM sorry for my attitude. Forgive me, please?"

"Forgiven. Now let's get down to plain talk. Don't beat around the bush. Whatever words you'd use with your buddies, with Jean, you can use with me. Don't give me any of that penis-vagina crap. Say it like it is, OK?"

Wow. Where did this woman come from anyway? I've never seen her like this.

How do I talk with her? I mean, how can I turn around a life-time of behavior?

"Well... OK, I'll try... no... I'll DO it. What were we talking about anyway. I forgot."

"I think you were trying to tell me that you wanted to screw your sister."

Gulp. "I hadn't thought to say it in just those words... but yes, I guess that's about it. But I didn't! We never did it. Honest!"