Chapter 12

The following evening, Katy had joined them for dinner. The four sat around the dinner table, Glen totally silent while Katy and her mother made small talk. Phillipe had twice, without saying anything, caught his mother's eye, a slight smile curling the corner of his mouth. Helen, at first, tried to return a motherly smile but the boy's intent was clear and she soon found herself averting her eyes in embarrassment.

"Didn't you tell me the other day that Rachel Donovan was coming for a visit?" asked Katy.

"Uh... uh..." stammered Helen, reddening.

"She certainly did," smiled Phillipe innocently, the double entendre unnoticed by his sister and father, but his mother squirming uncomfortably.

"Did you two have a good visit?"

"We... uh..." Helen replied, again at a loss for words.

"Actually she came to have a talk with me," said Phillipe.

"What would she want to talk with you about?"

"Oh, you'd be surprised. Actually we found we had a lot to share with each other." Again the statement had a double meaning only for Helen who looked at her son in fear, afraid he would reveal what had taken place and set off another explosive reaction from Glen.

"Share?" asked Katy. "What would you and Rachel Donovan have in common?"

"Well, it took a while, but when she stripped away all the things which covered her true feelings, she opened up to me and we engaged in some meaningful intercourse."

Again the double entendre went undetected by his sister and father, but Helen felt her face burning and continued to squirm in her chair.

"Playing psychologist now are we?" smirked the older sister.

"Perhaps. However, we did eventually get to the bottom of things."

Phillipe cast a quick glance at Helen who looked quickly away. He smiled. "When we finished she said she was really glad she had come."

"Oh really," replied Katy skeptically.

"Yes. She told me she'd like to come again, so I told her she could come as often as she liked. Isn't that right Mother?"

Helen's head snapped up. "Uh... yes, I... guess so."

"You really helped her?" asked Katy, incredulously.

"She told me she had discovered things she never even knew existed."

"Well, if you're really that good, maybe you should analyze me," kidded Katy.

"NO!" exclaimed Helen, realizing she had shouted and now had the other three staring at her. "It's... uh, just that Katy isn't ready for that sort of thing."

"Why not?" asked the daughter.

"Because... because you don't need it. You're a well adjusted teenager. That sort of thing is for troubled adults."

"Mom's probably right," chipped in Phillipe. "I probably have the best results with adults -- like Rachel Donovan... or... Mom!" Helen's and Glen's heads snapped to attention. "Mom's been wanting to talk with me anyway so why not make it beneficial to us both," smiled the younger brother.

Now all eyes were on Helen who had been backed into a corner and knew it. "I... I... of course we can talk."

"Great!" replied Phillipe looking over to his father and smiling triumphantly. Glen, flustered but not wishing to make a scene, finished his dinner in silence.

After dinner when Phillipe volunteered to help with the dishes, Katy retired to her room to study for a sociology test. Glen, after helping clear the table, retreated to the living room to watch a game on TV, leaving Phillipe and his mother alone in the kitchen.

Even though Glen was little more than thirty feet away, Helen was nervous. She tried concentrating on the soapy dishes, but Phillipe's voice jarred her back to the reality which stood next to her.

"You don't need to be so nervous Mom. I'm not going to attack you," he said in hushed tones.

She tried smiling to lower the tension and responded in a low voice as well. Obviously neither wanted Glen to hear. "Am I really that tense? I'm sorry Phillipe. It's just that after the other night in your room..."

"And my little tryst with Rachel Donovan?"

She flushed. "Phillipe, honey, in so many ways you are so far ahead of us all it makes it difficult to know how to treat you. Am I talking with a fourteen year old boy or a grown man?"

"Which do you want to talk with?"

"I want you to enjoy your childhood. In many ways you've never been a child, never done the things that kids do -- climb trees, play ball, skin your knees."

"I'm happy Mother. I enjoy the pursuit of knowledge. I neither need nor enjoy those childish pastimes, so perhaps it's you who have missed those things most, having the little ruffian to take to Little league, to console after losing the game, to bandage a skinned knee."

"Maybe you're right. Maybe I've missed your childhood as well but..."

"You keep looking for a down side to my being a prodigy. For me there is no down side. I didn't choose to have an immeasurable I.Q. but I accept it. Perhaps the only things I missed while advancing so fast were the relationships, sexual and otherwise which were denied me because the other kids could not accept me for who and what I was."

"But you're only fourteen. There's plenty of time..."

"You don't understand. I'm fourteen in a chronological sense only. My mind and even my body are far beyond that. As hard as it is, Mother, face it. I'm a man."

" I've... tried to accept that. You just don't know how hard it is."

He moved to her, placed his hand on her shoulder. She almost shuddered, expecting some kind of advance from him. Yet, there was nothing but kindness and understanding in his eyes.

"Accept me as I am, not according to preconceived societal norms. We'll both be happier."

She smiled. "Perhaps you're right. Perhaps I have been trying to mold you into a fourteen year old when I should have been accepting you as..."

"As a man," he finished it for her. "I know it's been difficult for you and I know I've been a handful, especially of late. But like any other man, I have discovered my sexuality. You, and especially Dad, have tried to suppress it. But inside, you know it won't work."

"Then what do we do?"

"My sexual desires and need for a relationship are normal. I'm just doing what any young man does."

"Wait. Any young man doesn't take his sitter and my best friend to bed."

"He does if he wants to prove a point."

"What point?"

"That I am a man in every way. I don't think I need remind you of how Angela and Rachel both responded..."

"I... I get your point," she hurriedly interrupted, reddening.

"Then accept me for the man I am."

"I'm just not sure I can."

"Suppose we give it a try."

"What do you mean?"

"Stop treating me like other fourteen year olds. Think of me and treat me as an adult. For starters, l want us to get to know each other on a first name basis."

"You mean..."

"That's right. Oh, when we're with other people we can revert to Mom, but when we're alone I want it to be Phillipe and Helen."

"But..." she saw the determination in his eyes and found herself not wanting to disappoint him. "... all right if it's what you want."

"And relax. I'm not going to do anything you don't want me to."

"Does that include what happened the other night?"

"If you want, but you know you enjoyed it as much as I did."

"No, Phillipe, I..."

"Ah, ah, ah, you're pouring on the old mommy talking to her son routine. I felt you respond, so let's don't kid each other. You're a beautiful woman Helen. The loveliest face I've ever seen and a body which would entice any man..."

"She blushed. "And what about Rachel?"

"Rachel is quite a woman. But I find you much more desirable than her. I especially like the way you responded to me the other night."

"Phillipe, I admit that I... well I was caught off guard and..."

"Denial is no way to deal with your feelings, Helen."

Even thought she had agreed to the use of first names, it was still a shock to hear him address her with such familiarity.

"Phillipe, I 'm willing to treat you like an adult, but..."

"But what?" he asked softly, moving closer.

Helen could feel the lump in her throat, her heart begin to beat faster and her face redden as her body temperature rose.

He noted her arousal/discomfort and smiled inwardly, aware that she was now experiencing the same arousal without the use of the pheromone.

"You like me being near, don't you?" he asked as he moved even closer.

"Phillipe, you shouldn't..."

"But you want me to, don't you..."

"Phillipe, your father..."

"Can't give you what you need and want."

"He's my husband."

"He's so far beneath your intellect, I find it incomprehensible that you would have married him."

"He's your father."

"So, all that means is that he's got sperm in his semen. Oh, he's not bad looking and I guess I can thank him for my decent looks."

In reality, Helen knew Phillipe was not only good looking now, but would grow into an even handsomer man.