Chapter 4

"Hello," the man said into the phone.

"Um, hi," the woman said in response.

"Hi, who's this?"

"You might not remember me." Jennifer paused before continuing. "I uh ... I called a few weeks ago and I talked to you."

"O.K.," the man replied. "What's your name?"

"Well, I didn't give my name ... and I don't want to give it now. I'm just ... not comfortable."

"That's O.K. Can you remind me of what we talked about last time?"

"We talked about my son." She stopped again.

"Well, Ma'am ... by the way, can you at least tell me your first name, so I can know what to call you?" Jennifer didn't even want to give out that much.

"Call me Jenna," she finally said.

"Great, thanks Jenna. So, you were saying ... about your son?"

"Yes, I called about my son."

"Jenna, please understand that I talk to a lot of people, primarily women, lots of mothers and lots of issues with their children. As much as we'd like to, we can't remember everyone, especially when they don't tell us who they are." Jennifer sensed that the phone counselor was really trying to be nice in saying this.

"O.K. I understand." She took a deep breath before continuing. "My son was um..." The counselor waited. "He was masturbating..."

The counselor thought that this was probably at least the tenth call of the week from parents who didn't know what to do because they had caught their kid touching themselves. But just before the caller continued, he placed her voice and the unusual scenario she had described came back to him.

"I think I remember you actually, Jenna. But go on." Jennifer felt a slight sense of relief. She had liked speaking to the counselor the first time she called. She hadn't gotten his name, but she knew his voice. She had tried calling several nights in a row until she found him on the other end of the phone.

"Yes," she said almost too enthusiastically. "He was, doing it with my ... underwear."

"Right. Yes, I do remember now, Jenna. We talked about how, while that kind of behavior can be unsettling and while it's really not the norm, it's also not unheard of and it usually doesn't mean what folks are often afraid it does." He paused to see if she would continue. She remained silent. "So, did you have a talk with him? Have his behaviors changed?"

"Have his behaviors changed?" Jennifer said, almost to herself. She didn't know how to say that her behaviors were the ones that had changed. That she was now the one that she didn't know how to handle. "Um, yes they have ... sort of."

"What do you mean, Jenna? Tell me what's been happening."

"I ... when I ... after we talked last time, I felt really good ... like I had some idea how to handle it. Talking to you really helped."

"Good. I'm glad to hear that. Go on..."

"Well, I had just left Ryan at home for a bit. And I was driving around thinking about what you said, about explaining things to him ... telling him how his behaviors made me feel." The counselor gave the appropriate verbal cues to make sure she knew he was tracking. "And I got really motivated to tell him right then. So I turned the car around and drove straight home to talk to him. And..."

"Oh my ... was he at it again?"

"Yes! He promised me he wouldn't! And there he was ... with my panties, right in the living room!"

"I'm so sorry to hear it, Jenna. How did you react?"

"I fucking lost it..." Jennifer was surprised to hear that word come out of her mouth in conversation with a complete stranger. "Sorry ... I..."

"Jenna, I promise you, that's not the first time I've heard the 'F word' tonight and it won't be the last. Don't give it another thought. Just tell me what happened using whatever words feel right to you."

"Wow. Well, thanks." Jennifer was surprised at how at ease she felt talking to this relative stranger. "You know ... I'm so sorry ... I'm sure you told me your name ... but I don't..."

"Mike," he said. "Just call me Mike." Jennifer figured it was probably a made-up name. Like the one she had given him. But she didn't care.

"Thanks again. Thanks, Mike. Anyway ... like I said. I lost it. I freaked out. I was so angry I couldn't see straight."

"I can imagine. So, what did you do?" Jennifer paused again, wondering if she could really tell someone what she had done. But she knew she needed to say the words, to tell another adult what had been happening with her and her son.

"I ... I did something very bad." Mike could feel the weight of shame in Jennifer's words.

"Take your time, Jenna. Take your time and just tell me what happened."

"I just freaked out," Jennifer repeated. "I would never do something like that. I just wouldn't. But I did ... I..." Mike could tell that his caller couldn't form the words to confess to her deeds, so he tried to gently lead her.

"Did you strike him, Jenna?" While Jennifer was aghast at what she had actually done, she was shocked at the suggestion that she would hit her son.

"What? No way. Are you kidding? I would never do that! I would never hit my child!"

"It's O.K., Jenna. I wasn't making an accusation. I was just trying to help you get it out. But please know that it wouldn't be the first time that..."

"No!" she interrupted. "I didn't hit him, O.K.?" Once again Jennifer had to catch her breath. "I did something that seems ten times worse to me."

"I'm listening, Jenna. Go ahead." He genuinely wanted to reassure her. He was very familiar with distraught parents and how volatile their emotions could be. And he was also used to people's assessments of their behaviors. And he knew that rarely was anything ten times worse in reality. In this case, Mike would find out that sometimes that description could be accurate.

"I did it too."

"You did what too, Jenna?"

"Oh shit ... O.K. Here goes. I ... masturbated too." Jennifer tried to get her mind around the fact that she had actually uttered those words. Mike shook his head slightly, trying to comprehend what his caller had just told him.

"What do you mean, Jenna?"

"Just what I said. I masturbated too."

"Are you saying, you confronted your son, told him how you felt, then later on you ... I don't know ... relieved your own tension in that way ... in your bedroom?" Mike hoped this was the case.

"No. Mike ... I ... oh shit." Once again, Jennifer knew she had to get it off her chest. "I'm horrible. I made him stay right where he was. He had it ... he had it in his hand and he had my panties wrapped around it. And I was so fucking angry..." She didn't flinch on using the word this time. "My crazy brain said that maybe I should show him what it feels like to see that. So I made him stay right there ... and I..."

"Take your time, Jenna," Mike repeated mechanically, not knowing how to receive what he thought he was about to hear.

"I got his underwear. I went up to his room and got a pair of his briefs. I came back downstairs. I took my pants off, I laid back on the couch. And I ... I masturbated."

"I ... I don't ... I don't quite understand, Jenna. You..."

"He was sitting there with it still in his hand, wrapped in my panties ... his dick, O.K.? I took off my pants. I left my shirt on but I ... I'm not sure why, but I took off my bra ... from inside my shirt. I left my panties on, but I laid back, spread my legs, put my fingers inside his underwear, slid them into the panties I was wearing and rubbed myself with them. Right there, next to him. Next to my son."

Now it was Mike's turn to be silent. "Jenna" had in fact shocked him. This was nothing like he had heard before. He searched his mind and his training for a sense of what to do or say next. A million questions ran through his mind, most of which he didn't want to think about the answers to.

"Uh ... Jenna..."

"I know! It's horrible! You don't have to tell me!"

"Just relax, O.K.? Jenna, what was your son doing, while you were doing that?"

"I made him do it too. I made him continue jerking off, the way he was when I caught him."

"And did ... were ... um ... were you naked?"

"No. Like I said, I took my bra off. But I kept my shirt on. And I put my hands inside my panties. I didn't take them off. Just my pants."

"I see. And did ... uh ... did he ... did your son ... did you..."

"We both finished, if that's what you're trying to say."

"Uh, yea. That was it." Mike paused to think again. "Jenna, how old is your son? I don't remember if you told me that before."

"I don't think I told you exactly. And now I don't want to."

"O.K. Well, uh..."

"He's in High School. Barely. He's not eighteen, if that's what you're wondering."

"Yep, you figured it out again. So, he's a minor."

"Yes."

"Jenna, what happened, you know ... after?"

"I ran upstairs crying. I guess he got cleaned up and he left. He went to his friend's house. He had promised me that he wouldn't ever, ever do it again. Actually, he tried to stop me by telling me that. But I was nuts. I couldn't stop."

"Uh-huh. Have you and your son talked about it since?"

"Not much. I apologized and I think he accepted my apology. He swore again that he would never do what he was doing, so I could see him."

"Well, that part is good. I mean, I can't say that your response was healthy, or even rational. But, I can imagine it scared him into changing his behaviors. And that's what you wanted. So, maybe for the time being, it's behind you both." Mike waited for Jenna to agree. She said nothing. "Jenna? It's all behind you now, right?" He heard Jenna mumble something unintelligible. "Jenna, I couldn't hear you. What did you say?"

"I said I don't know."

"You don't know what?"

"I don't know if it's over. Mike, I don't know..."

"Well, have you caught him again? Have his behaviors continued?"

"No. I haven't caught him. And ... well, I don't know if he's done it. But if he has, it's been privately."

"That's good!" Mike said, trying to find something positive to focus on.

"That's not the problem."

"What do you mean, Jenna?"

"My son isn't the problem now," Jenna said quietly.

"Why? What ... what..." Mike swallowed. "What's happening now?"

"It's me that's the problem now. I can't stop thinking about what happened. I ... that night, after I talked to Ryan, I went to bed. I tried so hard to go to sleep. I wanted to think about anything else than what I did. But I couldn't."