Chapter 1

"I haven't had that much to drink!" Molly said with a chuckle to her dancing partner.

"Right," Tim replied. "How many glasses of champagne did you have?"

"Not more than three."

"Mom, you're this tipsy on three glasses of champagne?"

"It's my sister's wedding! Why can't I have fun?" Now it was Tim's turn to chuckle at his mother's demeanor, which was much less formal than usual.

"It's not that you can't. You can do anything you want. It's just that I'm not used to seeing you like this."

The pair was enjoying themselves on the dance floor at the reception. They had traveled to the tropical island to attend the wedding as representatives of the bride's side of the family. Molly's sister was getting married for the second time after her first husband had passed away several years earlier. Neither Molly's husband (Tim's father) Edgar, nor Tim's wife Nina could attend, as both had business obligations at home.

"Are you ready to go back to the hotel?" Molly asked.

"Sure you've had enough dancing? I didn't think I would even get on the floor with you. How many different men did you dance with tonight?"

"I don't know. I lost count."

"Like your glasses of champagne?" Tim said with a wink.

"Oh stop! I only had four!" Three had turned to four in a matter of seconds.

Tim was definitely not used to seeing his mother acting so playfully. The idea that her great mind for details would forget how many glasses of champagne she had had was difficult for him to imagine. It was almost as if she were putting on an act. But he knew she wasn't much of an actress.

"Uh-huh ... four. Anyway, sure, I'm good with going back whenever you are."

The fact that straight-laced Molly had danced with at least ten complete strangers was further testimony that she may have had even more than four glasses of champagne. The two didn't take long in making their goodbyes. Most of the family belonged to the groom and neither Molly nor Tim knew any of that side well.

When they arrived at their small but quaint island hotel, Tim was immediately informed that there had been a problem in is room and that his personal items had been removed by the Bell staff. A leaky tub in the room above his had caused part of the ceiling to fall down, directly on the bed. None of his things were damaged, but the room was uninhabitable for several days.

"I'm so sorry, Sir," the hotel manager said earnestly. "We're trying to make an emergency repair on another room that we didn't think we would need to use, but I'm afraid that may take a while. You're welcome to have anything you would like to drink from the bar while you wait in the lobby."

"Don't be silly!" Molly chimed in. "You can just stay with me."

"Oh, no, Mom. That's nice, but I can wait..."

"Of course you're not going to sit out here in the lobby. It's nearly midnight and they don't even know when the other room will be ready."

The manager apologized again. He hated the thought that of one of his guests would have to wait in the lobby until all hours of the night. Although he also was not fond of the idea of forcing one of his adult guests to stay with his mother, he preferred that idea to seeing Tim trying to sleep in a lobby chair. But Tim didn't seem to mind the idea of taking the lobby route.

"Mom, I really don't mind..."

"Have my son's things brought to my room, please. Tim, they'll probably have another room ready for you in the morning." The manager assured them that this would be the case. "We're only here through tomorrow night and then we go home. This is the only sensible thing to do."

With that, Molly turned and headed down the hall to the elevator. This was the Molly that Tim was used to. When there was a problem, she would find the solution and no additional discussion was necessary. He followed her, hoping upon hope there would be a couch in her room. But his hope did nothing to change reality.

"Mom, there's just one bed. And there's no couch ... not even a comfy chair. Only that little table and the desk chair with it. Listen, I'll just go back to the lobby."

"Will you stop being ridiculous, Tim? It's a king-size bed. It's huge. Are you really saying you can't sleep in the same bed with me for one night? You know, when you were little you slept in bed with your father and me constantly ... until you were twelve, I think."

"Thanks for the reminder, Mom."

Tim had rarely seen his mother even slightly drunk. He found that although she was funnier and more playful, she was also more stubborn than normal.

"I'll bet there are one or two men at the reception who wouldn't mind the offer to share my bed tonight," Molly said with a wink.

"Mom!" Tim said, laughing out loud. "I can't believe you said that!"

"Oh, lighten-up, will you? You think I'm too old to get lucky?" This made Tim laugh again.

"Hardly. I'm just so not used to hearing you talk like that. But as you perfectly well know, you look at least ten years younger than your age and you certainly held the interest of plenty of men at the reception."

"Damn right! So consider yourself lucky to be the one in bed with me!"

Tim shook his head and rolled his eyes. He knew his mother didn't understand the real reason for his reluctance to share her bed for the night. Normally he would have been scared to even bring it up with her, but since she was in such a crazy mood after her champagne fountain trips, he decided he might as well be honest with her.

When they had both gotten ready for bed and each had changed into night clothes in the bathroom, Tim made one more plea to his mother to let him put his clothes back on and go to the lobby to wait for the other room to be ready.

"Mom, I just don't think this is a good idea. I'm serious."

"What on earth is wrong now?" Molly asked, having already climbed into her side of the bed.

"I ... Mom, this is embarrassing. I've been known to ... well, when Nina and I are asleep in bed..."

"Ooohh, this should be interesting! Go on!"

Molly was in bed on her side, up on one elbow, looking at him like she couldn't wait to hear what he was going to say.

"Sheesh. O.K., Mom ... it hasn't happened lately, but there have been times when I kind of, well, I sort of ... molest Nina in my sleep."

Now it was Molly's turn to chuckle. She thought what her son had said was hilarious.

"What are you talking about? Molest your own wife? What does that even mean? Honestly..."

"Mom, listen to me! It means that there have been times ... again, not too much lately ... but times when I've, you know, made advances on her while we were both asleep."

"You mean, sleep-screwing instead of sleep-walking?" She laughed again.

"I'm serious, Mom. Look, it is like sleep walking. I'll make moves on Nina when we're both asleep. Serious moves. And it can take a while before I wake up. Nina and I have even joked about how I could never share a hotel bed with anyone when I travel for work, because I might make moves on a guy!"

"Timothy, that's the silliest thing I've ever heard."

"It's not silly, Mom. I would sleep on the floor if it weren't for being afraid I'd throw my back out."

"You're being ridiculous, Tim. Nothing's going to happen. Enough now."

Arguing with Molly wasn't something anyone in the family relished even under the best circumstances. And the half-drunk Molly seemed even more formidable. Tim saw no other option than to crawl into bed with her. He told himself that he was very tired anyway and that he would probably sleep so soundly that he wouldn't budge an inch. That thought got him to relax a bit as he slid under the covers.