Chapter 3

When Tim woke up in the morning, he was aware of his surroundings much more quickly than he had been upon waking the night before. Almost immediately he knew he was in his mother's hotel room because of a problem with his own. He knew she had insisted he stay there rather than waiting up in the lobby for another room to be ready. He was even cognizant of the fact that that he was in Molly's bed. But he was not completely certain about the other events of the night as he thought he remembered them. When he turned to see if Molly was on her side of the bed, he saw that she must have gotten up already. As his senses cleared, he heard the shower running and assumed she was there.

Molly, who was indeed in the shower, was dealing with her own attempt at coming to grips with the night before. Both her head and her heart were aching. Molly could not stop asking herself if last night had really happened. Could it have? How? Why? Now what? How could I do that to my husband ... to my daughter-in-law? And with my SON? All Molly really wanted was go back to sleep, and wake up in somebody else's life.

After finishing her long shower and toweling off, Molly donned her robe and left the bathroom. Tim was now sitting in the desk chair waiting for her to emerge. They looked at each other briefly before Tim mumbled that he would take his shower next. He emerged in fifteen minutes wearing shorts and a t-shirt he had just removed from his suitcase. Still wearing her robe, Molly was looking in the mirror and considering whether or not to blow-dry her hair a bit more.

Both Tim and Molly knew that at some point they would have to talk. And both were dreading it. Tim sat in the chair again and considered putting on his shoes while Molly went to her side of the bed and sat atop the covers with her back against the headboard. Finally, she couldn't stand the silence.

"Tim," Molly began, "we're going to have to talk sooner or later."

"Really?" Tim replied. "I was hoping we could maybe ... I don't know ... go the rest of our lives without ever talking again?"

"O.K., well, I think sometime around New Years someone would notice that we were ignoring each other at family functions and know something was up. So, sometime before then we'll probably have to talk about what happened last night." Tim stared at the floor. "Tim, it happened. We're both to blame. But it happened. We can't pretend it didn't." Tim looked up.

"I know, Mom. I..." He looked Molly directly in the eyes for the first time since getting out of bed. "Mom ... have you been crying?" Her puffy, red eyes told the story better than her words could. She nodded her head.

"Just a little ... an hour at the most."

"Mom ... I'm so sorry."

"I know. I'm sorry too. We both have good reason to be sorry." Molly paused with thought. "Tim, why did this happen? I mean, I remember what happened ... boy, do I remember. But, I only vaguely remember the rest. The truth is that I'm really hung-over and my mind is pretty fuzzy. Do you remember what we said ... when we were ... you know?"

"I think so," Tim replied. "Um ... I think we each sort of, came out of our trances at about the same time. We were both horrified, but frozen ... paralyzed." Molly nodded her head. "You said you thought you were dreaming. I thought that too."

"Uh-huh. Right ... I was dreaming ... kind of a fantasy dream. I remember that I felt very, very emotional."

"Yea, you seemed that way. You were leaking tears even before you realized what was happening. What was that all about, Mom?"

"Well, it's coming back to me, a little. I thought I was dreaming, like you said. I was responding to what was happening in the dream, physically and emotionally. I was feeling ... um..."

"You said ... something about, needing to feel desired."

"Oh yes ... I remember now. And I think you said you understood and felt the same way."

"Yes, that's right. What did you mean, Mom?"

"Oh, Tim ... I shouldn't really talk to you about this."

"Mom, does it really matter at this point? After ... you know what I mean?"

"I guess you're right. Well ... oh, how do I say this?"

"Just say it, Mom."

"O.K. The truth, Tim, is that I've been very frustrated for a long time ... sexually."

"You mean, you and Dad ... aren't... ? Is that what you meant last night? Are you saying..."

"You're father and I haven't been connecting, in bed, for a long time. Maybe ever."

"Mom, are you kidding? You've been married almost thirty years."

"Don't I know it? I don't know how else to describe it, Honey. I love him dearly. You know that. He's a wonderful man. But I just ... I just have so much more to give ... to a man, I mean."

"Wow," Tim said. "I guess I really do know how you feel. Um ... I don't know if you remember, but I said last night that I thought I knew what you meant. And I said I felt that way too."

"That's right. I do remember that. Tim, are you and Nina having trouble?"

"Well, what you just said describes pretty much how I feel, Mom. I love her so much. She's the mother of my children. She's awesome. But ... well ... you know the thing about me ... making moves on her at night?"

"Uh ... yes, I think I know about that." Neither wanted to allow themselves to lighten the very serious mood, but Molly's comment forced them to share a brief smile.

"I'm sure the real reason I do that with her is that I'm so damned frustrated. She knows it too, but she would never admit it. She just ... she won't..."

"It's O.K., Tim. Just say what you need to say. Like you said, at this point, what difference does it make? She won't what?"

"All right. Well, she just doesn't ... have any needs, for one thing. And she doesn't ... well, she doesn't care in the least about mine, either. Same as you ... sexually, I mean."

"Have you talked to her about it?"

"Mom, are you kidding? For years I've talked to her about it."

"For years? Tim, you haven't even been married five years."

"Well, that's more or less the size of it, Mom."

"Are you kidding me? It was always like that?"

"I think so. I can't remember a time when she was responsive to me. You wanna know what she does? In the morning when I wake up, I'm usually ... well, hard." Tim looked at Molly to see if she was giving a disapproving look, which she was not. She was paying full attention to what her son was saying. "She likes to be touched and stroked in bed. She'll come by me and cuddle. And of course I love that too. Anyway, she'll even touch me. She touches me ... down there. She touches IT. She plays with it. And then she'll just stop and say it's time to get up."

"Seriously?"

"I'm not kidding, Mom! It has happened many times."

"Honey ... that's just ... not right. And you've talked to her about it?"

"Yes! I've told her how unbelievably frustrating it is. She says I should just tell her what I want. Sure! She has her hand on my hard-on and I'm clearly enjoying her touching it! I make sure she knows that! Do I have to tell her I want her to jerk me off? I shouldn't have to at that point! I've told her a thousand times that I want her to behave differently in bed!" Tim gave Molly an embarrassed look, fearing he had said too much. But she did not seem bothered by the details of his story.

"Oh, Tim. I don't know what to say. Well, except that I guess my story isn't much different. Although, it has gone on for a lot longer. I'm getting the feeling we were both living in frustration and when we connected last night, our needs, and our bodies took over."

"That sounds about right. Um ... by the way ... Mom, why were you crying so much this morning?"

"Good question, Honey." Molly stopped to collect her thoughts. "Ohhh," she sighed, "I don't know if I can say for sure. I was just overwhelmed, I suppose. I couldn't accept that I had been unfaithful to your father, that I had so much to drink and lost control, that it could have been avoided if I had just listened to you. I felt sad about all of that. And I'm always extra emotional after having too much to drink anyway."

"Mom, are you ... do you feel guilty ... more because you were with someone other than Dad, or ... that it was me?" Molly looked at him quizzically. "Was that a strange question?"

"No, Tim. Of course it wasn't. It's a totally logical question. I'm just ... thinking about it."

"O.K."

"I would think that would be the worst part ... the thing I couldn't forgive myself for. But for some reason I can't begin to understand, that part doesn't seem like the end of the world. Now, I do think it would seem like the end of the world to most other people ... the fact that it was with you. But I'm just not feeling the weight of it at the moment."

"I know what you mean. I don't either. I mean, I feel badly that I cheated on Nina. I never wanted to do that. But, I ... I don't know ... somehow it feels more acceptable that it was you than if it were someone I met in the bar or at the wedding. But how can it feel that way?"