Chapter 5

Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday were typical school days. The evenings were pretty normal, too ... dinner with Mom, homework, some computer and TV. Wednesday evening, I helped Mom make some things to take to the Barkers the next day. Before I went to bed, I logged on to wish Mia a happy Thanksgiving. Just as I pulled up MSN Messenger, the phone rang. I looked at the caller ID. It was Mia's number, so I grabbed the phone.

"Hello?"

"Brody?" Mia said, her voice strained. Suddenly she burst into tears.

I started to panic. "Mia? Baby, what's wrong? Talk to me?"

"She's gone," she sobbed. "I tried to talk to her and I pushed her away. She's gone! What have I done??"

My mind conjured up the worst, and that, coupled with the heartbroken cries of my lover, pulled tears out of my eyes, too. I'd always tried to be Mia's protector, and now I was failing. I soothed and calmed her as best I could, aching inside that I couldn't reach through the phone and wrap her in my arms. At one point, Mom stopped on her way to bed and listened a little in the doorway with concern in her eyes.

Eventually, Mia calmed down to a whimper.

"Mia, I love you," I said with all the emotion I could muster. "I'll always love you. No matter what happens, in the end you and I will always be together." She sniffed, but didn't say anything, so I continued. "We can work through this issue, because there is nothing we can't handle together."

Mia sniffed again. "OK," she answered, her voice so tiny and vulnerable.

In my peripheral vision I saw Mom trying to get my attention. I'd forgotten she was standing there.

'Is everything OK?' she mouthed to me.

I shook my head. 'Not sure, ' I mouthed back. 'I'll tell you in the morning.'

She waited a second, watching me was a funny look. Then she nodded. 'I love you, sweetheart, ' she mouthed, and then disappeared down the hallway.

"Tell me what happened," I said to Mia.

"We've always spent the night before Thanksgiving together. It was our time, you know? Shay would usually stay at our house because of her parents, then we'd spend Thanksgiving together, first at my family meal and then at hers. Anyway, I figured this would be a good time to try to work some things out. I mean, we'd have all night, right? So I called her up this morning and asked her when she wanted to get together this evening. She kind of hemmed and hawed. I guess I'd finally reached my limits. I started getting mad, so I asked her what was wrong. She said she'd kind of agreed to go to a party with some of her volleyball teammates. I said 'I thought this night was ours' and she said that she kind of had to go to the party. So I said I'd go with her. She said she'd have to ask, but I could tell she didn't really want me to. Anyway, she called me a few hours later and said I wasn't invited, that only certain people could come. So I said 'So you're not going to go, right? You're coming here?' She was quiet and was like 'I can't, Mia. I'll just have to see you tomorrow.'"

Mia paused and sniffed hard before continuing. "Anyway, I guess I snapped, because I said if she didn't want to be with me anymore, then she just needed to tell me and to quit stringing me along. I didn't want to be with someone who didn't want to be with me. She said I was being overly dramatic and that when the volleyball season ended things would slow down and go back to the way they were. Things just kind of escalated and I finally said I thought we needed to go our own ways for a while. She agreed and hung up. Brody, what am I supposed to do now?" Mia choked back a cry. "I feel so alone. I've lost one love and the other is thousands of miles away!"

"Mia," I pleaded. "I wish I could be there for you. If I could I'd wrap you in my arms and make it all better."

I was at a loss as to what else to say. I was angry and frustrated and discouraged. I wanted to protect Mia, like always. I wanted to call Shay up to give her a piece of my mind. Yet, a part of me didn't think that was fair. I kind of empathized with the redhead. There was an incredible amount of pressure to try to fit in. I got the feeling from all my chats with Shay that she didn't particularly like all these activities but felt obligated, like she needed to conform to be part of the team.

I could see both sides of the fence, so I did the only thing I could do and comforted Mia. I encouraged her to give Shay until the season ended, then they could work things out. That was only a few more weeks. Plus, I'd be there in about a month and maybe together we could figure it out. I reassured her we'd make things work.

"I love you, Mia," I said again, as intensely as possible. "Don't ever forget that. I don't know what's going to happen, but I'll do everything I can to help you deal with it. I promise." I heard a floorboard squeak from the hallway. Mom was probably just finishing up her nighttime routine and was heading to bed.

Mia sighed as she had several times during our conversation, but this time it seemed more hopeful. "I love you, too, Brody. I meant what I said this summer, that I knew what I wanted, and that I was willing to be patient until you and Shay knew for yourselves. It's just been a lot harder than I thought. I know I've been preoccupied with my own drama, but I want you to know that I still think of you as my best friend. I promise to always be here for you whenever you need me."

That reminded me of what I'd said to Cassie. It seemed like a good way to get Mia's mind off of Shay.

"Speaking of that, I could use your help for something."

"Anything."

"You know that girl who hosted that party I went to?"

"The one you fucked?"

Harsh, but true. I almost went on the defensive until I heard Mia giggle. It'd been EONS since I'd heard her giggle. Music to my ears. I let the sound resonate around my head.

"Um, yeah," I answered sheepishly. Mia may have been able to joke about it, but I still felt guilty for doing it without her knowing. "Her name's Cassie. Anyway, we've become friends, and..."

"Friends, huh?" Mia interrupted, her tone full of mirth. "Just what kind of friends?"

"What? No! I mean, not like that." I was stammering, a direct result of 'the Mia Effect'. No one could get me flustered quite like Mia.

"Relax, Brody. I'm just teasing you. What about Cassie? Why do you need my help?" From Mia's tone, I knew she was having a momentary reprieve from her despondency. I patted myself on the back for changing the conversation.

"Well, right after we ... you know ... had sex, Cassie confessed to me that she thought she was actually a lesbian, but didn't know how to go about dealing with that or how to find someone to be with. Stuff like that. She knows about you and Shay." Ouch. Dammit. I was trying to steer the conversation AWAY from Shay. Better keep moving forward. "I asked her if she'd like to talk to you, maybe get some advice or something."

Mia, bless her heart, didn't even hesitate. "I'd love to! Brody, I'd love to meet all of your friends, even if it's just through IM or over the phone or something. It'd make me feel like I was more a part of your life."

I breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't catch my reference to Shay—or she chose to ignore it—and she was actually excited to talk to Cassie. We talked about that a little, and when we hung up, she actually sounded happy.

Of course, neither of us knew the shit was getting ready to hit the fan.

Thursday morning dawned like just about every Thanksgiving. I woke to the smell of fresh baked bread, which, just so you know, is something everyone should get to experience at least once every couple of weeks.

I practically floated to the kitchen, already savoring a big slab of bread drenched in butter and covered with jam.

Mom shot that to hell.

"Don't touch the bread. It's for dinner."

"Awe, come on, Mom. Just one slice?" I tried to sound pitiful.

She pushed me away from the wonderfully yummy treasure. "No. Eat cereal or something." I tried to give her my puppy dog eyes, but she just grabbed my shoulders, turned me and pushed me towards the pantry and the cereal. She swatted my butt for good measure, but that was NOT the right thing to do, considering our heightened sexual senses. My penis jumped in my boxers, and as I was getting my food, I kept catching her stealing glances at my, um, lower body.

I ate quietly and watched Mom working in the kitchen. She was making a pumpkin pie, too, which only added to the wonderful scent in the air. Mom was dressed in her robe, a very nonsexual bulky terrycloth one that went down below her knees. She looked damn sexy in that, too. God, I had it bad.

Finally, with the pie in the oven, she turned and looked at me. She took a sip of her coffee before talking.

"I talked to Shelly last night, and she told me what's going on between Mia and Shay."

I shrugged.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked as she sat across the table from me.

I suddenly realized I DID. I had been internalizing everything going on with Mia and Shay and now I felt the intense urge to tell someone. So I unloaded. I told her everything: Shay joining the volleyball team and getting really busy; Mia feeling neglected by her best friend; Shay gradually pulling away from me and Mia; Mia's worsening depression; their fight; my feelings of helplessness, feeling that I was losing my girlfriends and that they were drifting apart and there was nothing I could do. When I was done, I actually felt better. Not much, but at least a little.

Mom, on the other hand, looked contemplative. "I asked Shelly if it would be alright if you called Mia a few times during the day, just to check on her. She said that would wonderful. Would you be willing to do that for Mia?"

My face must have said it all, because Mom laughed. "OK. I'll take my cell phone, and you can sneak away a couple of times to call her." She pointed her finger at me as she tried to look stern. "Don't abuse this, young man. Ten minutes max for each call."

"Thanks, Mom." I turned to leave.

"Brody?" Mom called. I turned back to her and caught the look of love as she smiled at me. "I'm really proud of you, son." That particular line always made me feel warm and fuzzy, and I blushed as she continued. "You've grown into such a wonderful young man. The way you've handled the situation with Mia and Shay shows a sensitive side that a lot of guys twice your age never seem to show. You've also shown maturity and wisdom that is very impressive." She cocked her head to the side and I noticed her eyes flick down my body and then back to my face. Her eyes got that funny look again. "Add in your physical charms, and I bet there are lots of girls whose hearts are all a-flutter."

Like you, Mom? I smiled back at her. "Thanks."

Thanksgiving is absolutely the best holiday ever created. So says a growing teenage boy with a hollow leg and a high-speed metabolism. I ate until I couldn't move. Mrs. Barker is a damn good cook. Mom's been known to put together an awesome meal or two herself. I had thirds before I collapsed, pants unbuttoned, on the couch to watch football. Jeff didn't put away as much as I did, but he was scrawny. Actually, he wasn't scrawny, but he was smaller than me, so I teased him pretty regularly about being scrawny. Mom and Mrs. Barker were in the kitchen chatting with Grandma Barker, who was a really, really old woman. She was actually Jeff's great-grandmother, and was like 90 or something. She was pretty spry though, and had a biting sense of humor, kind of like her great-grandson.

I looked at the clock and realized it was a good time to call Mia. They ate an early dinner and we ate a late one, so our family dinners ended up being at almost the same time. I pulled the cell phone from my pocket and stood up to find a private spot to make my call.

Jeff held his hands up in front of him, his hands bent at the wrists. He let his tongue hang out and started panting.

"Grrrr..." he growled, then started barking like a stupid puppy. I glared at him as I passed.

"Aah, puppy love," he crooned behind me, then sighed dramatically.

I just shook my head. Jeff was a jokester, so you didn't take him too seriously. Sometimes he could piss you off, but for the most part he was just an all around funny guy. When he wasn't being an ass.

This was my second call to Mia that day. The phone rang four times before someone picked up.

"Just a second, Brody. I'll take the phone to her." It was Shelly. "I'm glad you called. She just tried Shay's house to see if they were still going to get together today, but her parents said Shay was pretty sick and didn't want to be disturbed. Mia's pretty torn up."

"Dammit," I muttered, feeling frustrated and helpless again. For a split second I remembered that there was an adult on the other end, but decided I didn't care.

"Here she is," Shelly said.

"Hey," said Mia, her voice quiet and sad.

"Hey, yourself. Your mom told me that you haven't been able to talk to Shay today."

Mia's next words were full of antipathy. "Her stupid parents said I can't talk to her because she's sick. Said she doesn't want to talk to anyone. Fine, she doesn't want to talk to me. At least she could have the fucking decency to tell me herself." She was quiet for a second, then said in a muffled voice. "Sorry, Mom." Then she was back. "I swear her mother was gloating over the phone."

During my various chats with the girls, it became apparent that Shay's parents actually were disconcerted that their daughter was in a lesbian relationship. Mr. Spurlock, Shay's dad, was ready to put a stop to it, but his wife convinced him this was just a phase that she would outgrow. Apparently she was feeling vindicated.

"Mia, maybe Shay really is sick and truly wasn't up to talking."

"Ha," Mia huffed. "She seemed just fine yesterday when she was going to her party with her friends." She said the last word with contempt. "Probably a hangover or something." Then she sighed. "I just don't know what to do, Brody. Everything I try is thrown back in my face. It's like she doesn't want to even try to fix things. I've tried being nice. I've tried confrontation. I've tried catching her off-guard. I've tried letting her call the shots. She just seems to pull further and further away, like she's actively trying to end our relationship without just saying 'we're through.'"

I thought for a second, trying to think of what to say. Something in what Mia was saying tickled my brain. I did a quick mental run through of all of my interactions with Shay. I wasn't sure, but I began to piece together Shay's motives and actions over the last few months. I needed to mull this over before bringing it up to Mia.

"Are you going to keep trying to call her?" I asked.

"No. If she wants to see me or talk to, fine. She knows where I am. I've tried. I'm tired of being hurt over and over again."

I decided to change the subject. "You know what happens in four weeks?"

That perked her up. "I can't wait, Brody! I'm going to wrap you up and not let go of you for the whole two weeks."

"That might be kind of difficult," I laughed. "I mean, I'll need to pee."

"Then I'll hold it for you while you go. I've always wondered what it looked like, you know when a guy pees. So you'll satisfy my curiosity and then you can satisfy my urges, one right after the other." I heard a muffled voice, to which Mia responded. "Sorry, Ana."

That made me laugh. "Is your sister eavesdropping?"

"She says she was just walking by, but I know better. I catch her snooping around my computer and my room all the time. She's a 17-year-old virgin who really, desperately needs to get laid." She chuckled. "Maybe you could do that for her while you're here."

My heart thudded hard in my chest for a second. Was she serious? "Uh..." was all I could say. My hesitation must have clued Mia.

"I'm kidding, Brody. There is only one Greenwall girl that will be getting laid by you." Another muffled voice. "Yes, Mom ... Brody, Mom says I have to get off the phone now because I'm embarrassing Ana and pissing off Sam. Will you be able to call me again later?"

"Yep. When I get home from Jeff's house. He keeps teasing me about being your loyal puppy, so I don't want to give him any more fuel."

She giggled. "I always wanted a puppy! Who knew I already had one?" She made a kissing sound into the phone. "Love ya, Rover!"

That night, after Mom and I finished off some Thanksgiving leftovers we brought home from the Barkers, she began to pack for her weekend with Brian. I had just finished my last phone conversation with Mia, so I padded down the hall to Mom's room to chat before going to bed.

I was feeling a bit melancholy about Mom being gone. She went out of town for a night here and there for work, but this was two nights, with a man no less, and she wouldn't be working. She'd be playing. My feelings about that surprised me. A part of me was jealous. Another part of me was aroused by the images my oversexed teenage mind conjured up of my mom and Brian doing all kinds of things. Actually, it was Mom and some imaginary guy. I mean, I'd never seen Brian. Mom had said he looked so different from Dad, so I pictured a thinner, shorter guy with really dark hair. Truthfully, I didn't actively envision Brian. There was just a guy doing all kinds of sexual things with my mother.

Anyway, another part of me, probably the most powerful part, was just hopeful that Mom could find someone who could fill those needs she had, needs that I couldn't fulfill, particularly over the long term. She was right; what she needed was more than just sex. She needed companionship, and the reality was I'd go away to college in a couple of years. I didn't want her to be alone. I loved her too much to see her alone for the rest of her life. I wanted Mom to be happy, and I knew being the center of someone's life day in and day out would go a long way to making her happy.

It was this final part of me, the one that wanted her to find someone to be her lifelong companion, which led me to her room for one last discussion before she left early the next morning. I stopped at her open doorway and froze. She didn't see me at first, because she was busy holding a really silky piece of lingerie in front of her and examining it in the mirror. I salivated as I pictured Mom dressed in that thing. My penis expressed its approval, too. The lingerie was a pale blue babydoll with spaghetti straps and what looked like a really low neckline. I could see her reflection in the mirror as she evaluated herself, and I knew it would barely reach the top of her thighs. She was holding another tiny piece of the pale blue fabric in one hand. I assumed that was the panties. Damn, Brian was a lucky son of a bitch.

Mom scrunched up her face, sighed and picked up another bundle of fabric. This one was really sheer. It was basically a translucent bra and bikini panties with a robe that also reached just down to the tops of her thighs. The robe was as sheer as the rest. My penis approved of this one, too.

I must have made a sound or something, because suddenly Mom whirled around and tried to hide the lingerie behind her back. She blushed with embarrassment.

"How long have you been standing there?" she asked irritably.

I just gave her a warm smile. "Long enough to know that Brian is one lucky guy."

She blushed again, then sighed.

"It's no use," she said, forlornly. She threw the two sets of lingerie into a heap of clothes on the bed. "Whatever I pull from my closet or my drawers either says I'm an old maid or I'm desperate for a man." She plopped down on the bed and rested her chin on her fists, her elbows on her knees.

I took a moment to inspect the tableau in front of me. Every drawer on Mom's dresser was open, some with clothes hanging out of them. Her closet door was open and bare hangers hung haphazardly or were scattered on the floor. Her suitcase was open in the middle of the bed. I stepped towards the bed and peered in. It was empty except for some basic toiletries. Oh, and a pair of socks.

I was standing close enough to Mom that I nudged her foot with mine. "If all you take is that pair of socks, I think THAT says your desperate."

She huffed, but then smiled. She flopped back on her bed with a mournful moan. As she lay on the pale green comforter with her feet on the floor and her arms stretched above her head, I felt something almost carnal pass through my veins. She'd never looked more beautiful and vulnerable than she did at that moment. Her shoulder-length blonde hair was pulled into a ponytail. She'd removed her makeup and was still clad in the shorts and t-shirt she put on when we got home from the Barkers. The shorts were short enough that I could admire her long, toned legs, and they were tight enough that I could admire her world-class ass. Her t-shirt was not tight or loose, but just average, giving a hint of the shape and size of her breasts. In her current position on the bed, with her arms above her head, the shirt exposed a healthy expanse of her stomach. Sure, she was starting to develop a little softness around her sides and belly, but she was still trim, and I think it just made her look more womanly.

The whole look around the room took only a few seconds. My examination of Mom took three or four times that, long enough that she lifted her head to look at me. She fidgeted under my gaze.

"Personally, I think if you looked just like you do now, Brian would be willing to be your slave for life," I said, almost without thinking. My penis jumped in agreement. The movement must have been noticeable in my boxers, because she glanced down at the bulge I was growing there, blushed and let her head fall back. Her breathing seemed shallow, and her blush didn't go away, instead extending down her neck and beneath the collar of her shirt.

I continued to admire her form, and she continued to fidget. She also continued to lay stretched out for my viewing pleasure. If the moment was doing to her what it was doing to me...

"So, were you heading to bed?" she asked from her prone position on the bed.

"Actually, I wondered if you wanted to try on your outfits for me, to get my male point of view."

She looked at me, her expression clouding. I held up my hand to stop her.

"I'm kidding," I said, even though I wouldn't mind seeing her in some of those clothes. I mentally cleared the thought from my head. Why had I come to her room? The reason momentarily escaped me. I paused so I could focus. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you before you leave tomorrow."

"I thought you were going to get up tomorrow to meet Brian and see me off."

"I am, but I know how I am before 6:00. I may not be coherent enough to hold a conversation, and I have something I really wanted to tell you."