Chapter 4: One Step at a time

Not too surprisingly, the same roll of tape that had once been used to secure the thick, fat manila envelope to the bottom of the drawer was still in the room. I'd been using it to tape shut a few other boxes of odds and ends with. Not knowing if mom was even aware of dad's hiding this here or not, I didn't want to risk taking any chances. I knew without any doubt, that dad's old roll-top desk top was coming with us anyway. He had given it to me, the one thing I had always said I wanted if he ever decided to get rid of it. So if nothing else, even if mom wasn't aware of where he'd hidden this cache of photos, they'd be safe enough right where they were. We hurriedly finished up for the day, and then left the room. Danny was again all shy and nervous once more however, perhaps feeling a bit guilty at this point, though no doubt confused about what any of this now meant, or what repercussions or changes it would bring about in our own relationship. I decided it would be prudent of me to ensure him that things had indeed changed between us ... in a good way. Later on that evening. But right now, I had other pressing matters and concerns to attend to. One of which was having a fairly intimate conversation with mom, and try to not let on that I now knew what I did when we had it. I was curious to see what she had to say about a few things, and confirm what I was already beginning to think about.

"Meet me in your old bedroom at midnight," I told Danny giving him a kiss on the cheek, though I quickly added another to his lips, kissing him far more intimately before stepping away, leaving him.

It was an interesting situation for now. With Danny and Steven living with us, their home remained furnished, yet vacant. It was the ideal, and perfect place for the two of us to go, and have some time totally alone together. Sneaking out of the house later would prove easy enough to do without being heard. And then easier still, opening the door and simply going inside, since Danny still obviously had a key. He looked at me curiously, somewhat worried perhaps. I wasn't about to leave him that way either.

"Just make sure that things as hard then as it was a while ago. I'm not nearly finished with it yet," I told him. I left him with a big shit-eating grin on his face as I headed downstairs to mom's room where I hoped we could have a little chat.

I found her downstairs in her bedroom where she was refolding clothes, putting things away. Mom had emptied out half her dresser drawers, making room for some of Steven's things. "Mom? You busy?" I sprawled out on top of her bed, something I had done in the past whenever I had a question, and wanted some close, personal "mommy-time" as I called it back then. She smiled without even facing me. I think she enjoyed those moments just as much as I did. And the fact that it had been a while since we'd had one of these moments, simply added to that.

"Never so busy that we can't talk honey," she answered continuing to fold her delicates, a rather impressive collection of panties, garters, bras and the like, many of which I don't remember seeing before. They certainly weren't her normal, standard every day attire that I usually saw her wearing. "What's up? What's on your mind?" She now asked closing one drawer, opening another, though she quickly closed that, realizing perhaps that it held things that might not be appropriate, or perhaps, merely awkward in my seeing. The fact of the matter was, I already knew what that particular drawer held in the back. I'd secretly borrowed one or two of her sex-toys in the past, before I'd finally gone out and gotten my own little assortment of pleasure-pricks.

"I was wondering about something," I told her rolling over onto my back, propping my head up on a pillow, a sure sign and indication that I intended to be here for a while. Having closed the drawer, she pretended that it could wait, rather than continuing, and sat down on the edge of the bed facing me instead.

"Wondering what?"

"You once told me a while back that I could come to you with anything, no matter what it was, or how personal it was. Remember?"

Mom had always told me if I ever had questions about anything, especially with regards to sex, that I could indeed come to her with my questions, and that regardless of what it was, or what I wanted to know, she wouldn't be judgmental, or question me as to the why of it. A promise she had always held to every time I had come to her and actually done that. She merely nodded her head in agreement, waiting on me to continue. "Yes ... I remember. Go ahead honey, what is it?"

"Obviously, I know that you and Steven are having sex. But I was wondering if it was as good with him, as it was with daddy."

I know my question surprised her, but she stoically faced it, keeping a straight-forward expression on her face. The same one she always managed to create whenever I caught her off guard like this, even remotely. Giving her credit, mom had tried very hard to be candidly open and honest with me growing up, even when some of my questions were a bit more intimate and mature, especially at my early age back then. I realized as she began to answer, she was trying to read between the lines however, even though I hadn't meant it to be taken that way.

"If you mean do I love Steven more than I loved your father? The answer is no. I will always love, and miss your father Cynthia," she told me. Always calling me by my formal name, mom had never accepted or gotten used to the idea of calling me by my nick-name the way everyone else did. I even wondered at times if she hadn't regretted naming me that, because of it. "Just as Steven will always love and remember Jackie. They'll never, ever be able to take one another's place. But yes ... I do love Steven too. Differently perhaps, in a different way than I loved your father, if that's what you're asking."

"Well no. Not really. I already figured that much out mom," I told her. "I know you still love and miss daddy, same as I do. But I also know you love Steven too. I think I've always known that, as close as the four of you always were," I said not hinting at what I knew, but nevertheless seeing the slightly startled expression in her eyes for a brief moment upon hearing me say that. "So it wasn't any big surprise when Danny and I learned the two of you had decided to get married. And trust me mom, we're both very, very ok with that. I really was just curious ... is the sex as good with Steven as it was with dad?"

Though puzzled at my curiosity perhaps, she openly answered me again. "Yes. It's good. At times better even. But then again, Steven and your father are different men. There are some things your dad did that is better than the way Steven does them, and by the same token, there are certain things Steven does, that is better than the way your father did it. Does that answer your question?" I know she was dying to ask me why, but unless I opened that particular door and allowed her to ask it, she never would. She certainly hadn't in the past, as part of our mutual trust and agreement. So she wouldn't ask me now either, unless I opened that particular subject up, so that she could.