I woke up thinking about the fight. Before last night, I hadn't fought anyone—not in the physical sense of the word—since fifth grade. And my mother and I had ended up wrestling. And not in the WWE sense of the word, but like amateur wrestling, with the constant embrace and struggle for control. I was ashamed to have fought her. I was even more ashamed to have been turned on by her close, tense body. But things had changed with my mother ever since the night I saw her and Ms Magunderson.
I got dressed and went downstairs, tempted to slip out the front door, and avoid my mother. But she heard me, and called out cheerfully: "Hey Sean."
"Hi mom," I said.
"I made you some breakfast."
"Great." It seemed like we were just going to pretend that last night hadn't happened. I sat down at the table, and helped myself to some bacon and pancakes. No, this was different. My mother never made breakfast for me on a weekday. She sat down at the table and poured herself some orange juice.
"So we need to talk about last night."
I just continued eating, since it was easier than talking.
"I have to apologize. I was grumpy. I had a bad day," she said, fidgeting with her fork in the silence that followed. "And, I guess it's hard for me to accept that you're growing up and sometime soon you'll move out. I've had issues with trust since your father left."
"Yeah, I'm sorry too. I hope I didn't hurt you."
"No, of course not," she said, drinking her orange juice. "I want you to know that I'm actually really happy that you've got a girl in your life. I'd like to meet her."
I thought of the huge lie that Vernon had concocted for me: that the woman I was showing up at college with was actually my lover. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."
"Well, if you want me to stay out of that part of your life, that's fine too."
"Mom, I've got a big problem," I said, making up my mind to come clean with the lie. She reached across and put a hand on sympathetically on mine. "One of my friends saw me arrive at school with you, and was wondering who you are, and then Vernon started this rumour that you were my girlfriend."
"Oh. Aren't I a little old?"
"Well, they thought you were around 28."
"And don't you have this other girlfriend? Why do you need to pretend?"
"Well, Vernon's idea is that it would make Morag—that's my girlfriend—jealous and feel more attracted to me. Pretty stupid idea."
"Well, Vernon's right about that: sometimes a woman doesn't know she's attracted to a man until she sees that man with another woman. But yeah, it's a stupid idea to pretend that I'm your girlfriend."
"Yeah, that's what I thought, but it's gone so far that I'm not sure I can do anything about it. I feel like it's all out of my control."
"Well, I'm not sure about what advice I can give you."
"Yeah, I just needed to tell someone, because I feel bad about it. I never meant to use you."
"No, I know you didn't, honey. The opposite sex, or sometimes even the same sex, make us do things we don't mean to. If you need to lie, you do it. Don't worry about me."
I smiled at her, relieved that she understood. "Thanks, mom."
"Now eat your breakfast or we're going to be late."
I felt at peace, as we drove to school. One of my two big problems seemed solved, at least somewhat: while I still felt guilty about lying to Morag, at least there would be less chance of being found out. Of course, I still had a tremendous crush on my mother, but I could deal with that.
She pulled up infront in the loading zone. "Any of your friends around?" she asked.
"No," I said, doing a quick glance over my shoulder. "No, wait, there's Oscar."
"Where?"
I pointed to where Oscar was walking across the parking lot, coming in our general direction.
"Okay, give me a kiss," mom said. I didn't think anything of it, as we gave each other a little peck on the cheek most mornings. But as I turned to her, she planted her open lips over mine.
"Play along," she whispered. "I'm doing this for you."
I opened my mouth, my heart beating painfully. I could feel her breath, her lubricious lips.
"Okay, have a good day," she said, breaking the kiss. She smiled warmly at me, a motherly smile. I tried my best to give a sonly smile back, then slipped out of my car.
Oscar was waiting for me by the revolving door. "Dude, she's so hot. You've got to introduce us sometime."
I shrugged, uninterested. "I'm late for class."
"Better wipe the lipstick off. You look totally gay."
I raised my hand to my mouth, and rubbed my lips, then looked at the red stain on my hands. My mother's lipstick. God.
Any other class and I would have skipped out, gone to the washroom, and masturbated. But Ms Magunderson didn't tolerate lateness. I ran through the halls toward the English department, catching the door just as Ms Magunderson was closing it from within. She gave me a frown, but to my relief, didn't say anything. I had a hard time concentrating on Magunderson's class at the best of times. With her tight skirts, white blouses, horn-rimmed glasses and tousled black hair, any guy would be distracted. Some of the girls, too. But today, I couldn't even concentrate on her body. Her body I had seen naked, next to my mother's. Instead, my thoughts went to that latter woman, my mother. We had fought, and we had kissed, like lovers. We had kissed where others had seen us. How great was the threat of discovery? What hung in the balance of our secret? Beyond Vernon, none of my university aquantances had met my mother. And I had met none of her colleagues. We had different last names, since my mother had never changed her's from her maiden name, so we could probably not worry about anyone piecing things together. No doubt she meant nothing sexual by the kiss. No doubt she's merely trying to patch things up after the fight, doing whatever a mother can to earn her son's forgiveness. But what if part of her enjoyed it? What if part of her thrilled at the kiss, as so much of me did? I shook the thoughts back to gorgeous Ms Magunderson just in time:
"Now, Byatt's title is not the first book to play on the anagram of insect and incest. Can anyone tell me another book? Sean?"
I tried to come up with an intelligent response, despite the salacious and appropriate subject of the question.
"Ummm, I'm really not sure."
"I well-read young man such as yourself? Surely you must be able to form a reasonable guess." I felt myself blushing as she sauntered over to the desk. She loved to make her students squirm, and I was completely pinned beneath her gaze. I heard Julie, the girl who sat to my left, giggle.
"Cider House Rules?"
"No."
"The Shipping News?" I guessed, trying to name books that I knew to contain incest. "Think more literary."
"Ada or Ardour?"
"See, I knew you'd be able to form an intelligent guess. I had hoped that since it's the next book on our cirriculum, some eager student had already read that far. But I guess we'll start in on that next week. You should read the first 120 pages by then. Sean, would you mind staying after class? The rest of you can leave."
Their leaving was as rats from a sinking ship, quiet and efficient. Ms Magunderson smiled politely as she watched them go, closed the door behind the last, and locked it. Then she turned to me, walked to the desk immediately in front ot it, and sat down on it, crossing her legs and setting her feet upon the chair.
"Now Sean, I received a curious call from your mother last night."
"Oh?" I said, hoping that this wasn't leading where I thought it was.
"It would seem that you told your mother that I told you that she and I had a sexual relationship. Is that true?" Her manner was poisonously sweet.
"It's actually not exactly true," I said.
"Oh?"
"She asked me if you told me, and I said that it didn't matter."
