A couple of mornings later, Susan called just as Angela was getting ready to leave for work. Her best friend rarely called this early. Angela frowned.
"Hi Susan, what's up?"
"Angela, oh, I'm so glad to catch you. I...I think we need to talk. Something's happened".
"You ok?"
"I'm fine. I mean...I'm not sure. It's not like that. I can't really talk about it on the phone. Can I come by tomorrow?"
"You mean come all the way down to London?"
"Um, yes."
Angela's heart began to sink. A sudden thought occurred to her. Maybe this was about Jeremy. She hadn't done anything actually wrong, had she? Going out with him to a nightclub was celebration. But the way she had dressed, the way she had felt...if Susan had some hint of that from Jeremy's description of the visit?
"Susan, you sound serious."
"I..I'm just can't tell. I want to talk it through with you first. I could easily be down on a train for when you get back from work."
"Of course. I'll be here."
"Oh, thank you Angela. You've always been my best friend."
Angela rang off and sat back down for a while, contemplating. Then she stood up and went and got Jeremy's musky and soft t-shirt which he had once again left after his visit - was the boy just forgetful or what? - and put it in the trash. Then she changed her mind and put it in the wash and started a load so she couldn't change her mind again. Already in the machine were her yellow panties - they had been wadded up in the sheets as she had left them and she had no way to answer the anguished question as to whether or not he had found them.
She didn't sleep well that night. When she was awake, she was anxious about how the conversation would go with Susan. She didn't want to lose an old friendship. And she didn't think she should have to feel as ashamed as she did, but...she did. Asleep though, her dreams were filled with erotic images. She awoke several times in the night, sweaty and disturbed.
"Hi Susan. Come on in. How was the train?"
"Fine, just fine. You look great!"
Angela had thought carefully about what to wear and chosen a casual but not unflattering dress. She was determined not to act more guilty than she had to.
"Tea?"
"Um, do you have anything stronger?"
And so they sat on opposite ends of the sofa, perched and awkward, glasses of red wine in hand.
"Angela, thanks for meeting with me so suddenly. I know I've been mysterious. But you'll understand. Well, I hope you will."
"Susan, maybe I should try to explain..."
"No, no please. Let me start, ok? I need to ... get this off my chest.'
Angela sat back. Wary but also hopeful. This didn't seem quite the mood she was expecting.
"It's about Jeremy," Susan continued. Angela nodded, her spirits sinking a bit again. "First, some background. You know, you know I haven't had another man in my life for, well for years. After the divorce. Dating was...well, never went well for me. And that's mostly been ok. I've told myself that I don't need it in, you know, that way, like some. The physical that is. But well, the emotional intimacy, actually having a companion. That I have missed. Or rather I would have. I've been thinking about this. The truth is, I've been the classic single Mum. I've used my son for a lot of that missing companionship. Encouraged him to live with me to save money during University. Shared evening dinners. Going out to movies together, even at school - I think Jeremy must have seen more chick flicks than the rest of the boys in his school combined. And he's never complained. Always been lovely company - attentive and fun and, well, frankly adoring in a son/mum way."
"Sounds...lovely."
"Yes, I know, but, I had started to wonder, if I had, you know, smothered him a bit. Or at least channeled his attention too much. He didn't seem to take any interest in girls. Only his studies. And time with me. And, well, as you know, I even wondered if he was gay. Or maybe I was making him that way - I know that sounds terribly old-fashioned, but you know, I worried. But I also wanted him. For companionship. Or at least that's what I told myself."
Susan took another sip of wine, and seemed to steel herself.
"The fact is, when he started coming down here for interviews, I began to realize that he would likely be moving away. And soon. So, well, when he came back from staying with you, I started talking about girls with him. What he wanted. And talking about...sex. I thought it would be awkward, but it really wasn't. I told him he should be exploring his sexuality. And the truth is, just talking with him made me realize how much I missed it myself. We talked about it after dinner that night, and I went and got changed for bed. But then, well, I was just in such a funny mood, feeling sad and kind of anxious about him likely to leave home soon, but also being so - moved - by talking about sex with him, that I went back into his bedroom and sat on his bed and asked him more questions about what his fantasies were and he asked me about mine. I got even more...turned on I suppose, to be just honest about it, and the best was, I could see he was too. His, you know, his 'cock', was making a tent under the sheets." Susan paused, blushing. "Are you just horrified with me?"
Angela was so busy catching up with her emotions that she could hardly reply. "I...it's just...surprising. Did anything happen?"
"No. I mean, not then. I gave him a long hug goodnight, and I was really aware of how he must be able to feel my boobs. They're, as you know..."
"Yes, I do know. Nice and full. Always been a bit envious. Real mum's boobs."
Susan smiled at the comment.
"...but then I managed to get myself to just leave and go back to my own bed. But I hardly slept that night, I was so unbelievably...horny. There, I said it. The thought of him all grown up in the room next door with a real hard on. And the truth is, being my son didn't put a damper on it for me. I mean, it wasn't just an awkward situation. I wouldn't have wanted him to be some convenient stranger."
"You wanted to have sex with your son?" After all she had tormented herself with the last few days, Angela felt a sudden rush of relief in turning it around on her friend.
"Oh, my God, I know, I know Angela. It's so, so wrong - but you can't imagine what it was like, how turned on I was, lying there in my bed just wanting him and he being next door and maybe, for all I knew, just as...ready?"
"Um, yes maybe I can." Angela felt like she was on the edge of her own confession, but Susan seemed oblivious.
