I had just turned nineteen years old and this was my last summer at home before going to college. What a summer it would be. It changed my life forever. Mom was thirty-seven, divorced and by far, the most gorgeous woman I had ever known. Her name was Melinda, but everyone called her Nikki, because of her striking resemblance to Stevie Nicks, the rock singer. She said her friends back in high school had started calling her that and it just stuck. To me, she was far more attractive than any rock star or actress; she was perfection.
She sat on the edge of her bed, wearing a shiny, blue robe, tied in the front. Her long, thick, blonde hair hung down over her shoulders. My mother had beautiful brown eyes and they seemed to be staring right through me. I had a feeling I knew what she wanted when she called me into her bedroom, but I was wrong.
"Hey Mom," I said, as I walked in.
"Hey Sweetie," she replied. There was a nervousness to her voice that I was expecting. She always seemed uncomfortable talking about my dad.
"Well," I said, "it's been two years to the day. I hate this anniversary."
"I didn't realize that it was today," she said, looking up at me.
"I thought that's why you wanted to see me."
"No, the day your father left was one of the best days of my life," she said, as she patted the bed next to her, "sit down with me honey."
"You never deserved how he treated you. I'm glad he's gone."
"I know, but let's not talk about that right now. My attention was drawn by something and I think we need to talk about it," she said, in a very serious tone.
"Momma, is every thing okay?" I asked.
She reached into the top drawer of her night stand and pulled out an envelope. She opened it and showed me the contents. My heart dropped and I felt my face burn red. To say I was embarrassed would be an understatement. She handed me the photos of her she had obviously found in my room. I had taken them a few months earlier without her knowledge. There was one of her in a red bikini I took of her in the back yard next to the pool and several more of them I had taken of her as she was stepping out of the shower.
"I am so sorry," I said looking up from the incriminating evidence I held in my hands. "I never meant for you to know about this."
"How many other women have you photographed without their consent?" she asked.
