At Play On the Sand with Mom

Adam turned right at the street running along the coast. He knew from years of experience that the beach house was only a mile away. Although his family had gone to the beach house every summer for fourteen years, this was his first time driving to it. In previous years his dad had driven. But dad couldn't do that now. This summer it was just Adam and his mom, sitting in the seat next to him.

"We're almost there," Adam said, breaking a long silence. He tried to sound cheerful.

"Almost," said his mom, after a moment's pause. "I wonder if it's any different."

"Probably not. It's never changed before. I'll bet it's the same."

Two minutes later, Adam pulled the Toyota into the driveway of the house. It looked the same as ever: angular and modern, clad in stained, gray wood vertical plank siding, designed to mix with the other houses around it and not to distract from the windswept landscape of the Northern California coast. Beyond the house, a treeless, gentle slope blanketed by sun-browned grass extended a hundred yards or so before falling away in a steep bluff to the beach, a hundred feet below. On the far side of the land's end the Pacific Ocean spread out in a muted blue plane in every direction, until it met a thin, smoky smudge hanging over the western horizon -- the fog that with clocklike regularity rolled in and over the coast before sunset.

Adam urged his mom to go in the house and relax while he brought the luggage in from the car. They would only stay a few days, so there wasn't much to carry. He lugged the small suitcases to the two bedrooms and put the food in the cupboards and refrigerator. When Adam was done he pulled a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc out of the refrigerator and poured generous helpings into cheap long-stemmed wine glasses. He took the glasses to the deck, where his mom sat in a chair looking out at the ocean. The quiet was broken only by the music of low wind and nearby surf.

"I thought you'd like this," he said.

"I see you poured yourself some, too," she said, with a thin smile.

"I sure did. I'm legal now, mom. Remember?"

Adam had turned 21 in the previous year. He'd graduated from college three months earlier.

"It's easy to forget," she said. "Or maybe I make myself forget because it makes me feel old to think about your age. But we shouldn't really be drinking so early in the day, should we?"

"It's play time, mom," Adam said. It was one of his dad's favorite phrases. Every year they'd show up at the beach house. Adam's mom, Mara, might be tired or withdrawn. Adam might miss his friends and video games. But his dad, Kirk, could not be slowed. He'd pull himself straight and upright and with a lumberjack voice call "It's play time, kids!" Mara and Adam would have no choice but to comply. To foil or cross dad was unthinkable. His energy and enthusiasm were boundless and irresistible.

Adam's dad had died in a car crash ten months earlier. His big, booming, playful voice had been silenced forever. Without dad around the family was much quieter. Adam's mom, unlike his dad, was soft-spoken and reserved. Adam wasn't as quiet as his mom, but he didn't have his dad's ebullience, either. He tried to do his part to pick up his mom's spirits, but it didn't come as easy to him as it had to his dad.

Adam knew his mom still grieved. In recent months she'd gotten out more, seeing friends and tending to her personal needs, but she still went through extended periods of withdrawal and silence. Adam grieved, too, but college graduation and the need to get a job kept him busy and prevented him from wallowing in despair at the loss of his father. But he felt a responsibility to help his mom. It pained him to see her still hurting.

On the deck, warmed by the mid-day sun, Adam wanted to pick up his mom's spirits.

"Dad would be glad we're here," he said.

"You think so?" Mara asked her son.

"I know so, mom. Dad always wanted you to be happy. There was nothing more important to him."

Mara smiled.

"Nobody knew happy like your dad. He was happy every where he went. He infected everyone around him with his happiness. Sometimes it was annoying. I can't tell you how many times I'd be napping or relaxing on the sofa and your dad would burst into the room and scream, 'Time to play, Mara!'"

"He really loved you. He told me that all the time."

"Yeah?" she said, looking up from her lap. "Your dad wore his heart on his sleeve. He was unusual for a man in that way. You're more like me. You hold it in."

Mara stared at her son and Adam stared back. He wondered what his mom was thinking, but as always, he didn't know. His dad always had been an open book, but his mom always had been a closed one. Adam had no idea what his mom was thinking.

Adam scanned the horizon beyond the house deck. The band of fog at the horizon still was far off, but when it came it would come quickly, and then it would be too cold to spend time on the beach.

"Let's go play, mom," Adam said. "We've got time to relax. Let's enjoy the warmth while we can and go to the beach. You know that's what dad would say if he was here."

"He would, I'm sure. O.K. Let's do that."

Fifteen minutes later Adam and Mara walked down the steep path from the house to the beach. The sun beat on them, warming them, but a steady cool breeze blew off the ocean, heralding the oncoming late afternoon gloom.

They took off their sandals when they reached the beach to let their bare feet touch the sand. They walked to the surf until they reached the high-water mark, where loose uneven sand gave way to compact moist sand and the walking was easier. They stopped and took in the view.

"I think I built a hundred sand castles in this spot," Adam said.

"I think you did. Your dad helped you," Mara said.

They stood together and watched the waves come in, one after another.

Adam stood just behind his mom and looked at her. He wasn't sure what swimsuit she wore because she wore a short, loose yellow beach dress over it. Her figure looked firm and eager and youthful, and Adam, who had mourned his dad's death in his own way for months, felt a twinge of the sadness his mom must have felt for being too young to have lost a husband.

Mara took Adam's hand.

"Come with me," she said. She pulled him to the right and they began walking along the beach.

It was mid-summer, and the sun beat down on them without the interruption of clouds, but it was only middling warm. The water off the Northern California coast looked inviting, but in truth it was cold all year long, and the riptides were fierce. The cold water cooled the air flowing off the ocean, and even at the peak of summer it was seldom truly hot.

Adam and his mom walked a long time north along the beach, past the area where he and his mom and dad usually spent their time. The width of the beach narrowed as they walked, until it ended in a jumble of rocks between the water and the bluff.

His mom led him over them. They walked carefully. The rocks were uneven and slippery, and pools of seawater left by the high tide filled the crevices and low areas between them. Adam noticed crabs and anemones filling the pools.

They scrambled through and over the rocks until they ended, and another sandy beach began. This one was much smaller. It was an intimate semicircle of sand bounded by the bluffs and cut off from the beach on either side by rocks.

"I don't think we've been here before," Adam said.

"You haven't, maybe," Mara said. "Your dad and I came here. This was our beach."

She led him to the center of the little beach, with the bluff walls forming a U around them, opening to the sea ahead of them. Mara lay her blanket on the sand and sat down. Adam sat down next to her. They sat on the beach together for minutes, watching the waves crash to the shore, not saying anything. Mara broke the silence.

"I wonder if we shouldn't have come here," she said.

"You mean to this spot?" Adam asked.

"I mean to the beach house. To this place. To everywhere around it. I feel your dad's presence everywhere."

"I know what you mean. It's hard not to think about him everywhere. Dad was always directing things. But I think he would have liked it for us to be here. At least one last time."

Mara pulled the dress over her head and tossed it into the beach bag. She sat next to Adam in a pale pink bikini. Adam had seen his mom in a bikini -- that was nothing new -- but with his dad gone it felt different this time. He noticed her in a way that he hadn't before. The absence of his father made his mother's exposure seem more intimate than before. She looked good for a woman in her mid-40s. She wasn't as skinny as she had been in her 20s, but she kept herself in good shape. Her breasts and legs looked firm and her waist was still thin.

Adam pulled off his t shirt and sat next to his mom bare-chested and in black board shorts. His mom looked at chest with an approving eye

"Looks like you've been working out."

"I try when I can. You're looking good, too, mom."

"Well, thanks. I think I'm doing well for an old lady. This suit's a little skimpy for a woman my age, though."

Adam thought it fit her quite well. Mom obviously was not in her twenties, but her body didn't reveal anything to be embarrassed about.

"Nah," he said. "You look great. I'm sure dad would think so."

"Your dad always liked me to wear this suit. In fact, that's why I'm wearing it. I wore this suit the first time we came to this spot on the beach fourteen years ago, and he wanted me to wear the same one every year since." She hooked a finger under the string tie at her pelvis. "It's getting a little threadbare, actually. I'm going to retire it after this trip."

Adam saw what she meant. Although mom looked great in the suit, it did look a little frayed and thin and discolored in places. The upside to that, though, is it showed more of his mom. The top showed pert round buttons under the fabric that covered her breasts. Adam's eye strayed to the bottom, and he could not help but noticed how tightly it molded over pubic mound, and how it indented where it covered her sex. Adam looked away, not wanting to get caught looking at her.

"Let's go in," she said.

"In the water? Mom, the water is freezing here. This isn't Hawaii."

"It's cold, not freezing. And the riptide isn't so bad here. I've tried it. As long as we stay close to the beach we'll be fine."

She was up and beginning to walk to the water's edge before Adam could say anything. He watched her ass sway as she walked. He sighed and decided to join her. He couldn't be a wimp in front of his mother.

His mom walked into the surf 20 yards ahead of him. She walked briskly, seemingly not minding the cold, until the water splashed around her upper thighs just below the bikini bottom. When Adam's feet hit the water his mouth opened in surprise at how cold it was. It was mid-August, but the water along this part of the coast was too cold for swimming -- to him it was, at least.

Mara seemed to mind it less. She extended her arms and let herself fall back into a frothy wave. The sea enveloped her for a few minutes until she bobbed up and stood over the water again, running back toward Adam to escape the hard pull of the receding water.

The sight of his mom made Adam forget the cold for a minute. If the suit had looked threadbare out of the water, it looked scandalously so soaked. Mom's breasts bobbed as her thighs pumped up and down in the water. Each nipple was perfectly outlined in the thin suit fabric. One of her breasts looked like it was about to pop out of its cup. But it was the bottom that really caught his eye --perfectly molded to the flesh between her legs and cloven down the middle to reveal the indentation of her sex.

"Come on, you've got to dunk yourself, even if you're not going to swim," she said.

"There's no way I'm swimming in this," Adam said. "And I'm not sure about dunking. I think this is enough for me. It's too cold."

"I dunked, and you have to too."

She approached him with a sly smile.

"Mom, what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking Adam needs some help overcoming his fear of the ocean."

"I am not --"

He couldn't finish because his mom splashed him. Cold water hit his chest and waist. He splashed his mom back, but before he could do it a second time she ran to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Her arms and torso were cold, but the press of her curves against him felt good even so.

The fell sideways into the water. At that moment a wave washed over them, not big, but bigger than the ones that had come before, and as it receded they felt their bodies being pulled together seaward. They struggled to their feet without letting go of each other and fought the tug of the current going the other way. The left the water clutching each other, cold and laughing, and ran back to their beach blankets.

Although the sun beat down at a lower angle than before the air was still warm, and they both sat up on the blankets to dry off.

"That felt good," Mara said.

"I don't know about good, but it was a change. It feels good to be warming up now."

They sat quietly for a while on the beach while the afternoon air warmed and dried their skin.

"Do you know why your dad and I kept coming back to this spot on the beach?" Mara asked.

"Why?" Adam asked.

"It was secluded, and far enough away from the beach houses that almost no one ever walked by. The first time we came here, your dad stripped off my bikini and he made love to me."

Adam had no idea what to say. He couldn't imagine his mom and dad having sex in the middle of a public beach, and he couldn't imagine why his mom was telling him about it now.

"Weren't you afraid of getting caught?" he asked, finally.

"Yes, but that's what made it exciting and fun. I'd never done anything like it before. He got this crazy grin on his face and said, 'Play time, Mara.' And then he started untying the bikini. I was naked before I could say anything. I was surprised and shocked, but I wanted it as much as he did."

"Where was I?" Adam said.

"Remember how when you were young you spent time over at Andersons' beach house, playing with their son David? That's when. When you were older we just let you stay at the house or go where you wanted."

"My god," Adam said after a long pause. "Did you ever get caught?"

"Only once. A young couple walked by. We didn't notice them at first, but I happened to glance up and saw them standing by the edge of the water, watching us. I was startled and tried to pull away, but your dad kept fu -- making love to me. I watched them as they watched us. They watched us for about five minutes and then walked away. That was the only time."

Adam was taking it all in, or trying to. It was hard to picture his parents in this very spot doing what his mom was describing.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked.

"I don't know, Adam," she said. "I don't think we're going to come back here. We were always pretty open with you about things and the memory popped into my head and I wanted to share it. I guess that's not much like me—sharing something like that. I don't know what made me want to do it. Maybe because your dad is gone I feel like I can share it. I hope you're not freaked out."

"Well," Adam said. "It's kind of weird. But I guess I can handle it."

They sat quiet again for a while, until Mara spoke.

"The fog's coming in."

It was. They hadn't noticed, but what had been a thin gray-white line over the horizon of the ocean was now a billowy wall drawing closer, obscuring much of the western sky. A colder front of air lead it, blowing onto the beach, nipping their exposed skin. drawing goosebumps.

"I think we should go back," Mara said.

"OK."

They walked south along the sand, back to the beach house, the lead edges of the fog bank already caressing the surrounding slope of grass as they reached the door. It was cool inside the house, and Mara and Adam both changed into jeans and long sleeve pullover tops.

That evening they cooked spaghetti and French bread and drank two-thirds of a bottle of white wine together. Adam's mom didn't mention having sex on the beach again, but Adam couldn't stop thinking about what she'd said. It didn't shock him, exactly, but he couldn't get it out of his mind. He looked across the table at his mom, her face aglow from candles they'd lit to offset the gloom of the surrounding fog. She looked younger to him than she'd seemed before. He kept thinking about her on the sand, with her legs parted, being fucked. That's when it hit him. He was aroused. He touched himself under the table, and, sure enough, his dick was hard. He glanced quickly at his lap, and there was no doubting the bulge under the tight jeans.

When he looked up he noticed his mom was smiling, maybe even smirking at him, and he wondered if she knew what was going on, even if she couldn't see his lap from across the table. But she said nothing.

After dinner, they sat together on the sofa watching a movie. 15 minutes into it, Mara curled up next to Adam and lay her back against his chest. She didn't say anything, and Adam didn't either. He didn't know what to do with his hands, so he rested them on his mom's thighs. He couldn't concentrate on the movie. If someone had asked him to describe the plot he couldn't have done it. There was nothing lewd about it. His mom didn't say or do anything suggestive, other than to keep her back against his chest and side. For the rest of the movie Adam felt the heat of her body against his. His cock hardened against his pants for a second time, and he was thankful his mom couldn't feel it or see it as she watched the movie.

When the movie was over they went to bed, each to their own rooms. Adam lay awake in his bed staring at the ceiling for a long time, wrestling to make sense of the jumble of feelings inside him from the events of the day.

x x x

Adam awoke late the next morning. The light came in from a window looking to the west and to the ocean, but it was a low light, because fog still shrouded the coastal land outside. It obscured everything more than a hundred feet away. Adam heard noises from outside his room and guessed that his mom, an early riser, was cooking breakfast. Sure enough, his nose caught the scent of bacon. The smell was enough to rouse him from bed.

Minutes later he exited his room and padded to the kitchen in gym shorts and an old t-shirt. His mom was in the kitchen, tending to something over the stovetop. He caught his breath. She wore only a t-shirt, long enough to cover her butt, but not much longer. Its bottom hem hit high on her thighs. Adam's gaze followed her legs to the floor, and he was struck by how shapely they were.

Something stirred again, this time under his gym shorts.

I've got to stop that, he thought. He looked away and tried to think about something other than the length of his mother's legs exposed under the shirt.

"Good morning," he said with a croak.

"Hi honey!" his mom said, more awake than he was. "I didn't hear you. Breakfast will be ready soon."

"That sounds great," he said. "I'll get the table ready."

Ten minutes later they sat at a small table looking, as always, toward the ocean. The morning gloom still hung over the water and surrounding land, but when they looked to the sky they could see irregular breaks in the cloud cover where light struggled to get through. The fog would burn off soon. Adam wolfed down Mara's waffles and bacon and blueberries, and he washed it down with two cups of coffee. They said little as they ate.

By eleven a.m., breakfast was eaten, and the dishes were done. Mara retired to her room without saying anything, leaving Adam unsure what, if anything, she had planned for the day. For all he knew, she might be thinking about dad. He gave her her space and read a few chapters of a crime thriller that he pulled from the living room bookshelf.