Boomerang

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

This is just a quick flash story I wrote. It's loosely based on an actual event that I witnessed, though the story and characters are fictional.

***

My front door opened and slammed closed almost immediately. The loud "BAM" could be heard and felt across all corners of my house, which is significant because my home is rather large.

"MOM! You here MOM?"

Lance?

Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. I could hear it in the way he called for me. Any mother knows every pitch of their only child's voice. A man only calls his mother's name in this tone of desperation for one reason, and one reason only.

This was the cry of death; more accurately, a final plea to be spared from it. For a man to call his mother means he has lost all hope of surviving this ordeal.

Rushing into the living room, I saw my son standing in the foyer of my house.. And let me tell you, the sight of him matched the desperation of his scream for his mother. His shoulders slumped, like his clothes were too heavy for him. His eyes looked like they were sunken into his head. His face was washed over with tears.

He looked like death was upon him.

"Lance? What's wrong?"

"Mom..." he said, this time in a voice so low it was barely audible. The two of us closed the space between us. When we met, I hugged him close, much like I did when he was younger. Lance was quite a bit taller than me now, so he had to slump down to return the hug.

No matter how old a boy gets, he will always need his mother.

"Honey, what's wrong?" I repeated. His cheek pressed into the top of my head as his arms clutched me tighter.

"She's gone Mom. Lily's gone."

Those words hit me hard. Panic filled me. Lily, my daughter in law, was much more to me than Lance's wife. She was my daughter in every sense that Lance was my son. I loved her as much as I could've if she came from my very womb.

Dear God. What happened to Lily?

Giving him a light push to give me space, I gently lifted my son's chin so that his eyes were level with mine. In a calm, yet tense voice, I said, "Lance, son, I need you to talk to me. I need to know what's going on. Is Lily all right?"

His face changed at that. Almost instantaneously, that sad, despondent look morphed into something else. His eyes iced over. A cynical, angry smirk appeared on his lips. He looked sinister.

With a chilling sarcasm in his voice, he answered my question with, "Lily's great mom. You don't have to worry about her. She's just living her best life right now with Randall."

Huh?

Seeing my confusion, he laughed aloud. It wasn't a funny laugh. It was more like laughing to keep from crying.

"Oh...she didn't tell you?" he asked rhetorically. "Yeah, Lily - the daughter you never had - has been cheating on me!"

He gave me a moment to let that sink in. I must admit, a part of me was relieved. After the horrible scenarios that I had running through my head of Lily's mangled body in a car accident, it was nice to hear that she was safe and well.

But then, a second realization hit. The realization of the implications of this new situation. How this effects my son. How this effects the entire family. The betrayal. In a way, this was much, much worse.

"What?"

"Oh yeah!" he said, theatrically clapping his hands at the shock on my face. With dramatic humor in his voice, he continued with, "Lily has been in a second relationship for SIX FUCKING MONTHS!"

He once again let out another laugh as he walked away from me. He headed towards the kitchen, no doubt going to pour himself a stiff drink.

I followed him, my feet moving like I was walking through sludge. As I entered the kitchen, I saw that my prediction was correct. He'd already helped himself to some whiskey, only he didn't even bother with the glass. He was taking a swig straight from the bottle.

I lightly grabbed the bottle from his hands with no words. After going into the cabinet and pulling out two glasses, I poured a bit in both. Then I slid one across the counter to him. He lifted his glass, swallowed the whiskey in one gulp, and signaled me like a bar tender for another.

I poured him another, this time allowing myself to ask one of the questions that was burning inside my head.

"Who's Randall?"

After gulping that down like he did the first time, he caustically answered, "Randall is the guy that my beloved wife has been FUCKING behind my back."

I grimaced at his coarse language. I'm no prude, and I'm certain that my son's vocabulary isn't always proper English when he's out of earshot of his mother, but I will never be accustomed to hearing my son swear. Especially when talking about his wife.

He caught my face though, and for some reason was a tad bit insulted. "I'm sorry, mom. Should I have said something less offensive, like making love?"

I could only roll my eyes at my son and remember that this was his pain talking. I did, however, refrain from pouring him another glass.

"I guessed that he is her affair partner." I said, giving him the correct answer. "What I meant was, who was he to her before she cheated with him? Her coworker? Her friend? A stranger from the internet?"

His countenance once again went back to being sad. He shrugged lifelessly and asked, "Does it matter?"

Upon reflection, I agreed. "No. I guess not.

This time, it was me who took the sip, but only because the silence between our words was uncomfortable. After a moment, I asked, "Does she love him?"

He looked away from me, almost like he didn't want me to see that tear that snuck out the corner of his eye and escaped down his cheek. With a small nod, he answered my question.

Silence fell again. I knew that Lance wanted me to pour him another glass, but I didn't need him getting drunk. Situations like this require a clear head. Drinking numbs the pain temporarily, but that reprieve only makes the drinker capable of inflicting more damage.

I would know. I was in a similar situation many years ago.

"Tell me everything." I said to him.

***

Randall was a guy she worked with. Typical. They were put on a project together two years ago. He remembered that time frame because it was one where she had to go out of town for a week.

She never mentioned Randall, which in itself was a red flag that Lance didn't even know existed. He just remembered that something was a bit off with her when she came back. Nothing big, just that she was a bit more...introspective.

No sex happened on that trip. The two of them just hung out. Like friends. No harm. No foul.

Right. Like sex is the only threat to a marriage.

Over the next year and a half, their connection grew. They were still colleagues at this point, nothing more than work friends. But that seed was sown, and it was being watered on a daily basis. Pretty soon, their comfortability and familiarity blurred boundaries. Team building lunch breaks became lunch for two. After work drinks with coworkers became the two of them heading to a bar to unwind.

Lance never noticed. He didn't see his wife slipping away from him, growing closer to another man. Their marriage hit a predictable snag, like most marriages do. They had less sex, less communication, less time for each other. But even during this, they didn't argue much. They just...existed; floated around each other like the typical busy married couple.

Lance said there weren't any signs, but I knew that was a lie. Men rarely notice the glaring, neon lights of an unhappy wife until it is too late. Still, I couldn't blame him. She should've communicated if she were unhappy with my son. What kind of person does this to a spouse they claim to love?

The pain on Lance's face curdled my love for Lily. As he told his story, I could see pieces of his heart fall to the ground in shattered bits.

The first time he noticed something was wrong was when he walked in on her crying. He thought something bad happened at work, but he was wrong. It was the exact opposite. Something great happened at work, though it was the worst thing that could've possibly happened.

She and this Randall guy shared a kiss for the first time. A passionate one. One of those kisses that makes you question everything. It was perfect in all the wrong ways.

That was six months ago, when the affair started. At least, that's what Lance is counting as the start. But I knew better. The affair really started two years ago on that work trip. That's when this ending became inevitable. The mutual attraction that the two of them pretended not to have for each other. The secret nugget in the back of their minds as they surreptitiously wondered what the other looked like naked.

That kiss was just that little seedling sprouting up from the dirt.

The sex, the only part that most men care about, had been going on for 5 of the 6 months. This was when the distance between them grew to Grand Canyon levels. This was when the arguments started. The cold bed. The lonely nights. The impassable impasse.

And then, today happened. He came home from work to the sight of her packing her things.

"We just grew apart. Things between us have changed. We haven't had a connection for a while now. You must've felt it."

That was her explanation. 6 years of marriage dissolved in a single day.

Of course, she made it sound like she was doing him a favor. It was unfair to him to have her living this lie. He needed to be free to find the woman that would love him with her whole heart. He was such an amazing guy that it would really be a disservice to keep him trapped in this loveless marriage.

Blah, blah, blah. She's such a saint; that fucking daughter in law of mine.

"So...what are you gonna do?" I asked him as his words trickled off.

He shrugged, and then his shoulders slumped. "I don't know."

His retelling of the events that led up to today had worn him out. He looked like he'd been doing battle all day.

All I could do was once again give him another loving hug. There is no more of a helpless feeling than of a mother looking at her child in pain. There was nothing I could do to free him of this. No amount of money or love from me could help him. In this, he was truly alone.

I hated Lily for this. As much as I loved her, I hated her. Lance didn't deserve this. How could a woman do this to a man she claimed to love?

"Lily is dead to me." I whispered to him as we hugged, meaning every word.

I wanted my son to know that I was on his side. I wanted him to know that as much as I loved Lily, I would completely disavow any feelings I had for her if I had to choose between them.

Lance slipped from my arms and slowly paced the kitchen. He ran both hands through his hair as he blew out a long breath. He came to rest back at the counter, leaning his rear end against it.

Just as I was thinking of how unscrupulous Lily was, and how much of a loathsome woman she turned out to be, I heard Lance chuckle to himself. It was bitter. Then, words came from his mouth that pierced me to my soul.

"This must've been what dad felt like."

At first, the words didn't register. They sounded angry and hateful, so much so that I didn't realize that they were aimed at me.

"What did you say?"

He turned to face me, and for the first time in decades, my son angrily glared at me.

"When you cheated on dad and left him for Bill..."

He didn't get a chance to finish that sentence because my hand moved with a mind of its own. A loud SMACK rang out and echoed across the kitchen.

How could he even bring his mouth to say such a foul thing? He was so young when that happened. He had no idea what went down between his father and me.

Since my marriage to Thomas ended, all he's known is Bill. Thomas tried to fulfill his fatherly role in Lance's life (in the beginning), but I never asked him for anything when I left. I set him free, fully and completely. He got the house. He got the car. He didn't have to pay me any spousal or child support. The only thing I wanted from him was to live my life.

In the end, he gave me that. He disappeared and left me and Lance to live happily with Bill. As much as it killed him, he did me that favor. In return, I did the same for him.

I thought that was the best way to do things; the best way to give all of us a fresh start. Me, Lance, and Bill had the opportunity to be a family. Thomas got to move on with no financial ties to his previous life. Of course it hurt at the time, but I felt like a clean break would heal a lot better than endless baby daddy drama and ex-husband mayhem.

Bill had money. He had a house. There was nothing I needed to fight with Thomas over.

In a sense, I was right. Lance had a good life. He went to a private school. He went to one of the best colleges and graduated with no student debt. He was able to start his career fresh from graduation, and was now living a lucrative, affluent life. Thomas was a hard worker, but there was no way he could give Lance any of that.

It was the best ending to a messed-up situation. At least, that's what I thought. But now, it would seem that my son saw things differently.

The two of us stood there in silence after that, just staring at each other. I expected him to look apologetic, to feel remorse for his unwarranted attack on me. But he didn't. He just glared at me, like I was the one who did him wrong.

Finally, I asked, "Why would you say that to me?"

He sighed. "Because Mom..."

"Because what?"

With a groan, he hoisted himself away from the counter and started pacing again. The rhythmic sound of his steps boomed against the quiet between our words.

His tone then changed, switching from angry to inquisitive as he asked, "What time will Bill be home tonight?"

I almost screamed out at his avoidance of the apology I was owed, but I refrained. Squelching my annoyance at his drive-by sneak attack, I answered, "I don't know. You know Bill works late."

He nodded thoughtfully at this information. Then, almost calculatedly, he asked, "You ever wonder..."

Admittedly, this had been a sore spot between me and Bill for a few months now. We'd been arguing about his late nights, his growing distance from me, and his lack of affection. I didn't know if Lance knew this or not, which made me question why he even asked.

I knew what he was getting at, and the very thought of where he was going sickened me.

"No, I don't." I said quickly, the incredulity of such a thought repulsing me. "Bill loves me. He wouldn't do that."

"You mean...like you loved Dad?"

I gasped audibly at the icy accusation in his voice. Now I knew for sure he was attacking me. His anger had transferred from his wife onto me.

"Now you listen to me..." I said, closing the space between us. I looked directly into his indignant eyes as I sternly spoke. "I am not your wife. I'm your mother. Keep your anger where it belongs, and don't take it out on me."

I could see him soften at my admonishment. This interaction gave me a wave of déjà vu. Not so much the topic of conversation, but the way he just looked at me as I scolded him. It was like when he stayed out too late in high school and came home drunk and smelling like beer and marijuana.

Once again, I had my boy back. The sad look returned to his face, killing me all over again. Just as I was about to reach out and hold him, he asked, "Do you ever regret what you did to dad?"

There was no anger in his voice, but that didn't take away the sting of his question. He wasn't really asking about Thomas, and what I did all those years ago. He was asking about himself.

Will Lily ever regret what she did? Will she ever look back at this day and feel the burn? Or will she live happily ever after?

Lance looked so much like his father. It was uncanny how much he resembled him sometimes. And this was my curse, because looking at Lance right now was like going back in time.

That day, nearly 2 decades ago, I stood in a kitchen with Thomas. It was much smaller than the kitchen I now stood in. Thomas would never make as much money as Bill. Our house was smaller. Our life was smaller. Bill was the personification of "Rags to Riches." He built his company, the one I worked at as his secretary, from the ground up. He was bold. He was smart. He was confident. He was a person who chased what he wanted with relentless vigor.

And he swept me off my feet with ease. Hypocrisy, thy name is Tina.

Yes, I was once Lily. Decades ago, I sanctimoniously stood in front of my then husband touting out the same platitudes that she fed to my son.

"That was different." I told myself. "Me and Thomas were on two different wavelengths. We were so distant at that point. We hadn't been a couple for months. He had to know we were over. Our ending was practically inevitable."

But was it? I was so sure at the time. I honestly believed it when I told him that he was a great guy who was going to make another woman the happiest in the world. He really was better off letting me go and finding her; the one who would love him like he deserved to be loved.

But that woman wasn't me. Not anymore. Because now, I loved Bill.

Come to think of it, he looked EXACTLY like my poor Lance looked now. Like his world had been ripped from its foundation.

As if intruding into my secret thoughts and reading them, Lance cut in. He was half mumbling to himself, but his words were as clear as day.

"People say you marry your mother, but I never thought..."

He turned away from me with that. It was like he could no longer look at me; like the sight of me disgusted him.

"Lance..." I said as I reached out for him. My heart broke when he waved me off.

"I gotta go." he muttered as he walked away.

I followed him, calling his name, but he ignored me. He couldn't get away from me fast enough. A connection was made in his mind. His pain was superimposed over the pain his father felt many years ago. The fact that he was now walking in the same heavy shoes his father once walked filled him with sympathy that far outweighed his love for me.

"Lance, please! Where are you going?"

He'd reached my front door at this time. He'd just opened it and was about to walk out when he heard me. For some reason, my questions stopped him.

There he stood, one foot in my house, and one foot trying to escape me. After a thoughtful moment, he looked at me and said, "I need to speak to the only person who knows what I'm going through."

His dad. He wanted to speak to Thomas.

I sighed sadly. "Baby, no one even knows where he is."

"I do." He said with a hint of the first real smile he's had all evening. it was small, faint, and barely there, but it was genuine. "I've known where he is for about a year now."

"What?"

"Yeah." He said with a shrug. "I found him. Well, he found me, actually. But since then, we've been...talking."

I don't know what scared me more; the fact that he'd been talking to Thomas for a year, or the fact that he never told me about it.

"About what?" I asked carefully, fighting the impulse to completely lose my shit.

He didn't answer me. Not with words. But there was a look that he gave me. A look that said everything.

Then, he was gone. Just like when he entered, the loud BAM of the front door shook the entire house. At that moment, I felt lonelier than I'd ever felt.

Of course, I'll always be his mother. Nothing could change that, not even Thomas. It would be an over exaggeration to say that I lost his love, no matter how much misplaced anger he was dumping on me right now. But I did know that he would never look at me the same again. I was no longer infallible in the eyes of my son.

It's a sad day when our children realize that we're just as fucked up as everyone else.