Of Mothers and Milfs Pt. 01

"What her life is like...how it's been like since the divorce. Is she okay?"

"Ummm..." Charlie said, looking a little uncertain.

"Start from the beginning, when she first got married."

"Okay, let's see...she got married the year after she graduated from college in 2005..."

"Wait, I was born in 2004 and we're both 18..."

"Yeah, I was born in 2004 too. I believe you're probably capable of doing the math."

Charlie lapsed into silence. Walt saw a look of hurt and of anger overcome him and he waited for him to continue.

"Five years ago, my father suddenly moved out. He had already started divorce proceedings without even telling Mom. She didn't know anything about it until the she got a copy of his petition for divorce in the mail."

"Jesus...that's fucking cruel."

"Yeah...I haven't seen him since. Good thing, I'd probably strangle the mother-fucker if I saw him."

"Didn't the court give him visitation rights? What about child support, alimony?"

"It did, but he had no interest in ever seeing me or Mom again. He had to pay child support. He was an executive vice-president of a company and was slated to become CEO. He made a lot of money, as you can tell by this house. Mom got a six-figure settlement and child support until this year...and alimony for three years I think."

"God, Charlie...why did he do it?"

"I don't know. Mom doesn't want to talk about it but I don't think she really knows. No doubt, one or more other women were involved." Charlie stood up. "He never had any real interest in being a father. I'll be back in a minute."

Walt thought back to his question to Charlie about Amy's emotional state and realized it was more important than he had thought.

Charlie returned and sat down.

"Charlie, this is important. We need to know how she is now...I mean psychologically... how it's been as far back as you can remember. Is she okay? Is she stressed out about anything? How's her emotional state? Is she happy?"

As Charlie gazed at Walt, his face took on a troubled look before he finally looked away. "I don't really know, Walt...I..."

Walt could see his best friend was embarrassed and could easily guess why. "It's okay, Charlie. Take some time to think about it. Think back over your life with her. You have an more mature perspective now and you'll interpret things differently than you did as a child. Take your time, we can talk about it again when you're ready."

"Thanks, buddy...tell me about your mother."

"Let's see, she and my dad got married the year after she earned her Batchelor's Degree. He was a Ph.D. candidate in biomedical engineering. I was born the year after that. A year later, my Dad got his Ph.D. and we moved to Seattle where he went to work for an engineering firm that specialized in biomedical engineering. Mom started grad school there herself and eventually earned her Ph.D. in classic literature."

"Not to interrupt, but what does this have to do with the question?"

'It does, Charlie, it does," Walt said softly, "You'll see why in a minute. We loved Seattle. Dad was in the research department at his company and loved his job. He was very well paid too. Mom started teaching at Seattle University. We loved Vancouver too and frequently drove up there for the weekend. We'd rent a cabin on an island in Puget Sound every summer and go swimming, hiking and fishing. I thought I had the best family in the world. Then... then..." Walt's voice broke and he hunched down over the table so Charlie couldn't see the tears forming in his eyes. He wiped them with his hand then looked up at Charlie.

"July ninth, twenty-ten. A drunk driver ran a red light at high speed and t-boned Dad's car on his way home from work. He...he..." Walt couldn't continue and tried desperately to hold back his tears.

Charlie got up and came around the table. He sat down and put his arm around Walt "I understand...he died," he whispered, with tears in his own eyes. "It's okay."

Amy was just about to open the patio door to ask the boys if they would like her to order some pizza for lunch but she stopped in her tracks seeing Charlie hugging and trying to comfort an apparently crying Walt. She watched for a few moments then went back into the kitchen.

Walt sat back up and wiped his eyes. "He was thirty-three. Mom was a widow at thirty-one." Walt paused again for a long time. "Then things got worse. Three years after Dad was killed, Mom married a professor at Seattle University named Blaine Malcourt. Three years later he was shit-canned for trading grades for sex with undergraduate women. Mom kicked him out and the divorce became final early in 2019. Huxley-Dickens offered Mom a professorship and we moved here that summer. We became friends in eighth grade that year, remember?

"Yeah. She's gone through a lot hasn't she."

"She has...so has your mother."

"Sure, but I don't think as much. Fuck, to become a widow at thirty-one and then marry someone who Jekyll and Hydes into a fucking sexual predator, I mean...fuck!"

"I know, believe me, I know. I hated Malcourt from the first time I saw him. And I was

old enough to see right away that Mom started to be more and more unhappy."

"Is she happy now?"

Walt gazed out over the pool again. "I don't think I want to talk about it now. I think I'll go home and spend some time with her. Let's have this discussion in a few days...let's take some time to think."

"Okay."

After Walt had gone, Amy fixed some sandwiches for lunch. As they sat down to eat she asked Charlie "Why was Walt so upset?"

"He was telling me about his father being killed by a drunk driver when he was eight. Did Emily ever tell you?"

"She did. She asked me not to tell you because Walt still has a lot of difficulty dealing with it and doesn't want to talk about it."

"How's Emily doing? Is she okay?"

Amy ate a bite of her sandwich before answering. "I think she's okay. She has a good life here and a job she loves...not to mention Walt." She took another bite of her sandwich. "I think she's happy...more or less."

"I wish there were something we could do for her...and Walt," said Charlie.

They ate in silence for a while.

"How are you doing, Mom? You had a rough time too."

"I'm fine, sweetheart. You don't have to worry about me."

Charlie looked at her intently, sensing this was not entirely true.

* * *

Walt stood in the playing fields behind the Euglena Valley Recreation Center surrounded by young children. It was Monday morning, the first day of summer camps at the rec center. Walt was the science camp leader and he wanted to show his group of impressionistic third and fourth graders that science can be fun.

"Okay girls and boys, listen up. We're going to make the solar system. Who knows what that is?" Every hand shot up.

"Good. Now, I need some volunteers..."

"What was that all about? Charlie asked, grinning at Walt. They were sitting in the Broken Compass Coffee Shop on Main Street late that afternoon. "You and your little kiddies marching off towards the woods putting red flags in the ground. I could see you from the baseball fields. Were you marking the route for a new highway or something?"

Walt sipped his coffee while gazing at Charlie. "Yeah, that's it." He took another sip. "We built a scale-model of the solar system."

"What? How'd you do that?"

"Easy. The Sun was a soccer ball. So for accurate scale, Mercury and Venus were both coriander seeds, the Earth was a peppercorn. Proper scale—the kids could look at tiny coriander Mercury compared to the Sun. They could see that the first four planets were relatively close to the Sun, but then it's a long long way to Jupiter and the rest. We had to stop at Uranus because Neptune was still too far away. We could barely see the Sun's flag, much less the Sun. Scale man, it was awesome."

"Man, you're fucking brilliant."

"Not me, got it from NASA's website, sizes and distances and how to do it."

They sat in silence for a while, thinking about what they had come to the Broken Compass to talk about.

"Okay," Walt finally said. I'll start." Charlie looked at him with relief.

"I've been thinking about our life before Dad died. I was only eight then so I don't really remember much about what it was like. I have a number of memories about specific events, like getting a bicycle for my seventh birthday or opening presents on Christmas morning and Dad taking pictures. For the important things, I only have vague impressions...senses would be a more accurate description I think." Walt paused and gazed out the coffee shop window.

"I was happy. I remember a lot of laughter. I can't imagine how our family could have been any better, any more loving or happy. I remember not wanting to grow up but to live like that forever." Walt picked up his cup and cradled it in his hands, gazing out the window.

My Mom doesn't laugh as much now. If her life were a Monet painting back then, it would have been full of beautiful pastel colors and a sense of happiness. Now it's like the colors are gray and faded...and it evokes sorrow. It's very subtle, and it's taken me a while to see it and I..." Walt lapsed into silence.

"I never would have picked up on it if you hadn't told me, "said Charlie, "I guess you would have to had known her then to see it. It's good that she has you."

"Yeah, it's good that she has me. I can't even imagine her going through that alone. Well, like I told you last time, it got worse. She married that fucking world-class bottom feeder Malcourt. I'm not sure why...I could tell she didn't really love him. Maybe it was an act of hope...maybe she thought she should marry him so I would have a father-figure..." Walt stopped and blew a soft contemptuous raspberry. "That butt sniffer never gave a shit about me...and I don't think he gave a shit about Mom either. I think he was using her... for what I don't know. Maybe for cover for his sexual predation at Seattle University. So, wham, life fucks her again." He got up to get a refill on his coffee.

Walt returned and sat down.

"I think what happened to Dad ripped a hole in her life that can never be filled," he said, "and her pain will never really go away...even if she did have a happy marriage now. And then what Malcourt did was like...tossing a bomb into that hole in her life and maybe destroyed any chance she had of ever filling it with happiness again."

"Has she dated since then?"

"No, at least I'm pretty sure she hasn't. If she has, she kept it a secret. I think, Charlie, and this is the heart of the matter...maybe she's been so emotionally damaged she can't trust men again...or I should say, men because of Malcourt and the random cruelty of life because of Dad."

Charlie looked at Walt for a few seconds as if he were carefully crafting a question. "Does she trust you? ...as a man...I mean, as a man who will never hurt her in any way, who will always be there for her?"

"I think so. But you know, Malcourt might have been a great son to his mother. So maybe she could never be one-hundred percent sure."

"But trust is earned and you're well on the way if not already there."

"I know. What about Amy, do you think she's happy?"

"I don't think so. She always seems okay...and happy. But listening to you has made me think about it. I asked her once several years ago if she wanted to get married again. She looked at me with a strange look on her face like I had never seen before. I didn't understand what it was...but now I think it was some sort of pain she was trying to suppress. After a while she said maybe, but only if she met the right person."

"Does she date?"

"No. I can only remember her going out on a date once about three years ago. I asked her how it went and she rolled her eyes and said don't ask. She's shown no sign of interest in men since then."

"I know she thinks about sex...more than just thinks about it. Last year I was up late playing Call of Duty until about two in the morning. I started to go to the kitchen to get a snack and I tried to not make any noise because I didn't want to wake her up...but when I went by her door I heard a gasp, then another one and then a deep moan. They sounded muffled like she was trying to suppress the sound. Then they stopped for a few seconds...and I heard a buzzing sound—"

"Holy shit, you mean—"

"Yeah. I listened until all the moaning and buzzing stopped. While she was out grocery shopping the next day, I looked through her drawers and yup...a vibrator."

"So we know she hasn't given up on sex."

"I tell you...when I think about how she sounded having an orgasm...an intense orgasm, I get really—"

"You don't have to say it, I get it. Just imagining it makes me..." Walt's voice faded away and he shifted uncomfortably on the bench.

"Yeah, I know. Has Emily ever..."

"Not that I know of."

"Do you think she...you know..."

"I think she must, at least I hope so. I'd hate to think she has withered into spinsterhood."

"God, what a waste that would be," Charlie moaned, and then, with a grin on his face "We have to save her."

* * *

Emily pulled into the driveway and clicked the remote to open the garage door. God I'm glad this week is over," she thought as she waited for the door to roll up. "I need a glass of wine. It had been a grueling week of meetings, writing final reports, and making departmental plans for the fall semester.

Inside the house, she walked through the utility room and into the kitchen. Walt was sitting on a tall chair at the island with his laptop open in front of him. Emily was surprised to see an open bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon standing near him and a single empty wine glass.

"Hi, Mom," Walt said as he got up from the chair and came to her. "Tonight is for you," he said as he wrapped his arms around her in bear hug.

Emily put her arms around her son's neck. "For me?"

"Yes," he replied and stepped back. Taking her by the hand he led her to a chair at the island. "Sit down, have a glass of wine and relax." He filled the glass with wine and set it in front of her.

Emily smiled at him, picked up the glass and took a drink as Walt sat down next to her. "Thank you, sweetheart."

Walt smiled back. "You've been working so hard the last couple of weeks, Mom. I think you deserve some pampering."

"Oh?" said Emily, still smiling and already feeling the relaxing effects of the wine. "What sort of pampering do you have in mind?"

"Well, let's see. You're going to relax and enjoy yourself this weekend. Starting now and lasting until Monday morning, you aren't allowed to do any housework, cook any meals, run any errands, or do anything that doesn't qualify as a pursuit of relaxation or pleasure."

"Oh, Walt—"

"Don't even think about resisting. I am Borg to your Picard...resistance is futile." Emily looked at her son, her eyes beginning to feel moist. "I'm going to do all those things this weekend," he continued.

Emily leaned over and put her arms around him. "Thank you," she whispered in his ear and laid her head on his shoulder.

"And I'm taking you out to dinner tonight. We have a reservation at Laghetti's for seven thirty. Why don't you just relax until it's time to go...soak in a hot bath or something. Leave everything to me."

"Thank you for this," Emily said to Walt as she hugged him. "The food was wonderful. Laghetti's has to be the best Italian restaurant in the state." Stepping back she smiled at him. "The company wasn't bad either."

"No, it wasn't," Walt replied with a smile. "I have another surprise for you. Let's change out of these fancy clothes first. Meet you back here in a few minutes"

What's come over Walt? Emily mused as she changed into a pair of comfortable old jeans and a long-sleeved tee-shirt. Whatever it is, it's nice."

Walt was waiting in the kitchen when she came back downstairs. He refilled her wine glass and poured one for himself.

"To the best mother, woman, and professor in the state, if not this side of the continental divide," he said, clinking his glass to hers. "I love you, Mom, here's to you."

"I love you too...here's to us."

"Let's go out back," said Walt, "and I'll show you your surprise. Bring your wine."

They went through the sliding door to a small stone patio looking out over an extensive backyard with several beautiful shade trees. Walt took Emily's arm and led her toward a majestic American elm. Under its spreading branches was a beautiful wooden garden swing for two.

"It's a gift for you, Mom. I hope you like it."

"Oh honey, it's perfect."

"I had it delivered to Charlie's house and he helped me assemble it today. Amy promised not to tell you...and," he said grinning, "We added the cup holders and made sure your wine glasses would fit in them."

He led her to the swing and they sat down.

"I wanted to thank you, Mom, for...everything."

"Oh, Walt...you didn't need to do this."

Walt took her hand. "I did, Mom, I'm not sure I can adequately explain why." He paused for a few moments before continuing. "You've done so much for me, sacrificed so much...and you had to do it alone. The greatest husband and father in the world was ripped away from you... from us...leaving a massive hole in our lives...in our hearts. And you became both mother and father to a devastated eight year old boy and devoted yourself completely to caring for him... for me..." He paused. "And you got me through school and into adulthood in one piece."

"Walt, sweetheart, you needn't—"

"I do Mom...despite all the trauma and loss, you...we've endured, you've always devoted yourself completely to making a life for us, a good one. You brought us here, you found a job you love, we made good friends."

"Walt—"

"Mom, I need to finish saying this...I've grown up, I'm out of high school...I'm off to college soon. We're entering a new phase in our lives and I've been thinking about that a lot..." Walt squeezed her hand. "Mainly about you, Mom. I'll be away at college and you'll be alone."

"Walt, honey, you'll only be a couple of hours away."

"I know, and I'll come home a lot, most weekends probably. But..." Walt paused and tightened his grip on Emily's hand. "I want you to be happy Mom... and I worry about what your life is going to be like now."

"Oh, Walt—"

"Are you happy, Mom? I mean with your life?"

The unexpected question was like an arrow piercing the protective armor that had been in place for so long and Emily felt a rush of jumbled and conflicting emotions— love and fear, happiness and sorrow, and stirrings whose meanings she didn't fully understand. She realized that this night marked the end of Walt's childhood, and the end of...of what, she couldn't articulate. She looked at him and Walt saw distress in her eyes and tears forming. He took her hand.

"This summer's for you Mom. I want to spend all the time I can being with you, doing things together. I know there must be things you have always wanted to do, to experience, but haven't been able to." He squeezed her hand. "Let's do them together."

Emily returned his squeeze and gave him a little smile. "I'd love that."

They sat in silence for a while, looking at the stars and sipping wine.

"Thank you, honey...when did you become so grown up...and wise?"

"I think," Walt said, "a long time ago."

* * *

Amy sat at the picnic table under the trees behind the house reading a book and sipping from a large mug of black coffee. It was ten-thirty Saturday morning and she had only seen Charlie for a few moments when he had come downstairs for coffee. It was very unlike him to huddle in his room for long periods like this and she wondered what he was doing. She had almost decided to go and see when the patio door opened and Charlie emerged carrying his laptop.

"Hey, Mom, what're you doing?"