The Mistake Pt. 03

Her subterfuge was clever but ultimately ineffective. A moment later we both heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps on the stairs outside.

"Sorry baby," she whispered at the same time as I let out yet another sound of frustration, stifled this time.

"It's not your fault," I whispered before slipping out of her.

We had just enough time to finish up. She slipped on a pair of skimpy panties under the nightgown while I stepped into the closet, sliding the mirror doors almost all the way shut, leaving only a tiny crack. She had just sat down in front of the make up mirror when he entered the room.

"Oh hey honey," she said, glancing his way while pulling a brush through her hair. "How was work?"

I could see his eyes light up when he saw what she was wearing.

"Slow," he said, walking towards her. "But that's not unusual for a Saturday. Just had to check on few things Sam had issues with. Been hectic lately, what with the acquisition and everything."

He mustn't have done a very good job of 'checking on the things', as he put it. If he had he would've stayed a lot longer trying to sort them out. Oh but it's just a simple computer error. Yes, simple but devastating, putting a halt to almost every operation if it was still there on Monday. Sloppy. Lucky for him I could fix it in less than a minute, seeing as I was the one who had caused it.

"I hope it's not too stressful," she said, switching hand to brush the other said of her head.

"Nah," he said, coming up behind her. Placing his hands on her shoulder he added, "It's exciting times really. If this acquisition goes smooth we're really gonna put our mark on the map. I wouldn't be surprised if we tripled our turnover in the next quarter."

"That's great honey," she said and brushed his hands away. "Please don't mess my hair up. It's taken hours to get this far."

"Sorry," he said, contenting himself with checking her out in the mirror. "When are you going out?"

"In a few hours," she answered, picking up an eyeliner. "Taking the car to Lucy's then we're going from there. It's been forever since we had a girls night out and I want to look my best."

"Maybe I should give Brad a call," he said, stroking his blond goatee. "Maybe he wants to catch the game tonight."

"Ah," she said, freezing, obviously panicking. "I don't... think that's a good idea. Lucy said he's visiting his parents. Something about his dad and another stroke."

Quick thinker, my mom. Sexy as hell.

"Really?" he said, appearing surprised. "That's horrible. I hope everything is alright."

"I think so," she said. "But I'll definitely ask her later. Better to give him some space for now though."

"Yeah... yeah," he said, nodding. "Poor Brad. His dad almost didn't make it last time."

"Mmm," she said, applying lipstick.

"You look really nice though," he said, letting his hands slip around to her front, catching a breast in each. "Do you think... maybe we could..."

"Please honey," she said, shrugging him off. "I don't want to redo all my work."

"Awww, come on," he pushed. "It's been so long since the last time. I could make it quick."

Oh he did not just say that. What a tool. Sorry dad, that was horrible.

She let out a sigh, almost certainly mirroring my thoughts.

"Then I'm going to have to take another shower," she stalled. "And then redo my hair... and makeup..."

"There's still a few hours before you need to go. You'll have time," he said, pressing his advantage. It was the tactical thing to do when the opponent was hesitating. He had taught me this. Still, disgraceful.

She sighed and let her shoulders slump. A moment later she stood up and turned around. He already had a smirk of victory on his lips.

"I'm not redoing all this," she said. "But fine. I'll help you out. Pull down your pants."

For some reason he got really excited about that, quickly moving to comply with her request. "Oh baby, are you going to-"

"No," she said and walked behind him. "I don't do that, remember? This'll have to do." She reached around him and while I couldn't see from my angle I assumed she grabbed his dick. The gasp he let out sure was a good indication.

What followed was... well there's really only one word to describe it. Pathetic, or maybe pitiful. The rapid squishing sounds that reverberated in the room was punctured by the occasional gasp or grunt emitted by him. As expected it didn't take long. I wasn't keeping time or anything but it couldn't have been more than two minutes before his breathing became frantic and he had to grip the chair to steady himself.

"I don't want a mess," she said. "Catch it."

A moment later he let out a long and loud sigh, obviously reaching his end. I couldn't see if he did as she asked but his free hand was indeed hidden in front of him.

"Good job honey," she said, sounding happy. So he had caught it, then. "This was nice. Now I need to get back to getting ready though. Please don't drip anything."

He panted but nodded. "Yeah... yeah... thanks honey. I love you."

"That's sweet," she said, retaking her seat at the mirror. "Sam said he would pick me up tonight so I won't need you to do it. You can have a beer if you want to."

"Really? That's great. Watching a game is always better with a cold one or two," he said, making his way towards the door, using both his hands not to 'spill'. "He's such a good kid. I think he's met a girl, by the way."

"Really?" she asked, genuine surprise in her voice. "Who? Do we know her?"

"I dunno," he said, pausing at the door. "But he's been daydreaming a lot at work lately. That's usually a surefire sign of a girl being involved. Or hey, maybe it's a guy. Wouldn't surprise me to be honest."

Really, dad?

She let out a laugh at that. "Yeah maybe," she said, turning back to the mirror. "But go away now. I need to focus. Oh and close the door behind you, will ya."

"Alright honey," he said. "Have fun tonight."

Oh trust me, she will.

As soon as the door clicked shut I slid open the closet door and stepped out. She remained by the mirror, now holding a mascara stick and keeping her head steady and left eye wide as she stroked her lashes.

I went right over to her, letting my fingers slide into her silky smooth red hair, entangling them, lightly pulling and smelling, making sure I messed it up real good. It was petty I knew, doing that. But it was something he had been denied, scolded for even trying. I, however, was allowed, and indeed, didn't even ask for permission. She leaned into my touch, closed her eyes and let out a low hum.

Again, petty, but I didn't care. It was the only way I could think of to, so to speak — mark my territory. Because she was mine. No one else's. Mine.

"Mmmm... Gay, huh?" she spoke, enjoying my impromptu scalp massage. "When were you going to tell me?"

"Must've slipped my mind," I said, digging my nose into her hair, inhaling her scent. "His name is Steffan and he makes an absolutely fab Crab Rangoon. It is truly out of this world. You mad?"

"Naah," she said, grinning but still keeping her eyes closed. "I've always wanted a gay friend so this works out well."

"Mmmsorry," I said. "He's sort of the jealous type. I think I have to break up with him."

"Aww, who's going to go shoe shopping with me now?"

I couldn't resist a chuckle into her hair. "You do not need more shoes." And wasn't that true? Half of the closet was designated to the damned things.

"I always need more shoes," she said, reaching around behind her, quickly finding my semi hard dick, stroking it gently. "And actually, I think you're going to buy me a pair tonight."

"Whatever the lady desires," I said, meeting her strokes ever so slightly. "But only if I can pick them out myself. And you have to wear them all night. Even when... Actually, they don't come off until I say so period."

"Fine," she said, leaning her head sideways to give me access to her neck. "But no glittery ones, okay? I hate glitter."

I nipped her earlobe before saying, "Deal. Now get back on the bed. I'm not done with you yet."

"That's where you're wrong baby," she said but did indeed stand up, not releasing my dick as she did. "I'm the one not done with you."

"Semantics," I said with a grin.

She let out a surprised squeal when I grabbed her and threw her onto the bed. A moment later I was on top of her, pawing at her body and waging war on her lips. I would've liked to have bent her over and taken her from behind like before but with dad home this was the safer alternative. It would let me muffle her cries and moans with my own mouth, which, from experience, I knew definitely would be needed.

I ended up filling her up twice before her thirst was quenched. It would be back before long without a doubt and while I wouldn't have minded going for a third she did have to get ready. I had decided to take her out on what I suppose could be considered a date and had told her I wanted her to look her best.

It wasn't entirely without risk, being seen together in public like that, but it also wasn't something I was overly worried about. At a glance we didn't look like mother and son more than dad and she did. If we did run into someone who knew us then who's to say a mother and a son couldn't share a meal together in a nice restaurant? I even had a plan ready if news somehow got back to dad, unlikely as it was, involving her friends ditching her and not wanting to waste the evening.

Sure, it was a plausible story but only barely. He would believe it though because I was pretty damn good at making a story believable. Again, he was the one who had taught me this.

She did end up needing that shower anyway but she didn't mind. Not for me.

-o-o-o-o-o-

"Why did you have to choose the absolutely tallest ones you could find?" she asked, frustrated and a bit annoyed as she steadied herself against me for the umpteenth time.

For my part I just enjoyed it, watching her struggle. She had walked in heels before but it wasn't something she regularly did, especially not in stiletto heels. Shiny red ones, that had been the color I picked, matching her dress perfectly. They had been a bit expensive but nothing I couldn't afford. She was worth it and so much more.

"I saw a few taller ones," I said, keeping her steady with my arm while I guided her to the table. The restaurant was packed but I had made reservations well in advance. She let out a sigh of relief when I sat her down.

"Can't believe people walk around in these on a daily basis," she said, reaching down to massage her ankle.

I shrugged and sat down on the other side of the small table. "We can return them if you don't want them."

"No!" she said, looking almost offended at the idea. "I've never owned a pair of Jimmy Choo's before. Surprised you even knew what they were."

"I didn't," I said, leaning over to glance down at them. Explained why they were so expensive, then. Not that I knew anything about brands and such. "I just liked the way the looked on you."

"Well," she said. "Suppose you got pretty good taste in shoes then. You sure you're not gay?"

I gave her a grin and a not so innocent stare, letting my eyes wander over her body. The dress was perfect, short and strapless, with a small v cut at her chest, showing ample cleavage. Not too much, but just enough to not be called modest.

"I'm positive," I said, not meeting her eyes, my eyes locked a good foot lower.

"Hey hey," she said, snapping her fingers in front of her chest. In a low voice she added, "We shouldn't... not here. People can see."

She had a point. Still, didn't mean I couldn't enjoy the view. I just had to be a little subtle about it.

"Fine fine," I said, giving her a smirk as I raised my eyes to hers. "I'll behave. For now."

It was just in time too as the waiter arrived not a moment later. After about five minutes I was sure the guy was almost at his wits end. Mom kept asking very specific and very detailed questions about the food. When she began inquiring about the fourth dish I was sure the guy would end up walking away from us. He didn't though, remaining patient and professional. It wasn't anything new, she had always done this whenever we went to restaurants. I suppose she's where Claire got her interest in food from.

I did end up ordering in wine for the both of us. Even though I would be driving it wouldn't be for quite a few hours. I suspected that by then the alcohol would have worked its way through my system. Or rather, I would have worked it through my system.

All in all the dinner turned out very pleasant. We talked mostly about regular stuff, things that had nothing to do with our newfound closeness. It was nice, just being regular people talking to one another. A mother talking to her son, a man talking to a woman, family having a dinner, close friends sharing a meal. It almost felt normal.

But things were different. And I could feel it. We both could. There was this underlying feeling, scratching just under the surface. Restrained excitement, a thrilling buzz. We both knew the cause of this feeling. A secret, ours and ours alone. A treasure, hidden and protected by our desire to keep it that way, to keep our world from crumbling.

But as always, reality had a nasty habit of encroaching on situations where it wasn't wanted. This time though it wasn't another nasty interruption, another stick in the wheels, but a statement, short and direct. The dinner was drawing close to its end when she grew uncharacteristically quiet. It was jarring as she had been all laughs and great conversation until then.

"We should talk," she said, way more serious than she had been in weeks.

I knew what it was about, had expected it for some time. It was still a bitter pill to swallow, having to bite the bullet. Ignorance truly was bliss, sometimes. The same couldn't be said for willful ignorance.

I took a sip of wine and nodded, drawing in a deep sigh. "I suppose we should."

"What are we doing Sam?" she asked, her green eyes staring into me, a turmoil of emotions in there. "Don't get me wrong. This is hard to admit but I haven't been this happy since... a long time. But what is the purpose of... this? What is the end game?"

I slowly nodded, staring down into my wine, swirling it around. That was the crux of it, wasn't it? What did the future look like? What did we want it to look like? Most importantly, did it differ? Did I even know what I wanted? Yes, to a degree. Did voicing those desires cheapen them? Could I even do that? Take them from this wonderful place in my mind where anything was possible and shove them into reality where rules and social constructions would batter them to a million pieces?

It wasn't fair. None of it was.

"I think..." I said but trailed off. Exactly what did I think? "I think that's a difficult thing to answer."

She nodded, realizing very well what I was trying to say. She understood me like few ever could.

"I hate it," she said. "The sneaking around. The lying. The destruction the truth would cause if it came out."

Yeah. Our secret was ours, yes, but it was also a nuclear bomb. The chance of everyone involved surviving if it went off was tiny, minuscule even. Best case scenario was that all three of us, me, her and dad, all remained where we were, our connections strong enough to survive something like this.

A more realistic scenario was that one or more of us would crumble and run, our connections irreversibly damaged. Worst case involved all three of us going our separate ways. I purposefully didn't include Claire because... Claire was Claire. It was impossible to know what she would do and think even on a regular day to day basis. Besides, she had her own, arguably worse shit to deal with.

"How long can this fantasy go on?" she continued when I didn't say anything. "Are we just fooling ourselves into thinking that something like this could work?"

"I want to believe it could work," I said, letting a small portion of my protected desires slip into reality, to test the waters.

She gave me a sad smile, reaching out to place her hand over mine on the table. "But is believing enough? Your dad..." she stopped and shook her head. "Danny, he's not a bad man. What we're doing to him... it's eating me up inside."

I nodded, knowing exactly how she was feeling. I felt it too, like I was sleeping with my best friends wife only way, way, worse.

"So what do you want to do then?" I asked. "Go back to normal, pretend like nothing's happened?" It hurt to even ask the question, but it had to be asked.

She shook her head and squeezed my hand. "I already tried that, remember? I couldn't back then and I definitely can't now," she said. "But the lying... the hurting... I don't know how long I can continue with that."

I nodded slowly. There wasn't many options, then. Or one fewer than before at least.

"I love both you and your sister, that's never going to change," she continued. "But if anything this mess has made me realize is that I'm not happy where I am. This is... even harder for me to admit. Mostly because, I think, I haven't admitted it to myself until now. Danny and I... we haven't... there hasn't been anything even remotely resembling a spark between us for a very long time."

She shook her head and hid her face behind her hands. "And I shouldn't even be talking about this with you. Or I should... because now we're... but you're still my... ugh!" She let out a sound of frustration.

"Mom," I said, reaching across the table to pull her hands away from her face. She let me and I held both of them in mine. "I'm still your son. That is never going to change and let's face it, it can't be changed. I'm always going to be here for you whether you like it or not. Because that's what family do."

"But family doesn't do what we do," she said, low, barely audible, just enough for me to hear.

"We can be more than that. More than just family," I said.

She shook her head, staring down at her empty plate. "People wouldn't... no one would understand."

"Fuck 'em. Fuck all of 'em," I said. Damn Claire, rubbing off on me. "No one who doesn't know us would be able to tell just by looking at us, and those who do know us? Well it's not like we have to advertise it or anything. If it happens it happens. The rest can fuck off for all I care."

A huff of amusement left her and she peered up at me, giving me a small smile. "Sounds almost easy, the way you put it."

"And why shouldn't it be?" I said, mirroring her smile. "I think Claire would put it better than either of us. It is what it is."

"Oh god Claire..." she said, drawing in a deep breath and letting it back out slow. "What would she think..."

Well I suppose there wasn't much point in keeping it from her. And it wasn't like I had kept it from her before either. It was more the fact that I hadn't thought about bringing it up. To me it seemed unimportant. Again, Claire was Claire.

"She already knows," I said, tightening my grip on her hands just before she tried to pull them back, her eyes going wide.

"You told her?" she all but hissed.

I quickly shook my head. "Calm down. No I didn't tell her. She heard us, back in the RV."

"Oh god..." she groaned, yanking one hand free from my grip, snatching up her wine glass and downing the rest of it in one go. "I'm the worst mother in the world..."

"Hardly," I said, the corners of my lips quirking. "And don't worry about Claire. I mean, has she acted any different towards you since then? She doesn't care mom."

"She should," she said, making a grimace as the alcohol probably burned, reaching out and snatching up my wineglass, its contents going the same way as her own.

"You can get drunk if you think that helps," I said, refilling her own glass, emptying the bottle. "But seriously mom. Claire... she's the least of our problems. Trust me."