She took it just about as
terribly as I thought she would. I had valiantly attempted
to alter my consciousness in some way before we made the
announcement to Ned and Irene, but he wouldn't hear of it.
Which was cute, in a way, but also not. So here we
were, sitting on the couch in their living room, having shifted
positions from being knee to knee to pressed against the extreme
ends of the couch. Irene was standing, droning on in the
same angry tone she'd been using for about half an hour now.
Ned had left the room after quickly registering his outrage
and objection to our revelation.
We had figured, or I had, that Ned wouldn't really be that upset;
shocked, at first, but not in the disowning/killing mood.
Finally, Irene stopped sputtering and said, "Carey, go
talk to your father in the kitchen. I need to speak to
Molly privately now." Without so much as a glance in
my direction, he fled the room with his head lowered. I
almost smiled.
Then she turned on me. "What the fuck, Molly?"
"I... it's not like we entered into this with the specific
intention of hurting you. It wasn't until later that I
started weighing the consequences. And eventually we came
to the conclusion that it was worth this."
"'It'?" she laughed mirthlessly.
"You know, us." I fidgeted, still uncomfortable
with that idea, using that term to describe whatever it was that
Carey and I had at the moment.
She just stared at me and paced
around the room for a moment. Then she seemed to calm down
and sat in the position her son had recently vacated.
"Look, I think it's great that you're finally in a
position to move on. It's been nearly fifteen years.
But Jesus Christ, what the hell are you doing?"
"I'm not the--" I tried to interject defensively, but
she wasn't having it.
"If it were any other kid, I would be supportive, you know?
But it isn't just some kid. It's my kid, who you've
known since birth. You've watched him grow up playing with
your own kids. How can you do this?"
"I... I just..."
"It's completely perverted and disgusting to even think of
what has gone on between you. You're not just victimizing
him here, either. How can you do this to me?
After everything Ned and I have done for--"
Angry, now: "Wait, wait, wait. Victimizing? What
am I, some kind of... well, I don't know. But I'm still the
same person, Irene. I haven't changed. This wasn't
planned. It just happened. It wasn't my idea.
But I'm glad that it did happen. And if you--if... I
don't want to ask you to accept it, because if it was something
similar with Jack and somebody I know I never could. I
guess I... I don't know."
She sighed and avoided my stare for a minute, then spoke up a
little hesitantly, a new strategy clearly dawning.
"Look, no offense, Molly, but you're... you're kind
of... damaged, you know? Carey's just a kid. He
deserves some fresh-faced college girl with ambitions and hopes
and dreams and the whole first love experience, not a woman old
enough to be his mother who's also, you know... somewhat fucked
up. Isn't that what you want for Jack?" She
threw an innocent, searching gaze at me.
Fuck. Irene should have been a lawyer. She's the best
debater I've ever seen. She knows how to keep punching
until she's got you in a corner and on the defense, and then she
knows how to go straight for the kill. And I'm down for the
count.
She continued, pragmatically: "I don't want to forbid him
from seeing you anymore, or you from seeing him, because then you
can't work together, and you do work well together musically.
So I think it should be you who ends it. Because,
really, isn't that the only thing you can do? Just
acknowledge that it was a brief sex thing, you've had your fun
playing Mrs. Robinson, and both of you can move forward."
"It wasn't, though," I whispered.
"Wasn't what?"
"Just a sex thing."
"What are you calling it, then?" she asked, her voice
hardening. Clearly it was time to start catching the fly
with vinegar instead of honey.
"It's much more serious than that."
"What, you think it's love?" Another scary angry
chuckle. "Good Lord, Molly, I really would expect more
of you."
The fidgeting was fast and furious now. I had nearly rubbed
a hole in my sleeve with the itchy desire to get control of
something, anything. "I... I'll leave. You're
right." She wasn't, but I had to get out of there.
I would have said anything just to get out of the ring
before another verbal death blow. I got up and started
backing toward the door. "I'm sorry. You're
right. It was just a thing, something we did. I'm
sorry. We should never even have told you about it.
It was really inconsequential. I'm... I'm going to
leave now. I'm sorry."
She just smiled at me with the glow of success illuminating her
bared teeth. "It's okay, it's okay. Everyone has
their moment of weakness. I understand. I'll have a
talk with him and everything will go back to normal."
"Okay." Finally outside, I broke into a run for
the car, slamming the door behind me. I heard it bang open
again as I pulled the car door closed and started the engine.
"Don't do it, Molly." His shouted words echoed
through the darkness. I accelerated to drown them out and
left him there, shrinking in the rearview mirror.
