Immortal Gift of Beauty Ch. 04

"I see," she said coldly.

"Be careful, Mom," I warned her. "You asked to talk to me, remember? I asked you to leave once. Don't make me do it again. You have something you wanted to say. I want to hear it."

I sat quietly, on the other end of the couch, looking at her. She was staring off into space, clearly trying to find the words. At last, she turned. When she saw me watching her, she smiled weakly, and looked down.

"I miss you," she said softly. A tear ran down her cheek. "I miss my baby."

"I miss you, too," I replied. I didn't like seeing her upset. I knew it was me that upset her, but I wasn't about to capitulate, merely to make her happy. There had to be a way to talk things out. At least, I hoped there was.

"Come home, please?" she asked.

"I don't think that's going to happen, Mom," I told her. "I'm happy here. We're happy here. I'd like very much to be welcome, again, but I don't see moving back home as a likely outcome."

"You don't need us anymore? You don't love us anymore?" Mom sniffed, wiping her eyes.

"Don't be ridiculous, Mom. Of course, I still love you. I have grown up, however, so I don't suppose I do need you as much as I once did. You've done your job. I'm not a little boy anymore," I smiled. "You'll always be my Mom."

"Yes. Always," she repeated.

We sat for over a minute in silence. Clearly, there was much more to say, but she was having trouble saying it. I ventured forth.

"Mom, if I had a girlfriend, who was, oh, let's say twenty years old, and we wanted to be together, would you be this upset?" I asked.

"Oh no, you don't," she answered. "You're trying to get me to admit I have a problem with Mrs. Castellanos because of her age."

"Indulge me, please?" I added. "Hypothetically, if I had a girlfriend, older than me, by just a year or two, and we were having sex, and in love, and wanted to be together... What would you say?"

"Fine. You want an answer?" she replied, verging on anger. "I'd say you were too young. You can't even know what love is yet. Sex is one thing, but love is another."

"Yes, I'm just a stupid kid," I shook my head. "I can't possibly know what love is like... but I can add, just fine. Sharon is nineteen. I'm eighteen. You're thirty-nine, just a few months ago. It seems to me that you were not much older than me when you got married to Dad, and had Sharon within a year. Correct me if I'm wrong here. How can you be upset with me for doing the same thing you did? Unless you feel Dad was a mistake? Were Sharon and I mistakes, too?"

"I don't care for your insinuation, young man," Mom said sharply. "Of course, your father was not a mistake, and neither was having children. I just feel like you need more time."

"Is this knowledge of experience something that arrives by magic, or is it delivered?" I asked. "Should I be watching for the UPS driver?"

"Sarcasm is disrespectful," Mom reminded me.

"I'm just not sure I see the difference between what you did, and my situation," I told her. "If you're honestly not concerned about the age of my girlfriend, then the situation is the same. Did Grandma kick you out of the house, too?"

Several seconds of silence followed. I could see her chewing on her response, trying to maintain her earlier assertions that age wasn't the issue. At last, she had to admit it.

"Alright, so let's say age does have something to do with it," she relented.

"So, if I was having sex with Marina, that would be fine?" I prodded.

"What? You're fucking her, too?" Mom gasped, standing and staring at me in horror. "How could you do that to Mrs. Castellanos?"

"I'm not," I laughed. "I just wanted you to see there were worse things I could be doing. I love Brosie. I'd never cheat on her."

Mom sat again, fixing me with a cold stare.

"She's too old for you," she finally voiced. "If a woman has a child of your age, then she's too old for you."

"I see," I nodded. "So, how many years apart is permissible? Is there a formula?"

"Please, can we do this without the sarcasm?" she sighed, tilting her head back and closing her eyes. "It's hard enough to get through this. I'm trying to explain why we're upset."

"And I'm just pointing out that your stance on this appears to be very arbitrary," I replied. "Surely something as difficult to define as love must deserve some leeway."

"She's old enough to be your mother," Mom retorted, tiredly. "That's a lot of leeway."

"Yes, but she's not my mother," I countered. "You're my mother. This world is full of women who are not my mother. I only love one of them."

There was another pause, this one longer and more intense. At last, she spoke.

"You really do love her, don't you?" she asked, softly. "This is not just sex. You've given this some thought? What are you going to feel in ten years, or twenty?"

"You don't really expect me to answer that, do you?" I scoffed. "Can you answer those questions? Can anyone? How can anyone know what ten or twenty years will do to their feelings? All we can say for sure is how we feel right now, and I know that I love her, and I'm committed to her. We've talked about this. We know there will be changes, and we'll deal with them as they come."

"In twenty years, Mrs. Castellanos will be an old woman. I wonder if you'll be so interested in her body when those breasts are hanging down to her knees," Mom sneered.

"Mom? Really? Meow!" I laughed.

"That was a little catty, wasn't it?" she giggled, and hung her head. "Honey, I hope you know that I'm not saying I don't trust you."

"Just my judgement," I continued.

"This is a big change for me," she explained. "It seems like just yesterday I was changing your diapers, and now, you're having sex with a woman who could be my sister."

"Your slightly older sister, actually," I jabbed.

"Oh god!" she moaned, resting her head in her hands in exasperation. "I'm not going to win this, am I?"

"It's not a contest, but I don't suppose you will get the result I know you want," I said, rubbing her back. "I'm not going to change my mind about Brosie. If you want me to be a part of your life, you're going to have to accept that. The heart wants..."

"... What the heart wants," she completed the cliché. "Yeah, I've heard that. I might have even said it, myself. I'm not sure acceptance is going to happen, but I think I can learn to live with it. I also think I owe you an apology."

"No, you don't. I know your motives are pure," I smiled, "but you might want to apologize to Brosie. You were pretty hard on her. Your words hurt."

"I know. I didn't mean to," Mom acknowledged.

"Yes, you did," I corrected. "Those were angry words, meant to injure. I know you wouldn't normally do that. I know it was just an emotional response, but that doesn't excuse them."

Mom looked at me, examining me closer.

"Maybe you have grown up, more than I thought," she smiled weakly. "That's a very mature observation."

"You taught me well," I nodded.

Before Mom could say anything further, the front door opened, and in walked both Castellanos women, giggling amongst themselves. The laughter stopped when they saw my mother sitting on the couch beside me.

"Hi, honey," I chirped, smiling at my brunette bombshell.

"Darling," she returned, her eyes sparkling. Those eyes took in my mother's presence without changing expression.

"Get anything for me?" I asked, halfway across the room, on my way into her arms.

"Absolutely," she smiled back, wagging the small pink bag at me. She put it aside, then kissed me softly. "I'll show you later. Hello, Carol."

Mom looked up at me, then stood.

"My turn to act like an adult," Mom said, and stepped over to stop in front of us. "Ambrosia... Henry and I have been talking. He's helped me see that I owe you an apology. While I may have difficulty with this situation, Henry is an adult, and can make his own choices. My behaviour has been inexcusable, and I hope you'll accept my sincere regret for my insult. I was upset, and lashed out... "

Mom's apology was cut short when Brosie wrapped her in a warm hug. It took a few seconds for Mom to reciprocate, and the two women held each other in silence that said more than a thousand words could convey.

"I'm sorry," Mom sniffed, feeling the emotions well up.

"I know, and I understand," Brosie said softly. "Thank you."

"You'll take good care of my baby?" Mom whispered.

"Always," Brosie replied. "We'll take good care of each other."

Again, they hugged, and Brosie said something that I didn't hear. Mom nodded, and the two of them walked slowly out to the pool deck.

"Hank? Could you bring us both something cool to drink," Brosie asked me, quietly. "Your mother and I are going to talk for a few minutes."

"Sure," I nodded, and peeled off into the kitchen. By the time I made it out to the pool, Mom and Brosie were deep in conversation, and it was surprisingly civil, given the last time they spoke.

"Here you go," I smiled, placing the tray on the table where they were sitting, under the sun umbrella. "Iced tea for two, and I brought you some upgrades, if you wish to make them a bit stronger. You've got some gin, vodka and rum."

"My goodness!" Brosie laughed. "Such initiative! The service at this bar is so good, and the servers are so cute. I won't forget this, when it's tip time!"

Mom laughed, a bit uneasy at the innuendo being offered by my lover. Still, she wasn't angry, and I left the two of them to their conversation. When I reached the house, I turned, and saw Brosie adding some rum to her drink, then Mom's as well.

I don't want to give the impression that I was standing at the window, watching them while they talked, but curiosity and concern had me checking on them frequently. I was happy to see them talking freely, and ecstatic to see smiles on both their faces. It would seem that Mom was honest in her apology, and beginning to find acceptance in her heart.

After the better part of an hour, I stepped out onto the deck again, and Brosie saw me. She smiled.

"Woo hoo? Waiter?" Brosie giggled, fluttering her fingertips at me. She also blew me a flirty kiss. "We'd like some more, please."

"Yes. More," Mom snickered.

"Of course, Madame," I laughed, playing along. Their glasses were empty, on the table, beside the empty pitcher. On the tray sat three empty bottles. I did the math in my head.

Holy shit! They're wasted?! All the booze is gone, along with the iced tea.

I had noticed that every time I saw them, they were topping up their drinks from the bottles first, and the pitcher second. I imagine the drinks just kept getting stronger and stronger, until they were both blitzed.

When I returned with more tea, Mom spoke up.

"Hey, waiter, where's the rum?" she slurred.

"I think you've both had enough rum for today," I laughed, wagging a finger at them.

"Great. Nowhe makes a responsible judgement!" Mom replied, shrugging her shoulders.

"Hey! I thought we had an agreement?" Brosie said, pouting her pretty lips.

"Oh, yes, of course we do," Mom nodded, patting Brosie's knee. "I was just making an observation. You know... I don't usually imagine my son having sex... It's just not something a mother does."

"Agreed," Brosie smiled. "I have a hard time thinking about Marina with guys."

"Yes, thanks for reminding me that Sharon is sexually active as well," Mom sighed. "My children aren't children anymore."

"No, they're not," Brosie purred. "This wonderful, strong young man is definitely not a little boy, anymore."

"If you're going to say things like that, Ambrosia," Mom added, "I'm going to need more alcohol. I'm pretty sure I'm not drunk enough to handle it."

"Maybe not," I stepped in, "but you're certainly too drunk to drive. Come on, Mom. I'll take you home, before things get out of hand."

"If you take her home, how will you get back?" Brosie asked. She was at least as intoxicated as my Mother. "You have to come back. I've got new lingerie to show you, and it doesn't cover much. You don't want me to catch a cold, do you? I'll need you to keep me warm."

"I'll talk to Marina, and ask her to pick me up," I suggested.

"Hmmmm," she giggled, standing unsteadily. "Yes. That would be better. I can't possibly drive."

"Just go put on that lingerie, and wait for me in the bedroom," I smiled. "I'll be back before you know it."

***

It had taken a few minutes to get Mom into the car. Now, we were almost halfway to her home, and she still hadn't said anything.

"You're being awfully quiet," I said, glancing at her out of the corner of my eye. "I usually have a hard time getting a word in edgewise."

"There's really nothing more to say," Mom replied, softly. "I'm sorry. I know that we hurt you, and I know we hurt Ambrosia. I can see now that you care about her, and if we care about you, we should accept that."

"I appreciate that," I smiled. "I also appreciate that you apologized to Brosie. It means a lot that you took responsibility for what you said."

"I apologize for what we both said," she added, touching my shoulder.

"Mom, I know you and Dad speak for each other in most things," I shook my head, "but in this case, I think he needs to take ownership of his own insulting words. This is one time you can really only speak for yourself."

"I suppose you're right," she nodded. "I'll talk to your Father, and see if I can get through to him, but you know he's pretty stubborn. It may take a while. I can't make any promises."

"I wouldn't expect you to," I allowed. "All you can do is try. The rest is up to him."

***

"You know, I still find this whole thing more than a little weird," Marina said.

She had picked me up about two minutes after I helped Mom through the door, just long enough for my Father to glare out the living room window at me. I waved to him as I got into the passenger seat of Marina's car.

"I think I'm going to regret asking this," I laughed, "but what do you mean by weird?" I know it was a stupid question, but I felt like talking.

"You mean besides the obvious? The part where you're younger than me, but sleeping with my Mother?" she gestured.

"Yes," I smiled. "Besides that part."

"Well, other than that," she giggled, "it's perfectly normal. Nothing unusual at all. But, there is one thing I thought you should know."

"What's that?" I asked, suddenly interested.

"Despite the unorthodox way I found out about you and my Mother," she explained, referencing our nude dancing party in the kitchen, "I find myself liking you. You make my Mother happy. She deserves to be happy."

"Thanks, Marina," I nodded, but couldn't resist getting a shot in. "Maybe sometime, your Mother and me can join you and your boyfriend, on a date?" I suggested, in jest.

"Um, thanks, but no," she replied. "That would bring the weird to new heights."

We arrived at home, and parked in the driveway. We were both still joking and laughing when we walked in the front door.

"Oh, thank goodness!" Brosie called down from her position overlooking the living room. "I was beginning to get worried. Are you coming to bed, honey?"

She was wearing... well, it was a dress, of sorts, and she was right when she said it didn't cover much. Red, it was a lattice of lace panels, and skin tight. The panels that were a tighter, but still see through, weave, were bordered and connected by areas of interwoven, wide open bands. One of those open panels ran from her navel upwards, widening as it passed over the fabulous curves of her breasts. I could see her areolas through the weave, and up what passed for her skirt.

I glanced at Marina, who was gawking, as open-mouthed as I was.

"Well?" Marina said softly. "Nothing unusual about that, right?"

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I'm sure there's more to come for Hank and Brosie, but that's up to you. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

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