Dad texted. He was starting his virtual weekend early and asked us to delay dinner by an hour an a half.
Mom grinned, but I swear a tear formed in each of her eyes.
Nell cheered up quite a bit. I was the one suddenly shouldering a thick burden of self-loathing.
We spent the extra time turning a meal into a feast!
Dad entered six arms of hugging as he shuffled through the door. “Damn, what have you done with my wife and children? I promise not to tell anyone.” His sturdy frame and broad arms returned our welcome. “Pod people for the win!”
We feasted, yet conversation remained light. Work, weather, neighborhood gossip, school, and politics danced from lips to lips as we ate roasted pork, mashed potatoes, sautéed sliced squash and carrots, stir fried garlic noodles, homemade cream of mushroom soup, baked fish sticks, and tater tots with plenty of corn syrup free ketchup! There was no theme to our dinner, except for enthusiasm.
I joined in the banter as pleasantly as the others, yet something was missing. By no means are my family deep thinkers. We regularly gossiped and made lame jokes. I surreptitiously studied my father during the meal. He appeared somewhat confused, not at all his normal participation in a dinner’s discussion. He too sensed something was off.
Mom and Sis were as convivial as they were shallow. The missing piece struck me, when I forked the two inches of carrot that mother had forgotten to dice. I stared at the emasculated, sautéed root. Nobody was talking about sex!
I looked up, shocked. Before anyone noticed, I ducked my head down and stuffed the carrot into my gob. Our family may not be the raunchiest of storytellers, but any meal without one gut wrenching innuendo, was not a meal at our family table.
I spoke through half chewed food. “Dad, aren’t you going to miss out on fucking your secretary for the next two days?” I don’t think he had a secretary, and whatever office assistant performed those duties for him was probably a guy.
Mom and Sis paused their forks and spoons.
Dad heaved a breath inward. At last, someone had broken the evening’s virginity! “I invited her for a three-way tonight, after we put you children to bed, but she said she didn’t have the courage nor stamina to compete with your mother.”
Mom burst into laughter, a little too convincingly.
“That’s just lame, Craig. Daddy never cheats on Mommy, except with me.” Nell sounded more authentic.
“How’s the pork?” Mom blurted. “Not too bloody? It went in the oven, partially frozen.”
“Pork’s fine, Mom.” Nell caught on the possibility that there was something to catch onto. Her eyebrows knitted.
“Good.” She rose judiciously from her chair. “I’ll check on the pie in the oven. You all keep talking.”
Nell turned her inquiring gaze at me. It asked, what’s going on, Bro?
“What, Sis?” I play acted, my teeth still sawing the carrot. “Do you suspect Dad and I are getting it on behind your back?”
“Some say bisexuality is the ultimate form of love.” Dad carved into his bleeding cut of pork.
“Fine.” Nell abruptly pouted. “You can fuck Craig’s butt all you want, Daddy, but you can only make love to me and Mommy!”
“PIE’S READY!” Mom shouted as if we couldn’t hear her from fifteen feet away. I detected more than a little nervousness. “Do you hyaenas have any room in your bellies?”
“Sure!” I gulped down the carrot. It hit the mass of food queued up to my stomach. I figured I owed Mom some support.
“Rhubarb!?” Dad’s eyes lit up upon sniffing the air. “Start making another one, Hon. I’ll just be a minute purging into the toilet. Don’t you dare slice it up. I’m not sharing tonight.”
Nell wasn’t mollified, yet she didn’t want to rock our leaking lifeboat. “I guess I can have a small slice.”
The three of us still at the table, went into action. We carried our plates and the larger dishes to cover the countertops. I grabbed forks. Dad got out the pie server. Nell pulled out dessert plates. We returned to the table and reforged its purpose. Mom follow us, pie steaming in her oven mitts.
For half a second we were a Norman Rockwell painting on the cover of The Saturday Evening Post. No shit. I used to jack off to the ones that showed a mother and a son in the picture – another example of how fucked up I was.
Mother kept quiet as Dad cut and served slices. Nell elbowed my ribs but seemed more concerned about Dad. I did my best to keep the bullshit flowing. “You know, Dad, I’m a virgin down there. Be gentle with me.”
I think that was going to far for the most jocular of fathers. Still he accepted the remark in the silly context it was offered. “You mother’s the one who trained mine.”
“Stop it, you two!” Mom stood up and slammed her fists on the table!
“Mom?” Sis and I recoiled.
Dad acted. “Honey, what can I do? What’s wrong?”
Mom took a deep breath to calm herself. “Give me a minute, and I’ll tell you, Terrance.”
“I’ll strangle the children if you need peace.” Dad wasn’t sincere but was totally there for his wife.
Mom choked on a laugh. “You-” She ducked her head to hide a smile. “Sorry. This is serious, but I think they need to hear it too.” She rambled, “I wanted to collect my thoughts better before discussing this, Terrance, but I can’t repress these feelings any longer. None of you are at fault. It’s just that tonight’s conversation kept gnawing at my heart.”
“I’m listening.” Dad implied, on possible pain of death, that Nell and I would listen too, or else.
“I’m a fool, My Love.”
Dad was silent.
“You and I have had our bit of stray fun, in the past.” Mom studied her children. “By that I mean, your father and I occasionally have sex outside of our marriage.”
There was no way in all the hells, would Nell nor I divulge that we’d guessed their secret a couple years ago. Except, Nell figured our old man had enjoyed a few times in an unfamiliar sack. I was wrong thinking he was too loyal to Mom. Corrected, I felt a strange kind of awkwardness.
“I really wanted more time to decide how to say this, Husband.” She only called him that when she was about to give awful news. “And maybe I’ll change my mind. Either way, you deserve to know.”
“It won’t change my love for you.” Dad’s tone intimated to his children that we better fucking accept whatever our mother was about to divulge.
“I’m sure it won’t. It’s not anything worse than all we’ve overcome since we fell in love.” She decidedly revealed, “I’m going to start having regular hook-ups with another man.” She bit each word of that last sentence. “Never ask who. I swear my love for you will never languish, and I will be as eager to bed you as always, if not more eager. You talk to me, now, Terrance.”
Dad needed a minute too. He didn’t single me out but scrutinized Nell and I. He was making sure that we weren’t going to fly into hysterics. I suspect Nell was too shocked to go nuts. Not about mom’s announcement of infidelity. Nell couldn’t have cared less about that. What shocked her, probably, was that her mother was actually confessing right in front of her. Nell’s perspective of their battle-hardened respect for each other, while arguing about everything, couldn’t handle that much forthrightness.
“The result is not in the saying, Carona. It’s in the doing.” Dad told her.
“I’ll do my best.” Mom stood crying. “I’ll make mistakes.”
“Love is for freeing people, not binding them.”
Okay, that’s a bit corny, even for my old man. I’m sure that was the best he could come up with, having to struggle with serious, internal emotions while openly supporting his soul mate.
“Fuck off.” Mom sniffled.
“No.” Dad refused. “I’m going to eat pie, and then I’m going to take you into our room and eat more.”
“Daddy! Your turning my ears red!” Nell had nothing. We ignored her.
I was speechless.
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