Accident Prone

Michael had to think for a moment how old she was. The night she spoke of was almost 19 years ago. They'd married when she was three months pregnant and she'd delivered Michael a few months after her 16th birthday. Michael was two years old and his mother 18 before they lived together as man and wife, and even then, help was needed paying the rent and putting food on the table while Jack attended school and Rachel worked part time at Walmart. She never got a degree and had lucked into the job she'd spent her entire adult life mastering. Even so, it wasn't enough for her and two kids; Jack carried them with monthly support payments. Michael had to give him that; his dad was no welsh.

"My opinion is yes," Michael said grudgingly. "Just go slow and make sure this is in your best interest."

She nodded, and then pecked him on the lips again as she'd done that afternoon two months ago. "I have to tell you something. And don't blow me off and make like it's no big deal because it is." She took a steadying breath. "Since your dad left, you've been the man of the household. It hasn't escaped me how much you've put in, keeping this house stable for your sister and me. I haven't said anything because this was a matter of pride with you and I understood that. I've been really proud of you, both as a mother, and as a woman. And there is a difference, Michael." She took another deep breath. "I think we both know how close it came to something bad happening that Saturday afternoon." She waited for some reaction from Michael and he finally nodded. "You took complete control of the situation and showed me what a capable, level-headed person you really are. The woman in me reacted to that. I was very close to succumbing to the intense feelings of vulnerability and need I had. You rescued me, and did so selflessly. I was...I wanted to..."

He put his fingertips against her lips, silencing her. "We both now how close it was. You've been alone for 16 months now, and I've been pretty much alone with you. The feelings I have are not exactly paternal anymore either." He laughed, completely flustered. "I don't think this is something we should talk about now. Not with Effie downstairs watching TV. She's caught me out enough times that I know better than to forget about her being around."

Rachel laughed nervously. "That would be a bit much, admittedly. It's a bit much for her mother, too. But thank you for letting me get it off my chest. It had to be said before I exploded like a volcano." She kissed him on the cheek and stepped back. "In light of that..." She hesitated, biting her lower lip. "I have to decide what to do if your father wants to make up."

Michael regarded her calmly. He knew where this was going, where it had to go from this point.

"Don't ask permission to go to bed with your own husband," he said softly.

Rachel reddened again. "I'm not. What I want is to promise you that I won't do it unless he's committed to me and the marriage and to his children. Unless he agrees to be my husband again and to be faithful the rest of our life together. It's unfair to you, but it's the fairest thing I can't think of."

Michael said in exasperation: "What I think shouldn't be part of any decision about you and Dad."

"It shouldn't be, no. But it is, and we both know why. And we both know that we can never go to bed together, no matter what. Right?"

Michael nodded. He would not-could not-commit incest with his mother.

* * *

The four days leading up to the dinner date were hard for them both. Neither said a word, but neither could look the other in the eye for too long, either. It was a toss-up who was more anxious the evening of, Rachel or Michael.

"How do I look?" Rachel asked, nervously smoothing the bottom of her knit top against her hips. Michael thought she looked just incredible; 9-year-old Effie gave her a more jaundiced opinion.

"It makes you look fat, Mom. I liked the other outfit better."

Michael could have dope-slapped her; Rachel eyed him warningly. "I think you're right. This makes me look to hippy, doesn't it?"

Michael threw his hands up in frustration. "You don't have any hips! How can it make you look hippy?"

Effie smiled at him condescendingly. "I don't know why she's even asking you. You'd send her out in jeans and a sweatshirt, you dork."

Michael nearly lost his temper, which only made her smirk. He thought acidly, I'm the man of the house in case you've forgotten and you're not too old to put over my knee and teach some manners to. She looked away quickly, evidently reading his thoughts. He returned his gaze to his mom and assured her: "I think you look great. If you want to go back to the skirt and blouse outfit, I liked that too. Dazzle him with those incredible legs of yours, Mom."

Effie giggled, and Mom frowned at him reprovingly. Secretly, he hoped she would switch back to the previous outfit because he disliked how the mauve colored top clung to every curve, particularly sculpting her small but prominent breasts. The loose-fitting, silky blouse tended to hide them. No such luck.

Dad arrived at 6 PM and Effie was ecstatic, jumping into her father's arms on the front stoop. Michael was restrained, greeting his dad with a hug and a manly shake of the hands. He was encouraged, noting his dad looked almost as anxious about this dinner date as his mom, who looked on the verge of a panic attack. He was worried though, about the obvious and instantaneous sexual tension that sprang up between the two. He watched in frustration as his mom's color grew high and her breathing and dilated pupils gave her away. Her last look at Michael as Jack shepherded her out the front door was one of apology. He nodded, tacitly saying, Whatever is best for you, Mom. And despite his jealousy, he meant what he thought.

* * *

Two dinner dates later, including a movie and a visit to a bar afterward, Rachel approached Michael with news that Jack wanted the family to spend a ski weekend in December at Wisp. The stress was obvious in her face. This was a big step up from dinner and a movie, Michael thought----for one, thing, who would sleep where-but he stomped on the neck of his jealousy and approached this as a son supporting his mom's best interest. He knew how hard the last month had been for her. But he also had to be honest.

"Don't get mad at me, okay? What I have to say will make you defensive and on the spot. I have to say it anyway, or I'm not living up to my promise to look out for you. And don't tell me that's not my job because we both know it is. You need looking after and as the current man of the house, it's my job to do it. I love you and I need to be your Devil's Advocate. Can we agree on that?"

Indeed on the spot, flushed and humiliated, Rachel nodded curtly. Then she took a deep breath and calmed down. "I keep forgetting how much our family dynamic has changed in the last few months. My sense of worth takes a hit every time I remember just how dependent upon you I am. And how much I absolutely rely on you." She was quiet a moment looking at Michael's chest with her arms crossed defensively over hers. "The worst part is I still have this damned, frustrating, maddening desire for you that makes me feel like the poster girl for the Deviant Mothers Society. How can I be so emotionally attached to my own son? It warps my entire thinking process, my whole sense of being." She looked up. "And yet I still have feelings for your father and want him back. What is the matter with me, Michael?"

He laughed bitterly. "I'm not your husband. You need a husband, even if he's a fuck up and put you through hell. The question is, can you trust him not to do the same to you again? Does he know you're considering this? Taking him back?"

Rachel sighed. "He swears he doesn't want to rush me into anything. Or push me into anything. He agrees I was right to kick him out and file for the divorce. He admits that he had a problem with...infidelity. He broke it off with Cassie in the hopes we'd have a chance at reconciliation. He even acknowledges that you have a right to be involved in this decision as my..." She laughed, embarrassed. "My present provider-replacement. I wonder if he doesn't suspect how close to true that really is." She shifted uncomfortably. "Can I ask you a serious question? I'm not sure I actually can. This is so terribly embarrassing for me." She looked at the door and Michael knew her thoughts were on Effie, and where she was. He walked to the door, checked outside and eased it closed.

"Go ahead," he said. The naked innocence in her eyes was unnerving. He watched her shudder and then drop her gaze to the floor.

"Would you actually make love to me, Michael? If that was what we decided we both wanted and needed? Knowing that I'm your mother and that I gave birth to you 18 years ago?"

"Yes!" Michael answered forcefully.

His mom nodded fretfully. "This makes everything so hard. I think sometimes....I should just let you take me to bed and get it over with." She looked up apologetically. "That sounds so bad, I'm sorry." She impulsively stretched up and kissed his lips. "I love you, Michael. I promise you if things go sour with your father and I...shit. I am so stupid." She wiped at her eyes with the heels of her hands. "Why is this so fucking difficult?"

Michael said in a whisper: "I want things to work out for you and Dad. I do. I'm not the one with two kids and a mortgage payment to meet every month. You need a husband, Mom, not a Freshman live-in lover. If things work out badly, I'm still here. We can talk about it then. Right now, you need to make sure Dad can be trusted not to hurt you again. Maybe this family weekend will answer that question." He took her by the arms. "I want you to sleep with him if that's what you need to find out. He loves you, I know he does, and that might be what gets you back together again. Just make sure it's what you need, Mom."

He drew her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. Rachel wrapped her arms tightly around his waist and Michael tried to ignore her soft breasts flattening against his chest. He promised himself that, should the opportunity ever present itself, he would hold her naked against him and feel them flatten again.

* * *

Two weeks later they climbed into Jack's SUV and made for the resort on a blustery, promising Friday afternoon. The forecast for Western Maryland was snow, up to 12" in the higher elevations over the next two days. Michael found himself secretly excited about this. He hadn't been skiing since the breakup and looked forward to donning skis again and tearing up the trails. Beside him in the back seat, Effie leaned forward against her seat belt and exclaimed excitedly: "I get to ski the intermediate slopes, right?"

Mom and Dad were less than committal on the request. "We'll have to see," Jack said. "You haven't been skiing in a year and a half, sweetie."

"None of us have!" Effie objected. Michael frowned at the quick, uncomfortable glance that passed between his parents. Jack obviously had been skiing since the break-up. Not unexpected, Michael thought in retrospect, considering what an aggressive, expert skier Jack was. He'd learned at the age of three and had been a fanatic his whole life. Four years ago, on a weekend away with friends Aaron and Sheila Crawford, Jack and Sheila decided that love of skiing wasn't the only thing they had in common. A flirtation developed, followed by a torrid, year-long extramarital affair. When it ended, Jack took up with Melissa Crewe, a coworker of Rachel's he met at the company Christmas party. Things blew up when Rachel covered for Melissa one afternoon during a doctor's appointment that was actually a liaison with Jack at a cross-town motel. Though Melissa religiously deleted any emails from Jack, she had not counted on the email server failing that afternoon and messages being restored from the back-up server. Rachel was confronted not only with Jack's current infidelity, but a humiliating account of the affair with her best friend Sheila. Furiously humiliated, she called Melissa's cell phone and told her to pass the message to Jack that he needn't come home that night. Melissa sealed her humiliation by laughing about it in the background and inviting Jack to stay with her. Rachel had gone home and cried for a week straight.

They arrived at five and checked into the lodge. The arrangements made everyone uncomfortable. They could afford only two rooms, so Michael and Dad would take one, Effie and Mom the other. Effie was at once enthusiastic and critical of this arrangement. She wanted a girls-night with Mom, but she also wanted Mom and Dad together again. Michael was glum about either arrangement, but selfishly preferred this one over his mom and dad sleeping together. That thought just caused him no end of pain. They unpacked and went for dinner in the lodge restaurant. Effie was straining at the bit, wanting to get out there and join the other skiers hitting the slopes. Every minute spent inside was a personal affront to her.

"Why do we have to eat?" "Wouldn't it be better to work up an appetite first?" "Can I at least do some snow-tubing?" "You promised I could start on the intermediate slope, right?" "Michael can ski with me!" "I don't need Michael to ski with me if I have to ski the stupid beginner's slope." "I have as much right to talk as anyone. I think it's stupid for Mom and Dad not to be in the same room together."

Clearing his throat, Jack said carefully: "We talked about that, sweetie. Your mom and I think that's being presumptuous."

Michael snickered when Effie protested, "Shut up, Michael! I know what presumptuous means!" She turned her precocious gaze on Mom and Dad. "You're getting back together, right? Ow, Michael! Damn it!"

"Effie Lynn! You do not use that language to your brother."

"But he kicked me, Mom!"

"You deserved to be kicked, you stupid little putz," Michael growled.

"Michael, be nice to your sister. She's 9-years-old. She's guaranteed to say things like that. Effie, we discussed this already. Your dad and I are taking it slow."

"Like a freaking glacier," Effie complained irritably.

"Will you shut up," Michael growled. "And don't stick your damned tongue out at me. I'll cut the damned thing off the next time."

Effie formed a slug and displayed it obstinately.

This made Jack laugh, which made Effie laugh, which started Mom laughing, which made Michael roll his eyes and shake his head in disgust. And then start laughing along with the rest of them.

It was decided that all would start with the toughest beginners slope to reacquaint everyone with skis and poles and skiers trying to kill everyone in sight. Michael stuck close to Effie, who took after her mother coordination-wise on skis; Dad kept an eye on Mom.

Michael was not in the same league as his dad, although he'd inherited Jack's natural talent, if not his overwhelming desire to hit the slopes every chance he got. Michael would never be more than an occasional weekend skier, never taking off to Colorado as his Mom and Dad had some winters. Not that his mother was expert, by any means. Michael often thought she had no business on the intermediate slopes, much less following after his Dad on the expert's. She was not coordinated or confident enough for that. He was relieved when she showed no interest in venturing beyond the beginners slopes that night, though it kept Jack close by. The trouble began afterward, when they returned to the lodge, sore but pumped on adrenalin and Jack suggested he and Mom catch a nightcap in the bar. Michael was instantly and adamantly against it, but didn't say a word. His sister made up for his silence, practically jumping up and down in her excitement and clapping her hands. Michael could have strangled her. Instead, he told his mom via a nod to go with Dad and have a good time, which she did, reluctantly.

An hour later, Michael began to worry but Effie threatened to run screaming down the hall that Michael was trying to kill her if he even went near the door. As a second hour crawled by and Michael began to fear the worst, Effie only grinned smugly and insisted they play archery on the the Wii. She was asleep when Jack and Rachel returned, pleasantly drunk and obviously enamored of the empty room next door. Michael sent them away with his blessings, noting Effie asleep in the bed opposite him anyway, which he damn well knew she'd done on purpose. When his parents stole through the connecting room, Rachel giggling drunkenly and Jack with an obvious hard-on for her, physically as well as mentally, Michael went into the bathroom and sat down on the toilet with his head in his hands and cried in frustration.

* * *

Rachel's eyes were bloodshot, puffy and discomfited at breakfast the next morning. Time on the beginner's slope the night before couldn't account for her stiff movements, and Michael wondered if she had slept at all. She would not meet his gaze, the only confirmation he needed that she'd had total unrestricted sex. He was hard pressed not to show his anger; from her cat and canary look, she was hard pressed not to melt away under the table out of sight. He finally relented as she finished her third black coffee and rubbed her calf with the side of his boot. She paused, fork halfway to her mouth and met his gaze, blinking timidly. He smiled, cocking his head in admission that she probably felt worse about this than he did, and would she please stop doing that. The man beside her had occupied her bed and body for 16 years; what was one more night? He wondered darkly just how many times they had done it.

* * *

"This is not a good idea," he said. They were at the lifts and Michael was not happy with this decision to skip the intermediate slopes and accompany Jack down an expert's. "You're not up to speed yet, Mom. We should let Dad enjoy himself without worrying about you and I killing ourselves."

Rachel shook her head. "I'll be fine. I've skied this slope half a dozen times. I don't need a babysitter, Michael." She eyed him angrily for a moment, and then dropped her eyes sheepishly. "I'll be fine. You should go with your sister and keep an eye on her."

"Not a chance," Michael said firmly, shooting Effie a look to keep quiet. "I'm not letting you out of my sight."

She eyed him plaintively, but Michael indicated the argument was over, so sighing dramatically, she said, "Fine, whatever" and Michael would gladly have given her the spanking he'd wanted to give Effie. And then he berated himself for begrudging his mother her hard earned happiness. Only, she didn't look very happy, did she?

10 seconds onto the trail and she was in trouble. He watched her blow two easy cuts and even the little coordination she'd exhibited last night was gone. She'd forgotten how to brake and was constantly on the wrong leg at the wrong time. Alarmed, and angry at his father for paying so damned little attention to his struggling wife, Michael tucked and went after her with single-minded intensity. His alarm shot through the roof when she looked back in panic after her worse cut yet and Michael knew it was a tree that would stop her if he didn't. He was beside her five seconds later and jettisoning his poles when she kicked back, right into his arms. He went down and brought her down atop him, digging the side of his skis into the snow, throwing up a flume that covered them both. She emitted a hi-pitched screech as the trees rushed at them at seemingly impossible and unstoppable speed. Michael braced for impact, wrapping her as tightly as possible and putting himself between her and the danger. At the last moment, his skis caught an impacted snow-ridge and it flung them sideways around the first two pines and right between a second and third pair and into a high bank of snow backed by laurel bushes. They came to a jarring halt amid a fierce throwback of snow. Michael could only pant and feel the slam of his heart against his rib cage. He looked down at his mom. He pulled up his goggles and then hers.