My Sister Jean
Chapter 17 - Mother Confronts Billy
My mother said something to Jean in a low voice, then
nodding her encouragement, gently pushed her away. Jean
glanced at me, eyebrows furrowed in a worried expression,
then back at Mom. Our mother, in a slightly louder voice,
said, "It's okay, Jean. It'll be okay. Now go on in and
let me talk to Billy."
I suppose one of the more dreaded expressions I might
hear from my mother would be, "I'd like to talk to you." I
immediately catastrophize, leaping far into the future,
thinking of what bridge I might live under and if I can
really stay alive selling pencils. If I sank any lower into
the hot tub, my head'd be under water.
Mom walked over to the tub and said, "Well, this caught
us both by surprise, didn't it?"
I made a millisecond eye contact and numbly nodded.
"Billy, we have to talk and there'll never be a better
moment than this. Don't you agree?"
Again, the acquiescing nod, still not meeting her eyes.
"Tell you what...you get dressed - get warm - and we'll
also sit on the back deck. It'll be private."
And then she added with a chuckle, "Unless someone's
sitting in the hot tub."
After donning sweats, I walked the final mile to the
guillotine and waited for Mom. How could things have gone
so wrong, so fast, I wondered as I sat there, remembering
that a short while ago everything had been normal? Or had
it? I suppose not. My addict's mind wanted to think that
nothing was wrong, but the more-normal kid who lived in my
head suggested otherwise.
"For Christ's sake, Billy. You've been trying to get
into Jean's pants for months - your sister for cripes sake!
And you think that's normal? And then Jean tells Mom and
*she's* gonna think it's normal? Yeah, right."
My impending suicide was thwarted by Mom sitting next
to me and laying her hand on my arm, saying. "Try to calm
down, Billy. It's going to be all right. Believe me."
Do they tell you to be calm before your exiled? Gonna
be all right under the goddamn bridge?
I tried to talk and croaked instead. "Uh...I don't
know what to say...I didn't..."
"Didn't plan this?"
"Plan it? I couldn't have imagined it!" Then I looked
at her and added, "I don't know what to say."
"Try starting with the truth, why don't you?"
"The truth? You KNOW the truth. Jean told you the
truth. It's true, what she said. Except that she took too
much responsibility for what we did. I was the one that was
pushing it all the time."
"Billy, Billy...I'm not sorting out who did what. And
I'm *not* attempting to apportion blame. It's not a blame
thing...at least as far as I understand it. But I need to
know more. That's why we're talking."
I glanced at her. She gave me a soft smile and
squeezed my forearm. I still didn't know what to say so I
did what I did best. I just sat there like a lump.
"Son, I always knew I'd have these personal talks,
these talks about sexuality with Jean and I suppose I
assumed that your dad would do the same with you. I know
now that that's probably an erroneous assumption. Your dad
is very smart and he's well educated and quite articulate,
but as you know, there's an unapproachable emotional side
that shields him from things like this. I'm afraid he'll
never get it together to chat with you. So, like it or not,
you get me."
"Mom, you know I can't talk to dad about things like
this. Cripes, I don't know how I can talk to *you* about
it."
"We'll do okay, Billy. Let's start with general
things. I gather you don't disagree with Jean's story, at
least not in most ways."
I mumbled, "No, I agree...at least mostly."
"Do you have anything to add? Anything that might help
me see things better?"
I was about ready to admit I didn't have a thing more
to say, that there was nothing I could add to the story.
Instead I began talking. "Mom, I can't tell you how much I
care for Jean. I'd do anything for her and I never wanted
to hurt her. Oh, there's a part of me that thinks of sex
all the time - and Jean's a sexy girl, I can't deny that -
but below that, I care for her too much to ever allow myself
to hurt her."
"I know that, Billy. I never doubted that."
"You see, we just became really close, really good
friends. I needed someone to talk to about...about my own
feelings. I knew Jean would never make fun of me and that
when the chips were down, she'd support me. As I would
her."
"I know that, too."
"We talked about it and talked about it. We didn't fit
any mold of how a brother and sister oughta be, at least
about sex, but it just happened that way. We thought that
if we always told each other the truth and if we always
cared for each other, we'd be all right"
"Go on, Billy."
"Gee, Mom...the rest is about...you know...sex."
Smiling, she said, "Yes, I'm getting that."
"But, I feel funny. Talking about sex with you, I
mean."
"Billy, you heard me tell Jean that sex is not a dirty
subject. Private, certainly. And at times, very intimate.
It's true that we don't talk about it with just anyone, but
not because it's wrong, or bad or dirty. It's private.
Well, this conversation is private. What you say here will
stay here. No one else will hear what you tell me unless
you tell them. I know kids think that *they* invented sex,
that their parents got off the sexual boat yesterday...and
mostly that's not the case. At least not with me. I'm a
sexual woman. I was a sexual girl and not much has changed.
They still do it the same way last I heard."
I could feel my face burning. I didn't look at her and
mumbled, "Yeah, I guess so."
"Guess so, SHIT!"
My head shot up and I turned to look into her flashing
eyes.
"Don't patronize me, Billy...don't be so damn superior.
I don't know everything, but I'll bet a nickel I've seen
more, imagined more and done a darn sight more that you've
ever thought of. I'm an intensely erotic woman and proud of
it! You could do a damn sight worse than talking with me,
dude."
My mouth fell open. I stared at her, astonished, open
eyed. I stuttered.
"So let's start over, shall we? I'll respect you. I
expect no less from you. Okay?"
Finding me tongue, I stumbled over my words. "I'm
sorry Mom. I didn't mean that...I never thought...Cripes, I
don't know what I'm trying to say. But I AM sorry for my
attitude. Forgive me, please?"
"Forgiven. Now let's get down to plain talk. Don't
beat around the bush. Whatever words you'd use with your
buddies, with Jean, you can use with me. Don't give me any
of that penis-vagina crap. Say it like it is, okay?"
Wow. Where did this woman come from anyway? I've
never seen her like this.
How do I talk with her? I mean, how can I turn around a
life-time of behavior?
"Well...okay, I'll try...no...I'll DO it. What were we
talking about anyway. I forgot."
"I think you were trying to tell me that you wanted to
screw your sister."
Gulp. "I hadn't thought to say it in just those
words...but yes, I guess that's about it. But I didn't! We
never did it. Honest!"
Softer, "Yes, I believe you, Billy. You don't have to
convince me. What I'm more interested in is how you support
each other, about how caring you are for each other. I'm
far less concerned about conventional morality than I am
about our capacity to love and care for each other. No
matter what you two have done, if you've done it with
honesty and love, things will be all right. I just don't
want you to sweep it under the rug, that's all. So tell me,
where do you see this going?"
"In the long run? I've no idea, Mom. It's pretty
clear to me, all I can handle, the only thing I can control,
is my actions right now. I've been told over and over to do
the footwork and let go of the outcome, that there's no way
I can control the outcome of anything. So, I've no idea
where this is all going. But I do know this. I *can*
control who I am and what I do today."
"And what does that mean to you? In terms of you and
Jean?"
"Well, it means that I can show up each day and tell
the truth. That I can think of Jean's welfare more than I
think of my own. That I can be a man today. Or at least
try to be."
"You know, kid, I think you may have a chance. A
chance in life that is. It may surprise you, but I've been
watching you a long time and I think you're a good guy at
heart. More, you're a good guy in your actions. So, tell
me, how do you see yourself...no, how do you FEEL about
yourself and your sexuality"
We'd been talking just long enough for the terror of
the moment to have abated in me. My mouth wasn't as dry and
I could breathe in and out, even unconsciously. I'd slipped
into that place where I wasn't considering what I was
saying. I was just letting it happen. Of course, had I
seen this, I'd have frozen.
"Mom, I know I've never received any judgmental stances
from you or from Dad. You never told me - us - that sex was
bad or a moral thing. Yet, I've received that message
repeatedly from lots of other places. You know...school, TV,
and especially church...places like that. I've never
attempted to weigh you against them, but I suppose I *have*
been influenced by those messages, those shalt nots."
"Yeah, it's impossible not to hear them. They're there
and on all levels. You okay with it now or are there still
demons to be reckoned with?"
"Mostly I think I'm okay. At least, I'm not aware of
any really deep issues. I suppose there are the
superficial, social-shame issues. You know, the fear of
ridicule or rejection if I break social taboos. I'd be
red-faced if I left my fly open, but I wouldn't be
emotionally crushed and wouldn't think I was a bad or evil
person."
"Boy, your mind floats away, doesn't it? At times,
you're so darn cerebral, Billy. Let me ask this. How do
you feel when you spring a woody around Jean? Or when you
have a wet dream?"
"It's still difficult to forget you're my mother. I
keep forming phrases in my mind that I hope won't be too
offensive. I'll try to be real, Mom. How do I feel about a
woody? When it's Jean? At first I was embarrassed. Then I
came to accept it. More, to enjoy it. I began to look
forward to the sexy feelings I'd get around Jean. I was
always trying to look up her dress or catch a glimpse of her
breasts...uh, tits."
"Sounds pretty normal to me."
"Anyway, whatever it is, I was stuck with it. Jean
told you. We sorta drifted into being more open and even a
little sexual with each other. I felt wonderful. For the
first time in my life I could be honest with another person
about my sexual feelings. I loved it."
"And you wanted to jump her bones?"
"Yeah. Something like that. I admitted to her right
away that I wanted to...you know."
"Fuck her?"
"I think that's the expression I used, yes."
"And she didn't want to?"
"No. She wanted to. And I wanted to. But both of us
were scared. She more than me. I told her that I supported
her all the way, but that I was so terminally horny, that if
she ever gave in, I'd give in. It was kinda a threat, huh?"
"Or a promise."
"Hmmmm, hadn't thought of it that way. Whatever. We've
played bathroom games. I love watching her. I know she
told you. We've had oral sex - once for her and once for
me. And, oh yes, we dry humped once in the grass on the
hill above the house. We both seem to enjoy the thrill of
seduction, of almost doing it. That make sense?"
"Billy, you don't have to tell me every little detail,
although I must admit that I enjoy hearing about it. Brings
back memories. Really what I wanted to do is gauge how open
and honest you kids were with each other. To get an idea if
you might hurt yourselves or each other."
"And what do you think, Mom? We a danger?"
Laughing, "Probably are, but I must say, you're both
psychologically more healthy than most adults I know.
Certainly better adjusted that I was at your age. I'm
impressed with you. Still, I'm concerned for both of you.
This is dangerous stuff. You know that, don't you?"
"Intellectually I do, but emotionally somehow I think
I'm okay. I'm not trying to argue with you. Just trying to
tell you how I feel."
"Yeah, I can see that. So what I'm going to do for the
moment is nothing. I still think there's the potential for
harm here, but I'm not going to fall back on some
shame-based sanctions. I love you two guys and I trust you.
Trust that you'll try to act honorably. But please
understand, I'm not telling you that everything's all right,
that there's no problem, no worry. What I am telling you is
that I understand what you're feeling and what you're
facing. I want you to continue to show caring respect for
Jean, and she for you. I know you have no control over you
sexual feelings. They're just there."
She put her hand on my arm, I guess for emphasis.
"Around me, you two guys can be yourselves. You don't have
to hide your affection. My brother Jim is cool. I'll talk
to him. He'll understand. It's your dad I'm less certain
about. So prudent judgment would suggest that you stay
underground around him, at least about the sexual stuff
between you and Jean. Okay?"
I sat there, more dazed than not. I couldn't believe
how we'd gone from some place of utter fear to rational
communication. About sex. With my Mom!
"Mom, right now I'm so confused. It's clear, I need
help. I'll do whatever you tell me to do. I'll do it your
way."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, guy. How about a
compromise? Let's do it *our* way. And for that to happen,
we've got to keep avenues of communication open. You've got
to be able to talk to me and I've got to be able to talk to
you, each of us without apprehension. This can't be the last
talk we have on the subject. Do you agree with that?"
"Agreed, but I know if I wait until the moment *seems*
right, I may wait forever. Let's make a date. Right now,
for later. Tomorrow say? Even if it's just a brief check
in, I'll feel better if I know I have a date to talk with
you...about sex. Okay?"
"Boy, a date with my son!"
"I'm not gonna bring flowers or anything."
