Healing Mom

After unpacking, mom settled in and began cooking us dinner. I had not been home for quite some time so I wandered around to get the old feel for the place. In the den I sat down and noticed that mom had pulled out several photo albums and had them on the coffee table. I opened one and soon saw pictures that I had almost forgotten when I saw them last.

It was pictures of mom and dad before I was born as well as when I was a baby. Good lord, the resemblance of dad and I was uncanny. Same tousled hair usually uncombed since it was curly, the same smile, a little curved and our eyes. I sorted through more and more pictures, bringing back very vivid memories. I got to the back of the album and I felt a bulge in the back pocket. I fished out a number of photos; surprised that they were there since mom was a stickler on setting stuff like this correctly.

I soon learned why these particular photos were not set in the album. These were nude shots. The first had my very naked dad standing by a tripod and he was setting a camera. There was one of mom on the couch, spread eagled with her hand rubbing her pussy. I felt my face flush as the poses became more erotic and sexual. I thought I had seen enough when I got to one which had them both smiling at the camera, dad, one arm around mom the other fondling her tit. Mom's hand firmly on his hardened cock, while flashing a smile that could light up a runway.

Suddenly a bolt of heat coursed through my body. I was looking at a picture of dad lying down on the bed, face planted deeply in moms pussy while his hands spread her ass wide open. Mom was engrossed in devouring his dick. This picture could have been taken last night in the motel it was so eerie

I was convinced that mom had relived a moment from her past last night during our escapade. The big question was it consciously or subconsciously conducted. There was no way I could tell for sure and I was not savvy to the fact of drawing that out from mom.

"Pork chops ok with mashed potatoes?"

Mom made me jump when she walked toward me with that question. I quickly slid the pictures back in their slot before she could reach me and see what I was really looking at.

When she saw the album open she misted up and fidgeted with her apron.

"I was looking through those before I came up to your school. You look and act so much like your father. Frankly those photo's and you, there is no difference."

She started sobbing quietly now so I rushed to her and hugged her hard, she breasts mashing into my chest and her leg between mine. Her arms encircled me and held on very tightly as she whispered in my ear, "so much like Jack."

It was then that I decided I would not and could not take that job offer so far away. My mother needed me and I was committed to help her. She had to reach the plateau of reality or she was doomed to be in this dimension of misery.

After supper we were both pretty beat, so we watched a little TV together till we began nodding off. Once I did hit the sheets though, sleep eluded me as I kept thinking on the photos and what happened between mom and me. Without the hint of sleep on the horizon, I got up and wandered, first to the kitchen for some water and then back to my room. I passed mom's room which was cracked somewhat and listened quietly. Sure enough those tiny muted sobs could be heard and my heart hurt for my mother. I toyed with the idea of going in to see to her, but my mind convinced me it may become far more than I can handle, so back to bed I went.

Next morning I called on my job offer and declined it, hoping that I was making a good decision. Working in our town would not afford me the same opportunities as elsewhere, but I felt it best to stay near mom. I mapped out my plan to check on positions and get some income in. Mom insisted that I stay in our home till I felt ready to venture out on my own.

My degree was in finance and I was hoping to land something in accounting. After a hard week things looked bleak. What offers I had were uninteresting as well as grossly underpaid and I had times where I resented myself for dropping the offer I did have.

After a hard day with three interviews under my belt, I walked into our local diner to charge up with a hot tea and a pastry. The place was packed and the only available seat was at the counter, which I took. After my order I started to look around and the guy three stools down from me looked familiar. I guess the guy noticed I was staring and looked at me as well, doing a double take as he did. Gosh he looked familiar but I just couldn't place him.

My order came and people left the stools so at this point nobody was between the guy and me. He was a well dressed businessman with a shock of black hair and a mustache, almost to the tune of Tom Selleck. When he spotted me staring again he spoke up.

"Do I know you? You look very familiar to me, but you're just too young to be him."

"I was about to say the same about you. When I was young my dad had a dear friend who really resembles you, less the mustache." I remarked.

"What is your dad's name?"

"It was Jack, Jack Bingham."

The man spun his stool around facing me with a startled look on his face. He pushed his plate and himself to the seat next to me.

"I don't believe it. I knew your dad when we were young; we were pals from grade school till senior year of high school when my dad got transferred to England and I stayed through college there. I came back for his wedding and your birth. Gosh so many years ago. How in the hell is he and your mom?"

Painfully I told him of dad's passing. The man's facial features revealed a hurtful look and I could see some tears welling up. He sat silent for a moment to compose himself.

"I'm so sorry to hear this, I didn't know. What a tragedy for you both."

I was now placing this man from an earlier time. In my dad's teenage album he was always on camera with a dark haired kid, a little larger than himself, but definitely this man. I just couldn't remember his name.

My puzzled look must have alerted him as he apologized for not introducing himself.

"I'm Bill, Bill Matthews" as he extended his hand.

Now it was clear for me. My dad talked many times of his friend Bill, how he even cried when he moved away. Dad also told me once when I had a falling out with a friend, about his loss not keeping closer contact with Bill and how he regretted it.

We sat at the counter for almost the rest of the afternoon as we talked and talked. My interest was peaked when he said he was moving his financial services firm to our town. Seems the stress of running his current operation in New York was too much, and with today's communications advancements, you can operate from anywhere. He was just in town to access possible office locations as he was relocating about 40 people. When he asked what I did, he got excited and said he needed more people with my education and that we should talk further. I invited him to the house for dinner at the end of the week to discuss that and see mom.

When I talked with mom after getting home, she was ecstatic upon seeing Bill again. She told me a number of stories about Bill and dad and how wonderful it was to see him when she gave birth to me. He had taken a red eye flight from London, driven another 120 miles to make it within minutes. In a few hours he had to retrace his trip for he had a major meeting the following day in Paris. She pulled out some albums to show me the fun times with Bill and mom and dad.

"Oh, how is Sarah, Bill's wife? She is the most exotic woman I have ever seen. Somewhere I have a picture of her, from their wedding." Mom said as she was busy turning pages.

"No mom he never brought her up. He did have a wedding band on though."

Mom found what she was looking for and showed it to me. Good lord she was right. It was a wedding photo of Bill and the most striking woman I had ever seen. Dark complexion, large smoldering eyes, and the body of a goddess. She was every boy's and man's wet dream.

I could only emit one word in front of mom viewing this photo, "wow."

Mom laughed at my reaction. She said my dad was the same way. They both met her several times and found her to be fascinating as well as drop dead gorgeous. She was a model for print and occasional runway and her heritage was of Turkish, Irish and English mix. Whatever it was, it worked. Every picture I saw of her locked my stare only on her, disregarding all others in the shot.

With the news of our dinner guest mom went into frantic mode over the next days to clean and spruce up the house. Gone for the moment were her episodes of despair and depression; she had a mission it seemed. She even got out of the doldrums enough to have her hair done and full blown manicure.

When Bill arrived for dinner he was laden down with two dozen roses and some paperwork for me. Evidently my resume impressed him and he said he was ready to talk job.

Mom and Bill embraced and clutched each other over and over, such as two old friends would do. They remarked to each other how good they looked. Mom brought up dad and they both welled up and the hugging started again. Then mom asked a question that began to scare me in setting this up as a bad idea.

"Bill, how is Sarah doing? Is she with you in the states, or still overseas working? I would love to see her again." Mom said, looking intently at Bill.

Bill stepped back a little and placed his hands on his face and began to sob softly. Mom got a scared look on her face and embraced his trembling body again. She gently patted his back and asked over and over again what was wrong.

"Elaine, that's why I moved back to the US and then to here, Bill explained. I lost her about 6 months ago. We were so tired from working nonstop we took a long weekend to the coast in Spain. I got us a nice condo and the first morning we were out on the deck, Sarah was reading a guide so we could plan our day; I went inside to get us some juice. I came back outside in less than a minute, and she was gone."

My mom freaked as did I. "Oh my god Bill, I never knew. I am heartbroken; I'm so sorry."

Bill was trying to compose himself but it was difficult. He still clung to mom and they held hands.

Mom was still shaken but had to ask how she died.

Bill took a deep breath and exhaled. "Sarah had complained a little of shortness of breath. She thought some decent fresh air would help, but even the plane ride wore on her some. She had a headache the day before but said it was better that morning. It was a brain aneurysm; she was gone in an instant."

They were both in tears at this point, plus I felt miserable. I had hoped that Bill could help some in healing mom, now it appeared that I made matters worse by reintroducing them after all these years. Emotions overflowed and we all politely cancelled dinner; mom and I went to our rooms, Bill went back to his hotel.

I felt bad the next morning, not planning to fill out the job application Bill had left last night. Before I could throw it in the trash, the phone rang and it was Bill.

"Morning Jimmy, its Bill Matthews. I need to apologize to you and your mother for last night. I ruined the evening by my outburst and your wonderful dinner plans. I'm so very sorry but sometimes my pain about Sarah's loss becomes very fresh and it is hard for me to regain control. Can I make it up by taking you both to dinner tonight, please?"

I assured Bill he had nothing to apologize for and filled him in a little on mom's behavior since dad died. I told him I knew exactly what he meant about the pain, since we are going through it to. Since mom had already left for work, I really could not speak for her, but I assured him that dinner would be a wonderful idea.

"That's great Jimmy. Oh by the way have you finished that application yet? If so, get that over to my hotel or bring it with you tonight. My human resource manager is coming tomorrow and I want him to look at you first."

'Sure, I'll have it completed. Thanks Bill thanks for everything."

We had a relaxing dinner and for the first time in quite a while I saw mom laugh, I mean really laugh. Bill was also very calm and to be in the moment. The only time dad and Sarah were mentioned was in the toast to their memories.

Well a month has passed, I got the job with Bill's firm and it has worked out great. The work is fulfilling and offers a lot of promise for advancement. I'm already looking for my own place, maybe a condo near the office. I also may have a little thing going with our receptionist, a little doll named Kari.

Mom and Bill go on dates once or twice a week and you can see when they are together; a lot of their pain goes away. It seems to be working well.

Tonight Bill was coming over for a special birthday dinner (his) while I went to the movies with Kari. The movie really sucked and Kari got ill and I took her home early. Arriving home, Bill's car parked on the street, I walked in expecting them to be at dinner. The dining room surprised me, food half eaten and wine not finished. The cloth napkins discarded on the floor.

I didn't know what to think as I went up to my room, but not before I heard sounds coming from mom's bedroom. Beyond curious, I silently listened at the cracked open door. Besides the creak of the bedsprings, mom's urgings of "Oh Bill, yes right there Bill" came out loud and clear.

Grinning, I thrust out my chest as I went quietly to my room. Mom for sure was being healed.