Sons (15 page)

“All right, no more surprises,” Alexandra said, tracing a cross with her finger over her heart, “Promise.”

She knew her mother very well, and she knew this was not an easy compromise for her to make. This was as good as it would get. Still, it irked her to think her mother was in a position to approve or disapprove of her actions.

“Are you going to tell Colin’s dad?” Alexandra asked with visible apprehension.

“Yes, of course. He has to know, that is if he doesn’t already. We can’t stop you two from having sex. That bull has already left the pasture, but as parents, we have a responsibility to see that you don’t do something you’ll regret.”

Alexandra’s mind was a whirl of mixed emotion. On the one hand, she was relieved that her relationship and sexual status was at least out in the open. On the other hand, Colin’s father was an unknown. She had met Mr. Phillips before, but she had no way of knowing how he would take the news that his son was having sex with his office manager’s daughter.

Marsha could tell Zan was not happy. She felt herself slip from the role of mother into that of friend and confidante. She smiled and ruffled Alexandra’s long, wavy hair.

“I suppose you like him a lot, or you wouldn’t be spending time with him.”

Alexandra looked up, smiling. “I do. I like him a lot. I hope you will too.”

“Yeah, well, you two are very young to be starting this. There are emotions that need to grow and things you need to learn. I know you’re going to be hurt. I wish there was some way I could prevent it.”

“What do you mean I’ll be hurt? Colin likes me too. He’s not going to hurt anybody.”

“Zan, life has a way of teaching lessons with a hard hand. That’s all I mean. No parent wants a child to cry.”

“Mom! You sound like a soap opera. I’ll be fine, all right?”

“I’m sure you will. After all, you have me for a mom. Oh, umm… Zan, you are using protection, aren’t you? Please tell me you’re using condoms.”

Zan kept a bright smile as she thought,
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!

“Yes, we’re being careful,” she lied.

“Good.”

Marsha stood to go. She bent down and gave her daughter a kiss on the cheek. The realization her little girl, who just a few years ago stated emphatically she
hated
boys, was now sexually active, unnerved her.

Marsha closed her eyes.

It was just a few years ago, wasn’t it? She’s growing up so fast, so fast.

She looked down at her daughter, so young and confident, and said, “I love you.”

Alexandra reached up and took her mother’s hand. Answering with the same words she used since she was a child, “I love you better.”

Twenty-Two

A
LEXANDRA
handed Colin a foil packet containing a Thrust condom.

“What’s this?”

Alexandra wrinkled her forehead. “Whaddya mean, ‘what’s this?’”

“Okay, I know what it is.”

Suddenly a light came on in Colin’s brain. “You’re not, not….”

“No, I’m not, and I don’t want to be, not yet anyway. Besides, if I were, they wouldn’t be much use now.
I just think we should start using them.”

Relieved, Colin readily agreed. “Not a problem.”

C
OLIN
lay on Alexandra’s still heaving breasts. On the bedside table, the crumpled condom packet caught his eye. The brightly stamped foil seemed to wink at him. He closed one eye and squinted at the shiny logo. “Thrust For Lust.”

“I wonder who writes that stuff?” he said, laughing.

“What?”

“The logo on the condoms. I said I wonder who writes those things.”

“Probably some ad guy in New York who never used one,” Alexandra said. “They don’t smell very good, do they?” she added.

“No, sorta like rubber scented
Vaseline
… Zan?”

“What?”

“Did it feel okay?”

Oh brother, here we go again!
she thought.

“It was
fine,
Colin! I thought we had this conversation already. You do just fine, no complaints, okay?”

“I didn’t mean that. I was wondering if it felt different when I was inside you.”

“Oh, that. Yeah… a little, I guess. How about you?”

Colin crinkled his face.

“Umm, I didn’t like it. I couldn’t feel as much as before,” he complained. “It’s sorta like taking a shower in a raincoat. I wonder if it’s supposed to feel like that, or if there are better ones.”

Alexandra said, “Well, these are ultra-thin. It says so right on the box!”

“Compared to what, a truck tire?”

“Fine, next time you buy ’em,” she said in a huff.

“Okay, I will.”

“Fine!”

The dynamics of sex confused Colin. He sensed their relationship had changed somehow. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he even expected it would, and yet he was baffled.

Why can’t I just say what I’m thinking without her arguing back?

“Zan, are you mad at me?” Colin asked meekly.

Alexandra rolled onto her side facing Colin. She ran her tongue across his pulsing throat and purred, “Not anymore.”

I don’t understand any of this!

Twenty-Three

J
AN
sat at the head of the table in The Templars of Law Grand Conference Room.
It was the annual all-staff meeting. This morning, he would name the firm’s new partners, as well as those who had elected to retire. It was here, too, where newly hired associates were welcomed. Tradition dictated the large room be used for this particular event only, a once-a-year extravagance that awed Jan’s employees. Also, true to tradition, Jan conducted the entire meeting without speaking a word.

Around the long ebony conference table sat more than fifty men and women, who through talent and longevity achieved the coveted rank of partner. Behind them sat the attorneys’ paralegal assistants, many of whom hoped to become legal eagles in their own right.

At precisely eleven o’clock, Jan nodded to Marsha Betterman, office manager and self-styled grand marshal of the meeting. She handed Jan a leather-bound folio with the names of the select. Jan opened his copy and nodded to his assembled staff members, who in turn opened the folders before them. Each saw at a glance his status within the firm, his salary, and any bonus awarded, along with a detailed growth plan for future advancement. Jan always ensured everyone a piece of the pie, whether in the form of cash or a promotion.

After a pause, Jan closed his folder, handed it to Marsha, and stood to leave. The assembled staff stood and applauded.

Back in his office, Jan turned to Marsha, who had followed him.

“You know, that’s the weirdest meeting. I wonder why we still do it.”

Marsha rolled her eyes and laughed.

“Beats me, but all the corporate minutes say that’s how it’s been done since, well, since forever.”

“Do you think I could change it?” he said.

“Are you asking if I think you
could
change it, or if I think you
should
change it?” Marsha said.

“Both.”

“Yes to the first and no to the second.”

“Why not?”

“Because it works. The whole affair adds mystique to the place, a sense of history. Everywhere I go, it’s the same stale corporate atmosphere. Even the smaller firms are depersonalized.”

“Yeah… but it’s still weird,” Jan said.

Marsha laughed again.

“Weird or not, it works, and we have drawers full of résumés to prove people want to work for you.

Jan headed to his desk in the center of the plush office, then stopped and looked down at the thick antique carpet that stretched across the room. Jan studied the carpet’s intricately woven hunting scene while he pondered what she had said.

Marsha, too, had something on her mind, and it wasn’t as trivial as letting people speak in the Grand Conference Room. She had decided she would tell Jan about Alexandra, and her involvement with his son. She moved to the dry bar and picked up a bottle of scotch.

“How about a drink?” she said.

Always one with her nose to the grindstone, Marsha’s out-of-character offer instantly
caught
Jan’s attention. He narrowed his eyes as he searched her face.

“I don’t drink before one in the afternoon. You know that. Are you trying to get me drunk?” Jan accused. “Or did I just give away money the firm hasn’t got? Marsha, what’s going on?”

Marsha’s tone turned serious.

“No,” she said, “the company’s fine, but we do need to talk, and I just thought a little libation would make for a nicer conversation. That’s all.”

“My God, Marsha! You’re leaving!”

Marsha let out an unhappy laugh.

“No, I’m not leaving. This has nothing to do with work.”

Jan walked to the camelback sofa that faced the broad, arched Palladian window, and stretched out in a languid pose.

“Okay, let’s have it. Speak to me,” he said lightheartedly.

“Jan, you remember my daughter, Alexandra, don’t you?”

“Of course, I remember her from last year’s company picnic. As I recall, she chased a boy twice her size around the softball field with an aluminum bat! The kid later confessed he tried to kiss her. I think he got a rude introduction to how dangerous love can be!” Jan joked, still wondering where this conversation was going.

“Yeah, well, she’s a year older, and she caught a boy with just batting her eyelashes. No hardware needed.”

“Marsha, this is all very interesting, but is it news I can use?”

“I don’t know any easy way to tell you this, so I’ll just say it. My Alexandra,
Zan
, and your son, Colin, have been dating.”

Jan swung his legs around and sat up.

“Marsha, it’s okay. I gave Colin permission to date. I just didn’t make the connection. I always heard you refer to her as Alexandra. I will say I was surprised that her parents hadn’t contacted me to see what kind of family he comes from, but I guess you have that information already. Do you have a problem with her seeing my son?”

“I don’t, but you might,” Marsha said.

“Why?” Jan asked suspiciously.

“I found out by accident that they had sex. I expect they’re still at it.”

Jan’s face registered a look of dumb shock, like that of a sacrificial ox someone had bashed in the head with a fuller’s club.

He swallowed hard, then said, “Scotch, double. No ice.”

Marsha knew her boss and usually knew what he needed before he knew it himself.

“Here,” she said, handing him the tawny beverage.

Jan took a long sip. The smoky liquor, hot with the fires that made it, burned his throat.

“What do you mean they’re having sex?” he asked, breathless from his drink and the unbidden image of his son engaging in what early sexologists euphemistically referred to as
coitus more ferarum.

“What do I mean? Jan, you do remember straight sex, don’t you?”

“Ah, yeah, but I was kinda hoping you were talking about a different kind I hadn’t heard of yet—like, when nothing really happens.”

Marsha plopped down bedside her boss. She stared blindly out the window and
took a sip of scotch.

“Dream on,” she said.

“What are we going to do?” he asked, hoping Marsha would have already formulated a plan of action.

She gave a short laugh.

“Nothing. This is the moment I’ve dreaded since she turned thirteen. I’ve expressed my misgivings to Zan about the two of them having sex at such a young age,
and
I warned her about using protection. These days it’s simply a fact of life that we, as parents, have to deal with. It probably wasn’t much different when we were young. I don’t know. Anyway, there’s not much more we can do other than fitting them both with chastity belts.”

“Yes,” Jan muttered absently, his mind still trying to get around the whole idea.

“It’s all very stressful, and there’s more,” Marsha added.

Jan’s heart began to race.
Oh boy, here it comes! “
What do you mean more?” Jan said.

Twenty-Four