FOR THE LOVE OF FAMILY

Sitting in near darkness, I could only make out the shapes of all the picture frames that were on the walls of the living room. Some were family photos of my father, mother and siblings. One was a photo of my parents on their wedding day. One was my graduation photo from university a couple of years ago. A couple were pictures from vacations we'd taken together as a family.

The large television was attached to the wall. There was a bookshelf and a couple of other shelving units. A large three-seat couch, a small two-seat lounge, and two armchairs. I'd taken a position in one of the armchairs, only a small lamp providing any illumination from its position between the two armchairs.

Checking my phone, it was nearly midnight. I had no idea where my father was though I could take a guess. My opinion of the man was incredibly low. My younger sisters were both out enjoying themselves having recently turned nineteen. Neither was in a relationship so were likely out with their friends, enjoying some drinks and dancing. They were always sensible when on a night out.

It was after midnight when I heard a key in the door, waiting until my mother had closed it behind her. I heard the click of her heels on the hardwood floor. She stopped for a moment as she would have noticed my presence in the armchair.

"Don't turn on the light," I ordered.

"William? What are you doing here? Why are you sitting in the dark?"

Good question. I'd made sure my face wasn't illuminated by the lamp, otherwise, she'd see how angry I was straight away. "Take a seat, Mum," I replied. Keeping my temper in check wasn't easy. I was angry because I was upset but mostly disappointed with what I'd been hearing. She was my mother...

"I'm going to get a drink and..."

I stood up and made sure I glared at her. Even in the darkness, I knew she would have seen the white of my eyes. "Sit. Down," I barked.

Seeing my mother jolt, it momentarily hurt my heart to scare her, but keeping a lid on my emotions wasn't easy. I could tell, even in the darkness, my mother was dressed to impress. I knew about the new behaviour. The nights out with her friends. Having to hear about such behaviour from my friends was embarrassing. But it was when I followed her myself and discovered what she was doing...

"I'm your mother," she tried to argue, "I will not..."

I stepped closer, ensuring she had to lift her head to meet my eyes. "Sit. Down. Mother," I spat, "Lest I just carry you over there and force your arse onto the seat."

She wasn't deaf or dumb. She could hear that I was barely keeping my anger in check. With a nod, she stepped to the side and carefully sat down, smoothing out her dress. Only then did I switch on the main light though dimmed it enough, so it wasn't too bright. Standing before her, she gazed up at me and her eyes were already glistening.

My mother looked sexy as hell. The little black dress left her shoulders bare, showed off her cleavage, and the hem barely reached her mid-thigh. I held out a hand. "Give me your handbag," I demanded.

She handed it over immediately, opening it up and I found what I wanted, taking out the black panties and threw them on the coffee table. "You're a married woman with three grown children and you're parading yourself out there with no panties on," I stated with disgust.

Searching even more, I found the condoms. It looked like a six-pack, somewhat relieved there were still six unused. I threw those on the table next to her panties. "Why are you carrying condoms around, mother?" I asked, "I know my father is shooting blanks now."

Mum couldn't meet my eyes. I heard the sniffle and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. "You wouldn't understand..."

"I understand enough, Mum," I retorted, grabbing the bag I'd kept next to the armchair. Opening it up, I retrieved the manila folder and opened it up. Placing down the first photo, I heard her gasp as she looked up at me in surprise. I said nothing as I placed down more photos, each worse than the last if you were to know that she was a married woman. "Oh, trust me, Mum, I understand plenty. I'm sure you've got more than one excuse already bubbling away in that mind of yours. I honestly thought stories I read were bullshit, all these 'girls' night out' and the shenanigans that apparently go on. Colour me surprised when I realised my own fucking mother was but one shining example that it's not all bullshit."

"Let me explain," she said softly, "You don't understand, William. You don't know the whole story."

"Then explain it to me then, Mum. Because I'm fucking pissed off right now, but worse than that, I'm embarrassed and disappointed that my mother, a married woman, would act in such a manner. Know where I got the first few photos from?" She shook her head. "From Mark. My best friend. He saw my own mother out with her friends on the verge of being intimate with men other than her husband." I pointed at the last few photos. "And then there are these. You were so busy the past five times you've been out that you didn't even notice your own son was occasionally within touching distance."

"It's not as bad as it seems. I'm not the bad person in all of this," she said softly.

"Have you had sex with them, Mum?" She shook her head. "Then why the condoms?"

"I wanted to! I'll admit that. I've gone out each night with the girls with the idea of finding another man to be with. I bought a six-pack of condoms, thinking a young man or two would be up to fuck me more than once." She actually blushed when she realised that she'd just admitted that to her own son. "But I've never gone the whole way. I'm too nervous, and part of me knows I'd be no better than your father if I followed through."

"What?" I asked, hearing the surprise in my own voice, "Mum, is he cheating on you?"

She sagged where she was sitting. "I don't know as I've never had any evidence, but I'm adamant he's been cheating on me for years," she whispered, wiping her cheeks again, "He's always been busy but it's worse than ever. Always working late. Going away to conferences and 'work events'. And the women that surround him are beautiful, and far younger than I am, and I've been to one work event with him. They fawn all over him and he just laps it up."

Sighing to myself, much of the anger disappeared though I stated, "You cheating on him doesn't make you any better than him, Mum."

"I know! But I'm so lonely with you gone and my daughters now at university and living their own lives. And with my husband rarely home..." Then she stopped and started to cry. All the anger disappeared, and I sat down next to her as she turned and sobbed into my chest. "I'm only forty-four, William. My life shouldn't be over now."

Stroking her back, she cried for a couple of minutes before she settled down, feeling her arms tighten around me. "I had no idea..."

"I'm not going to call my son and tell him all my problems with my marriage," she replied lightly, "But at least you do care if you're here now."

"I hated the idea that you were out there doing such things, Mum. It doesn't look good. I've heard whispers and comments from people we both know."

"I've only ever danced with other men, William."

"Kissing?"

Sighing, she nodded against my chest. "Okay, yes, there's sometimes a little kissing. I'll find myself aroused by a handsome man dancing with me and I get a little carried away."

"But nothing else?"

"Oh, they love to rub their erections against me," she said, giggling to herself, "But no, I haven't touched another man's junk. I go out with the girls, we'll have dinner and drinks, then find a place to dance. I won't drink too much more as I want to make sure I'm still completely aware. I don't let men buy me drinks as that's how you end up getting a date rape drug. We're always safe when going out, and we protect each other from creepy guys."

"What do you know about Dad?" I wondered.

Sighing, she hugged me tighter. "Can we talk about it tomorrow morning?" Leaning back, she met my eyes. "You can take your old room."

Standing up, I helped my mother to her feet, hugging each other again. I still didn't like what she was doing, and I knew we'd need to talk a lot more, but if my father was cheating on my mother, then I'd definitely be having some words with him as well. Leading her towards her bedroom, she sat on the edge of the bed, taking off her heels before rolling off her thigh-high stockings. Smiling at me as I leaned against the frame of the doorway, she said, "Watching your old mother get undressed?"

"Just making sure you're okay, Mum," I replied.

"Uh-huh. I'm thinking you want a dress show. I think you're seeing your old mother dressed up like this for the first time in a while and you like it."