Grace Wilkinson - The family reunion book II

"Yeah… but we can't educate the whole world, Carrie," John replied. He was tired. Everything looked bleak to him. If he couldn't control his own family situation, his own demanding sexual appetites… how could he hope to influence anyone else?

"How's it been while I've been gone?" he asked.

"Quiet," Carrie answered. "Too quiet if you ask me. John… I think this whole idea of a reunion was a big mistake… we should have just had each couple up here separately… no one's getting along and…"

"Well obviously it was a mistake!" John growled. "But you're the one who made them all stay the last week instead of leaving when they wanted to! Now we'll just have to get through the next few days as best we can… won't we?"

Carrie was silent. She hadn't meant to arouse her husband's anger, and now it was to her advantage to remain silent. What was he planning on doing that afternoon, she wondered!

As if in answer to her thoughts, John suddenly rose and declared, "I'm going down to the bar. Those workmen are going to be here next week and I want to get it all set for them. Get Bonnie to make me some sandwiches… think I'll spend most of the day down there."

"Oh, that's a good idea, honey!" Carrie said. They were planning to have a big discotheque the next season, and there was much to be done to the large building that presently served as primarily a bar and dining room. "Bonnie's not coming until the week-end… but I'll make them for you myself, darling!" Carrie said, starting out toward the kitchen. She had told the young girl who often worked as their maid to come that week-end only, when she was planning several sumptuous meals. Meanwhile, the family could manage on their own.

She prepared two hearty roastbeef sandwiches on rye bread for her husband… humming as she worked. She added mayonnaise, pickle and onions and wrapped them up in saran-wrap. She was sure that Jamie would see things her way this time… and then she would have him back… forever!

A few hours later, Carrie sat propped up on her chaise longue with big expensively embroidered pillows behind her. She was secure in the knowledge that she would be alone with her son long enough at least to convince him that she needed him at home more than he was needed in New York.

When he entered her sitting room, Jamie once more felt himself getting annoyed, just by looking around at the way his mother had decorated. He hated her pretensions to glamour, and the large airy room reeked of it!

"Jamie!" she said, reaching her arms out toward him as she had seen so many movie heroines do before her! "Darling… come in… sit down!"

"Hello mother…" Jamie said. He carefully took the seat across from his mother, rather than the one directly next to the chaise.

"What am I doing here anyway?" he asked himself.

Before him on the low cocktail table were placed the makings for his favorite kind of martinis. A full bottle of Beefeater's Gin gleamed in the afternoon light, and the mixing pitcher stood ready.

Carrie leaned forward and began to prepare them. As she did, the slightly elasticized neckline of her pheasant blouse expanded enough so that it was clear to her son that she was not wearing a bra. He found himself bridling and sitting back stiffly in his seat.

Would he never get used to her? His mind reached back to all the times when as a boy, his mother had shocked him… fascinated him… taunted him with her strange attitudes, so much unlike other mothers.

Carrie handed him the frosty drink she'd prepared, and noticing her son's reaction, sat back demurely so that her breasts would not show.

"Oh, Jamie…" she began breathlessly. "I'm so glad you agreed to have this little chat…"

"Oh, Christ!" Jamie thought.

"Darling… I'll get right to the point. I know you like that…" Carrie was trying to use all her feminine intuition to win her son over. "I want to make you a proposition. I think we've all been under considerable strain recently… and I'd like to offer you my thoughts on at least one of the reasons why…"

Jamie knocked back the first martini. He maintained a neutral expression and purposefully said nothing, waiting for her to continue speaking. Meanwhile he looked her over carefully. Why did he have to be the one stuck with a mother like her… why couldn't he have had just a simple little old lady in a rocking chair? She was still beautiful, he thought… more beautiful than ever if anything! He was plunged into despair by her continuing youth. An ageless quality surrounded her that made him suspect that she was something kin to a witch.

He poured himself another stiff martini and cursed under his breath when he realized what his mother was getting at.

"And we need you…" she was saying. "This place is much too big for just the two of us to handle… and you know you can't trust anyone who works for you… its got to be someone in the family! You don't look happy, Jamie… I know you're not happy living there in New York… It's dog eat dog all the way… why you ever chose the advertising business I'll never know… and it's hurting Susan and poor little Nancy… Jamie, you've got to think of your family." She took a dainty sip of her martini and continued, her pearly lips glistening with the alcoholic liquid. "Now you and I both know that the only reason we had that little… uh, occurrence… the other day… was because we're not really ourselves… We've got to get ourselves together Jamie… and this is the way to do it. You can have your own house… John and I won't interfere with your family in any way… but Jamie… for heavens sake come back to Livingston's!"

"Fuck off, Mom!" Jamie glared angrily at his mother.

Carrie sat up abruptly. "Don't you dare talk to your mother like that!" Carrie exclaimed, the tendons of her neck standing out from the strain.

"Don't tell me you've never heard the word, 'fuck' before!" Jamie continued. His brain was whirring, he'd downed those drinks too fast. He'd intended to keep cool, and now it was too late… they were smack in the midst of a lulu of a fight!

Carrie jumped from her chaise and landed a resounding smack on Jamie's cheek. Jamie responded by grabbing hold of her hand and holding it so hard that Carrie began to shake.

"You bitch!" he yelled, stepping around the table and grabbing her by the arms. "You have the nerve to sit there like some prim little school girl and pretend that nothing much really happened between us… Well damn it, let me remind you… that you were fucked by your little baby boy… That's right, Mom… Not content with your own daughter's husband, you added me to your list!" Jamie was livid, his face had turned a deep scarlet and his eyes were mere slits of passion.

"And let me remind you my dear…" Carrie said levelly, staring up into her son's angry face. "That you crawled up and… as you so lewdly put it, fucked me from behind. I didn't ask you to after all!"

"Same ass!" Jamie yelled, pulling her closer to him.

"You screwing that creep Ike right there in front of me… and that obscene tape of you two right there on the TV screen! What do you think I'm made of!"

"I know what you're made of!" Carrie said defiantly, even though Jamie's fingers were hurting her arms… holding her so tightly she could feel the blood circulation being cut off. "I'm your mother remember?"

"You…!" Jamie's words were stopped by his mother's lips. Almost without thinking she kissed the taut lips that were about to curse her.

While it was happening, Jamie knew that he had lost again. His mother was too strong for him, and he was weak… much too weak!

John got thirsty and decided to go up to the house and get a beer to have with his sandwiches. He was pleased to have been able to spend the day alone, even though he knew that the various members of his family were about somewhere. He had spied Ike down by the swimming pool with Tricia and had steered clear of them. He had already messed with his daughter's life quite enough… and besides, he just couldn't stand the sight of her with her husband. It was much too painful.