The Coil (23 page)

His brows rose together sadly, and the teenager who had been thrown out by his mother wanted to shake her and make her see him. “I meant for what you did to me.” He spoke quietly.

“I
—
I know I should never have sought legal advice against you—”

“No!” he cried out unhappily. “No, Mom. For—” He looked away, biting off his words in fear that they would make him appear too vulnerable. “Christ. Do you even know how scared I was to be cut off by my mother, to know that you didn’t want me in your house anymore?”

A look of horror crossed her face, the lines around her mouth and eyes accentuated. Her hands crept across the table as she shook her head softly. “Simon,
no
, it wasn’t like that.”

“Don’t you tell me what it was like!”

“You were already going to college. Y-you were moving out into one of those dorms—”

“You made me get on that bus a week early. You were supposed to drive me down there, but you put me on a bus and you barely said a word. You didn’t even stay to watch the bus
leave
!” It was all coming out, and there wasn’t a thing he could do to stop it.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped, her head shaking from side to side. “I’m so sorry. I
—
I thought you’d change in college, that you’d grow out of it and then come home….”

“You took my home away from me!”

“No, never, Simon!”

“I’d call home and you’d pass the phone over to Carol-Ann without a word.” Damn it, he could feel his eyes stinging.

She closed her eyes tightly a moment, pulling her hands back when it was obvious Simon would not allow her touch. “I was just trying to show you how unhappy I was with your decision. I admit I was trying to punish you, but—”

“What
fucking
decision?”

“Simon, please! Don’t—”

“Let’s get one thing straight right now. Being gay is no more a choice than being straight is. Sexuality is not black and white. I did nothing wrong, and it was
you
that disappointed
me
.”

Her voice was almost breathless when she spoke. “Simon, believe me when I say I
know
that. I promise you I hold no illusions as to who failed who.”

“Then how could you let this carry on for so long?”

“No.” She shook her head firmly. “No, I’ve tried constantly to get in touch with you over the past few years.”

“To take my son away!”

She sighed, her shoulders drooping as she shook her head. “This is such a mess. I’ve made such a mess of things.”

A brief silence passed between them. They’d spoken more in the past five minutes than they had in the past three years, and it was a lot to take in. Simon swallowed. “Let me ask you this. Do—do I still disgust you?”

She was quiet for a good ten seconds, as if taking time to choose her words, and for a horrifying moment, Simon was sure she would say yes.

“All right.” She nodded, straightening her posture. “All right, now I want to get this right, I want you to understand what I’m trying to say. I did not like that you were gay, and….” She looked him in the eye apprehensively, “and I still don’t, Simon. I don’t like it.”

He felt something inside shrivel up. God, he’d actually thought there was a chance of making things right. But not now, not with her still feeling he was doing something utterly immoral and disgust—

“Simon,” she said sharply, interrupting his chain of thought. He swallowed hard and couldn’t bring himself to move when she pulled her chair around the table. “Don’t do that. You did that as a boy—you went off somewhere in your head when you were unhappy. You can’t do that right now. I need you to listen to me.”

“Go on,” he whispered, feeling resigned.

She took a steady breath and let it out slowly. “Back when you were just a boy? When you told me? All I could think about were all the things that would be taken away from you. No marriage, no children. All I could see was how hard you would have to fight. All I could see was the way people were going to look at you, speak to you—”

“Like how
you
looked at me?”

She closed her eyes. “Yes.” She grasped his hand and wouldn’t let go when he tried to pull away. “I know how hypocritical that sounds now.”

“Don’t pretend that you were just worried about me. You were genuinely disgusted by the idea of homosexuality.” He wanted the truth if they were really going this far.

“I
—
I didn’t like it. I couldn’t picture you with a man. Two men together just….” She shook her head. “It was just odd. It was embarrassing.”

“
God,
” Simon hissed, yanking his hand away.

“No, Simon, Simon!” She gripped his arm and tugged until he reluctantly sat back down. “I was being shortsighted. If—if I’d have known what my reaction would entail, please believe me when I say I would have done things differently.”

“You can’t just change your mind.”

“No, I can’t.”

He could feel a bitter twist to his mouth forming. “And you never even tried to become a part of my life again until Jamie. I stopped existing for you.”

“Now that is
not
true,” she said firmly, and for a moment she sounded like his mother again, scolding him for talking back at her. “You cut me off just as much as I did you.”

He yanked himself out of her grip and stood, needing the distance. “Oh,
please
.”

“You hear people go on about tolerance, understanding, and patience. Where was your understanding and patience, Simon?”

He was afraid his mouth was gaping. “You have to be joking. You’re my
mother
. You’re supposed—”

“Yes, I know that! I know I failed, Simon. I was a bad mother, and I pushed you into college and away from me. But what about afterward? I tried, Simon, I tried to talk to you, but you’d become so cold to me.”

“Can you blame me?” he scoffed.

“Not one damn bit! But you say ‘how could I’? Well, I’m your mother. Why was it so easy for you to cut
me
out? Because I’ll tell you this, the way I treated you?” She slashed her hand through the air. “The biggest regret of my life. But I’m willing to back down, to grovel if need be, because I would give anything to be back in your life. But you? You wouldn’t hear it back then, before I so
stupidly
….” She screwed her eyes closed tight for a moment. “Before I so stupidly tried to take that boy away from you. You had cut
me
off. And maybe I deserved that, but the difference between us is that I couldn’t keep up with it. I can’t live without my son in my life!”

She was shaking now, both with fury and fear. “Where was
your
understanding, Simon? No matter how underserved. I tried to apologize, but back then? You didn’t even give me a chance to understand you being gay.”

“Y-you hurt me too deep.”

“And I am so, so sorry. My God, I am. But am I wrong in thinking that as much as you deserved my patience and understanding, that
I
deserved the same in return? Please, can you grasp that?”

Simon raked his hands through his hair. He couldn’t deny that she had a point.

“I just needed time, time to understand and wrap my head around the whole thing,” she said.

“To ‘understand’? You just said you still don’t like that I’m gay!”

“Simon,” she spoke tiredly. “I’m an old woman set in her ways—”

“Don’t give me that. I
hate
that. As if anyone over the age of fifty gets a free pass when it comes to being a bigot.”

“I am trying to be completely honest with you. Seeing two men—or two women together, for that matter—it makes me uncomfortable. It looks strange to me.”

“So why are we even talking, if nothing’s changed?”

She stood and strode over to where he leaned against the counter. “Because now I can see that my feelings on the matter will make no difference. I know that’s it simply something you are, and that just because I don’t like it, does
not
make it wrong.”

He felt like an open target; he felt exposed. “But you still don’t like me, Mom.” He swallowed at how feeble and vulnerable he sounded, and closed his eyes when he felt her small hand touch his cheek.

“You’re dead wrong about that. I love you. Open your eyes. Look at me.”

He did as he was told.

“I love you up to the sky and back. And however I might feel about your homosexuality? That’s my problem to get over. There is nothing wrong with you, and I have been a terrible mother to you.”

“Mom,” he whispered, fighting the urge to lean into the hand against his cheek.

“We had such a great little family, you, Carol-Ann, and me. And I ruined it, didn’t I?”

He tried to turn his head away, but she pulled him back to face her. “Answer me. Tell me everything you’ve ever wanted to say to me.”

“Yes,” he whispered. “You split us all up. I felt like an orphan.”

She closed her eyes, but she didn’t move away, she didn’t take her hand away from his cheek. “I’m so sorry,” she choked out. “I am so, so sorry, Simon.”

He bit his lip. “Can I say something else?”

“Go on.”

“I’m afraid you’ll hurt Jamie.” He hurried to explain when she lowered her hand, a deep frown marring her brow. “What you saw today was nothing. I’m worried that once you see him on a really bad day when he’s been unsettled by something—when he’s screaming and rolling on the floor and trying to slap himself—I’m worried you’ll be disgusted with him for being different, like you were with me.”

“Oh no,” she whispered, her breath hitching. She shook her head sadly. “I can’t believe I did this to you.”

“You abandoned me.” Alarmed by the hot streak against his cheek, he quickly wiped at it with the heel of his hand.

“You only thought I had. I promise you I was always thinking about you. Always.”

“What if you’re just saying all this to get to Jamie?” He didn’t care if he sounded exposed or childish; they were way past keeping up appearances now.

“Simon, if I have to keep away from Jamie to prove to you that I am sorry and that I want you back more than I can possibly say, then I will. I will never try to be a part of his life again, if it means I can be a part of yours.”

“Don’t play with me. If this is some trick, then—”

She pulled him into her arms, holding him tight and rocking him in a way that, although he hadn’t felt it in years, was immediately familiar to him. “Oh, Simon,” she cried. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

Unable to do anything but, he completed the hug. He felt no shame as warm tears trickled down his cheeks when she brushed his hair away from his face, as if to get a good look at him after being denied the sight of him for so long.

“I, well….” He cleared his throat. “Okay.”

“Okay?” she asked quietly.

“Okay. We can talk about Jamie now.”

T
HEY
wasted no time at all. This guy who hadn’t even gone so far as to offer a name had merely sat himself on the sofa, beer in hand, and sneered at him while unzipping his pants. Now Mattie was on his knees, his eyes closed, and his mouth full as a complete stranger used him.

He honest to God felt like crying. The grip in his hair was too tight, the slap against his chin with every thrust, along with the loud grunt above him, drowned out any sound from the TV. He didn’t want to do this anymore. In fact, at that exact moment, he didn’t want to
live
anymore.

“
Fuck
,” the deep voice above him growled before moving to perch on the edge of the sofa to gain more leverage as his thrusts passed unkind and became brutal.

The tight grip on his hair was bringing tears to his eyes, and he could feel himself beginning to gag. He gripped at the guy’s thighs hard to try and silently convey this and received nothing but a hard yank at his hair in response.

“Don’t you dare fucking stop—
ah
! Shit, yeah!”

Please just come. Just finish and get off of me.
He couldn’t take much more. A particularly hard piston into his mouth made him cry out—as much as he could—around the solid flesh down his throat. And just like that, he was past the point of trying to get on with it. There was no keeping up a natural façade now. He was struggling and pounding against the guy’s thighs with his fists.

“You. Fucking.
Bitch
!” The john ground out between thrusts, and then finally, he was coming. He grunted and lost his rhythm as his hips stuttered and flexed unevenly against Mattie’s jaw.

He tried to pull away from where his face was pressed against the guy’s hip and could feel the grip in his hair relaxing, when he gasped in shock as a liquid—beer, judging by the smell—trickled down over his head. There couldn’t have been much left in the bottle, but it was in his eyes, blinding him when he already felt suffocated. The john laughed.

“Fucking slut. That’s what you are, hey?” he panted, tucking himself back in. “Little whore. You like being a come-dumpster, you little bitch? Like sucking dick for cash? You subhuman piece of shit.”

Before he could even respond with a well-deserved “fuck you,” the air whooshed straight out of his lungs when a booted foot wedged itself into his stomach with shocking force. He’d never felt anything like it, the deep, cramp-like pain that stole his breath and vibrated through his entire body.

“You’re not getting a fucking dime out of me. Not for that piss-poor blowjob. You’re disgusting, hear me? Fucking disgusting.”

Mattie’s head was being yanked up again by the hair, but he couldn’t even cry out or begin to stand. He gasped for breath and closed his eyes in shock when the guy’s face loomed close to his. The john spat in his face.

“Get the fuck out of here.”

He tried to stand to ease the searing sting in his scalp as he was more or less dragged to the front door. When the door slammed behind him, it took him a moment to realize that the grip in his hair was gone and he was out in the hallway of the apartment block. Still gasping for breath and wiping at his face, he scrambled to his feet, stumbling as he tried to rush.