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My mother, Anita, is standing at the sink, washing vegetables. She is wearing a pair of blue gym shorts and a white tank top t-shirt. I walk up behind her, and encircle her with my arms, sliding my hands under her t-shirt and holding her tummy. I kissed her softly on the back of her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of her perfume.“Butch!”” she murmured, “Your home early! I didn’t expect you for hours! ” I kissed her neck again and again, working my way back and forth across the soft white skin, enjoying her smell as my hands started roaming underneath the t-shirt. As I kissed at her right ear, she turned her head towards my mouth, and kissed me softly on the lips. As her tongue made it’s first dart of the evening into my anxious mouth, my hands glided up her torso, softly grazing her skin, until each hand was cupping a naked breast! Mom was not wearing a bra, and her breasts were hot to my touch!As we kissed, my fingers tweaked at her nipples, until Mom turned inside my arms, taking. I immersed myself in the work. Thank goodness for my work, it kept me from agonizing about the destruction of my marriage and my longing for Kim, at least during the day. The nights were hellish and my sleep was filled with dark dreams and "could have beens." Sometimes I would drink myself into oblivion and then let my anger rise to the surface. I would smash a few things against the wall and then pass out on the sofa. I wanted my wife back - not the one I had divorced, but the one I had met and married.Was Kim's infidelity at least partially my fault? Should I have stayed and tried to work things out? Was I being cowardly for running away? I had given those questions hours and hours of thought and I came to the realization that I wasn't that strong. I couldn't forgive her betrayal and I knew that I couldn't accept the child - the child that would always be a reminder of her adultery.What kept me on a reasonably sane path most of the time was the companionship and friendship of Ben.
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