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by Marty Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Family · #1355244
Jim goes home for Thanksgiving break. This is his first trip home since meeting Jenny.
                                    I Wish I Could Take You Home With Me
                                                                                            Marty Livingston
         Jim and Jenny lingered in bed ignoring the clock radio.  Jim watched Jenny

trying to stay asleep a bit longer.  He stroked her hair and leaned into the curve of

her neck.  He breathed in deeply.  “Your neck is one of my favorite parts.  I love to

just inhale you this way.”
         
        Jenny purred and began to stir.  “I would love to pull you inside me again, but

we have to get up and get to classes. Sometimes I think that I am the only serious

student here.  You could play all day and never study.”
         
        “Is that a complaint?’
         
        Jenny laughed.  “Not really.  I love it.  I love the way we are together.  I can’t

believe it has only been a few months.  It feels like we have always been together. 

It’s great when you sleep over, but we don’t get much work done when you do.”
         
        “When I go back to my dorm I just think about you anyway.  I imagine the

curve of your hips and your silken legs.  I haven’t been studying much.  Once I get

back from Thanksgiving break I intend to really take classes seriously.”
         
          “Jim, do you realize that this is the first stretch of more than one night that

we won’t be together?  I will miss you.”
         
            Jim reached over and tickled Jenny.  “You could come home with me.  I

really wish I could take you with me.”
         
            “Am I a trophy to take home and show off?  I’m not sure I like that.”
         
            Jim stiffened a bit and took a more serious tone.  “Sure I want to show my

family that I have a fabulous and gorgeous girlfriend.  But that isn’t at all what I am

feeling.  Going home is a bit unnerving.  Since we’ve been together I feel like a

different guy.  I’m not so sure that I will still be that guy when I am with my mother

and the others.”
         
          “How are you different with me?”
         
            “I feel very different.  I feel like I have things to say, that I can be sexy

and alive.  At home I’m a gentleman.  My stepfather has a favorite family picture

on the living room wall.  He loves that picture of his family.  He’s so proud of it.  In

the picture everyone is smiling.  My stepbrother is standing next to me beaming

like the others.  He is wearing a colored polo shirt that he fills out pretty well.  I am

wearing a white undershirt.  My shoulders are drooping.  The expression on my

face is not at all like the others.  I look at that picture and I see a skinny, weak kid

who doesn’t belong.  I hate that picture and I hate the way my step father loves it

and shows it off.”
         
          Jenny put her arms around Jim and held him for a moment.  Jim held back

tears.  “I just would feel very different if you were with me.  I could be different.”
         
          “I can’t go with you Jimmy.  It’s much too soon for me to meet your family. 

Besides that, Daddy would be upset if I didn’t come home to Charleston for the

holiday.”
         
            “I know that Jenny.  I’m just wishing that I could take you anyway.”
         
            “Hey, Jim, it’s getting late.  We’d better get out of here quick or we won’t

get to class.”
         

              “I’d rather just stay here with you than go to some dumb biology class.”
         
            “That’s what I meant before.  We have to be more serious about classes.”
         
              After one more passionate embrace Jim got up and began to get ready

for class.  “Okay, okay, I get the message.  Let’s get to class.”
         
              “The next day Jim was on a train heading back to New York.  He had

books with him intending to study, but couldn’t really concentrate.  He spent most

of the trip imagining being in bed with Jenny and feeling great.  Gradually though

his images began to include his mother’s disapproving face.  It didn’t make any

sense to be remembering this scene at that moment, and that bothered Jim, but as

he dozed he pictured himself at his desk writing.  Jim loved to write.  Even as a

youngster he wrote stories and sent them in to contests.  Once he even sold a

story to a magazine called Open Road for Boys. 
         
          The image that kept coming up on his internal screen was a time when he

wanted to keep writing and his mother insisted he go run an errand.  It was his little

brother’s birthday and Jim was supposed to pick up the cake for his party. 
         
          “Jim, you have to go right now.  You need to get the cake and have it back

here for the party.  I’ve been asking you to go for a while. You say okay, but are

still at your desk writing.  I want you to go right now.”
         
        “I’m writing Ma.  Can’t you see?  I’m busy writing right now?”
         
        “That doesn’t make any sense Jim.  You can write later.  Go to the store and

get the cake right now.”
         
        “Okay Ma, okay.  I’m going.”  Jim got up and took a couple of steps towards

the door.  As his mother turned to leave he went back to the desk to put down a

few last ideas.
         
          “What is so important about what you are writing Jim?  Can you explain why

you need to disobey me and make me yell?”
         
            “It is very important Ma.  It will clarify very important issues.”
         
          “There is no reason it can’t wait.  Go now!”
         
          Jim got up to go and then when his mother wasn’t looking, went back and

took the pad and pencil with him.  He kept writing as he walked to the bakery.  His

pulse raced with the revealed knowledge he was channeling.  “Mother would never

understand,” he said as if someone was listening and taking in the import of his

creation.  He made a wrong turn and kept writing.  An hour later he was still writing

and suddenly remembered the cake.  As he eventually got to the bakery, he ran

out of paper.  He found an empty bag to write on and continued.
         
            Then he suddenly tensed up.  His pulse was racing, but no longer with an

excitement about his creation.  His shoulders tightened.  He was scared.  He

squeezed the pencil in his hand as tightly as he could.  “I better not let go of this

pencil,” he explained to whoever he thought was listening.  “This pencil is my hold

on sanity.”  At that moment, he looked up and saw his mother’s face.  It had that

horrible expression of rage and disgust.  Her mouth was the most terrifying part. 

She seemed about to pounce and pull him apart with her teeth.  “I can’t be crazy

he told his adoring audience.  My mother would be disgusted with me.  She would

kill me if I was crazy.”
         
              That terrifying yet sobering thought seemed to calm the excitement.  Jim

picked up the cake and headed home.  He was no longer afraid of going crazy.  His

shoulders drooped.  His whole body seemed to go limp.  He saved his notes for

some future time, but no longer felt like writing just then.
         
                Boy, that’s a strange memory to be thinking of as I head home.  It

doesn’t make much sense, he thought to himself.
         
            A few short hours later Jim was opening the back door as he had done so

many times before.  He came into the kitchen and called out.  “Hey Mom, I’m

home.” 
         
            Jim’s mother came running down the steps from the upper floor and into

the kitchen.  She threw her arms around him and squeezed.  “I’m so excited.  My

son is home.  It’s so great to see you.”
         
            Jim was always confused by that squeeze.  She’s certainly excited to see

me, he thought, but somehow there’s something I want that’s not there.  She

doesn’t smell like Jenny.  Not the least bit.  He quickly dismissed those thoughts

as unreasonable and began to make appropriate conversation.
         
            “It’s great to be home.  I missed you all.  Who is going to be here for

dinner?”
         
              “Your step father will be here later.  He had to check on something at the

store.  Maggie and Jay will be here soon and your little brother is out playing.  He

should be back shortly.”
         
          “What about the weasel? Will he be here?”
         
            “Your brother Stan will be here too.  Why do you call him that?  You have

no reason to be so angry with him.  I want the whole family to get along.  Please

be nice to him.  He’s your brother.”
         
            Jim bristled, but managed a more sociable response.  “Sure Ma, Stan and

I will stay in neutral corners.  No arguing to spoil your holiday.  Let me go wash up

and put my things away and I’ll be right down.”
         
          “You’ll be staying in the screened in porch.  We made it into a guest

bedroom.  Okay?”
         
            Jim pulled back to get his bearings.  He knew not to pry, but of course

wondered, Who is using my old room?  His mother read his expression.  Then, in a

casual manner, she added, “Jack has been sleeping in your old room.”  Jim took

note that it was “Jack,” not Daddy as she often referred to his stepfather.
         
        “Oh,” Jim said taken by surprise.  He didn’t push for more information at all. 

He thought to himself, Boy, she sends me off to an out of town college in order to

get me out of the way so she can work out her marriage and now, three months

later, the guy is out of the bedroom.  I can’t say that I’m sorry.
         
        The next thing Jim knew everyone was seated around the table in the formal

dining room.  He had always hated that room.  When he was growing up meals

were usually served in the kitchen.  There was a small cozy table there and he

could recall lots of warm chats with his mother over milk and cookies or lunch.  On

occasions, the whole family gathered around the formal dining room table.  There

was no coziness and no chatting with Mom.  Instead, Jim’s memories of the dining

room were of cold empty meals where no one seemed to listen.
         
        This Thanksgiving dinner felt like all the others.  Jim sat there as people

exchanged pleasantries.  He tried to sit up straight and splashed some cold water

on his cheeks to try to perk up, but he found himself slouching in his chair as he

looked down at his plate.  I wish Jenny were here, he thought. 
         
          He looked across the table to see his brother sitting there with his usual

grin.  “How have you been Jim?" Stan asked with an obligatory formality.

          I guess he can’t stand me any more than I like him, Jim thought. “ I’ve been

fine. School is good.  How is being a high school senior?”

          “Okay I guess.”

          “Tell your brother Jim how well you are doing.” Mother prodded.

            “I am dating three different girls.  Being a senior is a big advantage.  Are

you getting any?”

        Jim bristled and ducked the question.  He had no idea how to answer that.  It

was as if he and Stan lived in two different universes.  “I made the freshman

basketball team.  It's a strong team and I probably won’t be a starter, but it feels

good to be on the team.”

          Maggie chimed in.  “It must be frustrating to not be a starter.”  Jay and I

have both been doing very well.  Jay is going to teach at Hunter College in the

spring.”

            “I felt really good to be chosen, to be part of the team.”

          “Sure, but not being a starter must feel lousy,” Jay added.

            Jim felt his body go limp except for his arms, which tightened up.  “I guess

so, but you don’t get it.  It is great to be on the team.  It’s a strong team and

maybe I can belong to it.”  He raised his arms in exasperation.

      “Well basketball is just a game anyway,” his mother added.  “Jay is going to

teach at Hunter College.  We have a professor in the family. “

        At this point, not only did Jim feel his body go limp, he so lost touch with his

body that he wasn’t sure he had one.  He tried to remember what it was like to be

with Jenny, what his whole body felt like, what an erection felt like.  It was a

struggle, but he managed to call up Jenny’s image on his internal screen and it

helped some.

          “I am so glad to have you all home for Thanksgiving,” his mother continued. 

“Let’s go around the table and say what we are each thankful for.”

            “That’s corny Ma,” Jim complained.  No one paid attention to that and they

all began to recite the things they were thankful for.

              It all felt like nonsense to Jim as he again stared at his plate hoping to

avoid laughing at their attempts to outdo each other.  “I am grateful for my husband

Jay and for a wonderful family to come home to for the holiday,” Maggie began. 

Stan was, “Thankful for the wonderful meal and for having my wonderful parents to

live with.” 

            Jim couldn’t help muttering, “Wonderful this and wonderful that. 

Everything is wonderful.  Everyone is wonderful.  Sure.  Get real you guys.”  He

said it just low enough that it could be ignored, but he knew they heard him.  Then

his mother piped up.  “Can’t you just be a gentleman James?  What are you

thankful for?”

        “I’m thankful to be away at school he began.  I hated it at first because I

didn’t like being sent away, but now I’m glad to be there.”

          “No one sent you away Jim.  It was what was best,” Mother interrupted.

            “Best for you maybe.  Anyway, let me finish.”  Jim hesitated and then

blurted out, “I’m thankful for Jenny.”

            “Jenny?” his mother exclaimed.  “And who is Jenny?”

              “Jenny is a wonderful girl that I met at school.  I think I’m in love with

her.”

              “Nonsense.  It isn’t reasonable to be in love so fast.  You hardly know

this woman.”

                  “Ma, I love her.  I feel good with her.”

                  “You’re not sleeping with her are you?” she said leaning in his direction

and flashing a look of disdain that only she could do so effectively.

Jim began to fade.  He felt as if he were that skinny 14 year old who had to

behave.  Then he thought about Jenny again and how different he felt when he was

close to her.  He conjured up an image of lying next to her in bed and his whole

body began to come alive.”

              “If you are sleeping with her you’d better use protection.  We don’t want

her getting pregnant and your ending up dropping out of school.  I thought I raised

you to be more respectful.”

              “Ma, you raised me to be a perfect gentleman.  That’s what you wanted.” 

It’s not what Jenny wants, he said to himself.  He was sitting up tall at this point

and could feel his fists tense.  “I am respectful of Jenny.  You’re the one who is

insulting and disrespectful.”

            "You aren’t making any sense James.  Pull yourself together and we can

talk this out.”

            “You just don’t get it Ma.  You don’t get me at all.  I’m not your little

gentleman anymore.  I’m a man and I love this woman.  Can’t we just leave it at

that?”

          “I need to know that you are being sensible.  We need to talk.”

          “You need to shut up and see that Jenny makes me happy.”

          “You shouldn’t expect a girl to make you happy.  Anyway, that is just your

lust talking.  You don’t know this girl at all.”

            “Ma, leave it be.  Leave me alone.  I’m sorry that I said anything about

Jenny.  And stop looking at me as if you were going to bite me.  Stop giving me

that disgusted look and those raised eyebrows like I’m some creature you can’t

stand.”

            “I’m your mother. In front of the whole family you are talking to me like

this?  I don’t deserve this.  And what look?  I am not giving you any look and I

certainly never bit you or treated you like an animal.”

              “I said creature Ma.  Like I was from Mars.  Not animal.”

                “Creature? Animal?  What’s the difference?  You aren’t making any

sense.  Is this what this woman brings out in you?”

              “Drop it Ma.  Leave me alone.  Don’t push it.”

                  “I’m not pushing anything.  You’re the one who is insulting and

pushing.  You’re the one who needs to apologize and behave.  I’m your mother.  I

don’t deserve any of this unreasonable crap.  Take a breath now.  Calm down and

try to make sense of this.  You don’t have any reason to say all these things.  You

talked like this  before.  You were always a gentleman with me.  Stop this!”

                In his mind, Jim kept holding onto Jenny.  He kept his body alive.  He

wasn’t going to back down.  Yet at the same time he was terrified.  “I don’t want to

hurt you Ma.”

              “So, now you are threatening your own mother?  Who are you?”

                “I’m your angry son.  I’m just furious.  My fists are clenched.  I am so

tight.  My whole body is tied in knots.  If you were anyone else in the world I would

slug you. “

            “What?  What are you talking about?”

            Jim tried to pull back, but he kept hearing “Be a gentleman.  You don’t

make sense.  You have no right to be angry.”  He could feel forbidden words in his

gut and he feared that if he let them out the world would never be the same again. 

He would wipe her out, demolish her.  She would die just like his father did when he

was a little angry boy.  He choked on the words and tried to hold them back. 

              Then she said “gentleman” and “reasonable” one time too many and the

dreaded words came spilling out.

            Jim exploded. “I hate you.  I hate you so much.  I hate the way you tell me

to behave.  I hate your not getting me.  I hate you, hate you.”

He glared directly into his mother’s eyes.  She didn’t look away.  She met his gaze

directly and Jim was totally surprised by what he saw.  He did not know what to

make of it.  She wasn’t demolished.  She was not glaring back with hate in return. 

She seemed to be looking deep into his soul and standing there. 

            Jim collapsed in a flood of tears.  His whole body shook with a sobbing

from way inside.  The whole room was silent.

            When he looked up at his mother, she was crying too.  She reached over

and took his hand.  It didn’t make any sense.  She wasn’t dead.  She looked at him

with a softness in her eyes that he vaguely remembered from the happy days

before his father died.  “I love you Jimmy.  I’m so sorry, so very sorry.” The family

remained silent.  Jim couldn’t make sense out of it, but it felt very good.


              The moment couldn’t last.  Maggie interrupted the silence to ask, “Well

are we all ready for dessert?”  The moment was gone, but Jim knew that he had

another image to play over and over again on his internal screen.  There was the

image of Jenny’s loving eyes, her purring, her excited expression of pleasure in

him. Then there was that monstrous image of his mother’s disgust and fury, and

now there was this new sense of a vaguely remembered softness in his mother’s

eyes and her words, “I love you Jimmy.  I’m sorry.”  He couldn’t really understand

what they meant.  They seemed to come from another lifetime, but he knew that

he wouldn’t ever forget them again.  That somehow made a difference.


         



         

© Copyright 2007 Marty (mlivingston at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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