“When a woman has sex with a man after dating for three months, she is saying she wants a commitment. Men know this, and dishonorable men act like it doesn’t matter. This guy was honorable enough to say ‘no’ to what he probably wanted very much, because he has a higher kind of commitment in mind.”
“That’s nuts,” I said, flatly.
“And you – because you probably suspected that he had this higher commitment in mind – got scared. It was easier to offer him sex than what he really wanted.”
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“Marriage,” she said simply.
This was all so crazy I needed a minute, but before I could answer, she was at it again.
“You know, sweetheart,” she said softly, “I regret a lot of things in my life but I think what I regret most was not passing the Faith down to you, like I learned it. But I was young and scared and after your father left the first thing I thought I needed was another man. I ran into the arms of men repeatedly, when I should have run into the arms of the Church.”
Again, I was too stunned to reply.
“And yes, I know that I have a lot to answer for,” she sighed, her voice filled with regret. “Instead of showing you the right way to live, I showed
you the wrong way. It’s a miracle that
you turned out as good as you have.”
With this, we both sat, in silence. I was struggling to keep my emotions under control.
“I am so, so sorry for what I put you through,” she said then, in a barely audible voice.
I nodded.
“Here you had no father, and a mother who was chasing men. You must have felt as if nobody really loved you.”
This was too much. Though I fought them furiously, the hot tears nevertheless welled up in my eyes and spilled down my face. I accepted the Kleenex she offered me, and blew my nose. But that didn’t stop the tears. I began weeping, silently, my face contorted with grief, waves of deep wracking sobs over-taking me every time I thought the storm was over. All the while, my mother held me and patted my back.
Finally, my sobbing subsided. I accepted the glass of water she offered. I took a few sips. I began to breathe normally, but I still didn’t trust myself to speak.
“But God is good, honey,” she said tentatively, taking hold of my hand. “I think you may have found the other kind of guy who is attracted to women like us.”
“Y-Yeah?” It came out in a whisper.
REGINA | 66
REGINA Fiction