.. BOY!" He said the last word like it was the worst curse he could bestow.I heard pounding and rushed into the bathroom, to find him hitting themirror with every bit of force he had cracking it. Then, like a puppetwhose strings had been cut, he collapsed to the floor and wept.I gathered him into my arms and held him tight."Please. Tell me what's wrong," I said."Daddy..." he said with a sob. "Make him go away. He's ... wrong."He was pointing at his own reflection in the cracked mirror.I had no idea what to say to that, so I just held him, rocking him, andstroking his hair, like I had when he was a baby.He quieted, and I got him up, took him to his room, helped him undressand tucked him into bed. I looked around the room, and suddenlyrealized how atypical it was for a teen boy's room. In fact, it was likeit had no personality, nothing in it that said anything about theoccupant at all.I did something I hadn't done since he was old enough to clean his ownroom, and that was to go. There were no significant glances between his wife and myself but I felt evil, dirty, guilty, and like a conspirator. I never had any secrets with my friend before – he even knew my pin number. Now, this was a huge wedge. When I drove home that night all I could think of was what I had done. It was so wrong and yet it felt so fucking good the entire short time. I had rarely felt so fully satisfied. It was all I could think of for the next few days. And then, out of the blue, she called me. “we have to talk,” she said to me, and I didn’t have to ask what about. We agreed to meet at a coffee place near her house. As I drove to the coffee shop my heart was in my throat thinking she was going to say, “I’m pregnant,” though I knew it was too soon for her to know. When I got there, she was sitting at a table with coffee for both of us. I sat down in silence. It was awkward as hell.“I’ve never done anything like that before,” was the first thing she said. She didn’t need to explain, I knew.
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