I chose to ignore the look on her face. Everyone has a few regrets, right? I cleared my throat and continued, "It's not so easy for me to explain away." And how. I haven't had a sexual encounter since the first awkward fumbling at sixteen that didn't lead to a marriage proposal, suicide threat, or both. Usually both. Mom had put the soda down at some point and was trying to look relaxed. It wasn't working but I gave her credit for effort. This had to be almost as weird for her as it was for me, although I imagine she's had similar conversations before. I felt bad for her. Succubi were really only designed to do a few things well, and having deep heart-felt emotional conversations with their children isn't on the list. While she dug around in the couch for her composure, I thought about her funeral. She and dad had been having a lot of trouble when she 'died', but despite that he was the only one there crying. The rest of us were in shock. Who knew Mom even had a plane? And what was she doing in Portugal? http://ficlets.com/feed/story/30441