Dad picked up the magazine and then the Penthouse book and stared at the row of videos. I tried to look unconcerned while hoping he didn't lift then and see the DVD was missing.

“Paul, that note was under the movies."

“No, it was on top." I doubted he would believe me, but it was worth a shot.

“No, it wasn't. I wrote it years ago and it's been there ever since." He glanced over at me, “And I watch these a lot more than I should, and they're out of order."

“This one.“ He tapped the Blow Job Teens movie, “Is in backwards." He gave me a poor attempt at a smile, “OCD is a terrible thing."

Before I could reply, he pulled the video out and showed me the cover with mom's freshly painted face on it.

"Whoa!" I tried to sound the way I had when I'd first seen it, but it was a pretty poor attempt and with a nod, dad slid the move back in the box.

“You'd seen that already, if you hadn't you're jaw would be on the floor right now." He told me.

“Like I said, we need to talk."

“Look, dad." I put my hands out, “I don't think there's anything to say. Those movies shocked the hell out of me, but mom was really young and it's in the past and I'll never tell her I saw them."

“That goes without saying." Dad sat down in the desk chair and pointed at a large sealed box next to me, “Have a seat, Paul, we are going to discuss this. I won't have you thinking poorly of your mother."

“I wouldn't think that way." If anything I was thinking a little too highly of her it seemed.

“I'm sure she had reasons."

“Your mom never talks about her past for a reason."

Dad was going to talk about this anyway and at this point I was just thankful he wasn't crazy pissed like he should have been. Like he would be if he knew I'd watched a few minutes of one, and had gotten turned on by it.

“She told me she had a shitty childhood and her parents were assholes, that's why I've never met them." I volunteered, even though I knew he was going to go into details. Odd he'd want to talk at all considering how weird this was.

“She did. Her father was a drunken prick like mine, but where mine was just kind of free with his hands, he hurt her in other ways.”

"Oh, that's sick." I said softly, “Poor mom

“And her mother found out, but was too afraid to say anything. Finally a suspicious neighbor did and they took her away from them, but she ended up in group homes and kept running away."

“Usually where she would run is to some guy old enough to have his own place and she would, lie about how old she was and," he paused, then sighed,

“Earn her room and board. Because of what had happened to her with her father sex was meaningless to her, it was just something that happened so she never cared about what she did or who she did it with if she could get something out of it."

“You don't have to tell me this." I interrupted, I didn't like hearing about mom being hurt, but his remark of her being that casual with sex had gotten me thinking about the movie I'd just watched. The idea my mother was, for a lack of a better term, easy wasn't as disturbing as it should have been.

“You need to understand what led her to that industry. Your mom was a beautiful girl and had said she'd always wanted to act. In an effort to get her on a decent path one of the women who worked at the home had her friend who was a photographer take some pictures of her."

“They showed them to a local modeling agency and they had your mom come in and loved her. She was in a couple of flyers for a local store and won a teen pageant. When she turned eighteen she made the mistake of thinking she could make it big and left Minnesota for Los Angeles."

Dad shook his head, “Sounds like a stereotyped script, but she came out here, couldn't get any real gigs, but found an agent that asked if she'd be willing to shoot porn. Your mother unfortunately was no stranger to sex and decided to let the creep cast her."