As much as I'd drank I was still angry at Paul, angrier than I'd ever been at him, or anyone else for that matter, in years. I told myself Paul didn't realize what he'd done, that he was confused and in a sense maybe still dealing with the loss of his father, somehow thinking he could take his place and make both of us okay.

But my overwhelming reaction was still to be pissed off. He'd been ‘talking ' to me through my website, wrote a letter to Malcolm then sat and talked with that whack job for hours about me. I quickly got out of the car as the more I sat there, the angrier I became again.

I walked up the porch stairs fuming as much as I had been at the studio. Part of me had hoped he would be hiding in his room and I could go in mine and do this tomorrow, but now I wanted him to be waiting for me because I'd had it with this whole mess. So much for wanting to take time to get my act together, I was now as mad as when I'd first seen him in the dressing room.

I entered the house and to my ill-tempered satisfaction saw he was sitting on the couch waiting for me.

“Um, hey , mom." He said quietly.

“Mom? What happened to hey, Molly!" I tossed my purse on the end table too hard and it slid off and fell on the floor, the contents spilling onto it.

Paul started to get up to pick it up, but I stopped him.

“Leave it and answer me, what happened to hey, Molly?"

“That was an act, you know, so Malcolm wouldn't know who I was."

"You didn't mind telling him who you were though did you?"

“Well, when you wouldn't play along, I just figured,"

“Figured what?" I snapped walking over to stand in front of him.

"That I would show up, see it was you and say what the hell, the show must go on? Did you think you were going to fuck me?"

I just wanted you to see how much I wanted you, that I'll do

I stepped up between his legs, looking down at him where he sat up on the edge of the couch. I was breathing hard and so mad I was shaking. Paul, seemingly oblivious to my impending explosion, continued to speak.

“We should talk, mom." "Molly." I said.

“Call me Molly." “uh, why?"

“Because I'm your goddamn mother and you'll listen to what I say. Now call me Molly."

“Okay. He looked at me dubiously, “Molly, we need to talk."

"Yeah, we do."

“That offer from Malcolm we should take it."

“Really?” I gave him a smile, that he should have noticed wasn't a pleasant one, "Why?"

“Because I bet we could get him to give us enough to pay off school. Then you could stop filming porn."

“I already quit, weren't you paying attention?" He wasn't now, that as for sure because if he was he'd know enough to shut up.

“Well you wouldn't have to worry about money! We can afford the house with your job and me chipping in until I graduate then I'll be making good money!"