David is an athlete. There’s a subtle change in Ruby that remains a mystery to me. Despite her bubbly public persona, sometimes she’s happier than normal, other times there’s sadness in her eyes, maybe shame. For the last several months, I see these tell-tale signs in private, away from other people.
The fact is, I need to know everything, from her diet, workout routine, mood, the situation with friends and family, even her sex life. She knows the same about me.
We’re partners in beach volleyball and we’ve won Olympic medals together. Even at our older age, we’re favored to win gold before retiring from the sport. We’re in the midst of heavy training with the games approaching.
I’m positive she has a new man because of the glint in her eyes and the blush in her cheeks. It’s baffling because I know all about her ex-husband and recent dates, but for some reason she’s keeping quiet. Is she having a kinky sexual relationship with someone?
Finally I’ve had enough. I’m going to confront her and the best place is at her home. The training center is always busy and a heart-to-heart conversation requires a personal touch. I don’t call or text, because I want Ruby caught off guard.
The drive is 20 minutes and I park on the street.
When I ring the doorbell, I wait a while, then David opens the door. He’s the 19 year old son of Ruby and I’ve known him forever. We’re like family and I jokingly call him my ‘nephew’ on occasions.
“Mom isn’t home,” he says after we make small talk. “She left to meet with parents about an upcoming game.”
For context, Ruby has a side gig as a volleyball coach for young kids. Even with our training schedule and her endorsement deals and ventures, she’s able to give these kids and parents high priority. I commend her for that, she’s a beautiful person.
“Do you know when she’ll be back?”
“Probably within an hour.”
“Mind if I come inside and wait?” I ask.
“Yeah, sure. I’m actually in the middle of an online class right now. It’s almost over though.”
I wince and gesture for him to leave. “Yikes, go back, go back.”
“Okay, I’m going, I’m going,” he says, pretending to move faster. “There’s soda in the fridge. Chips and fruits are on the counter.”
“You better go. I don’t want your professor to be upset.”
“Okay, I’m gone.”
When he rushes up the stairs towards his bedroom, I wonder if Ruby is seeing someone. The whole ‘meeting with parents’ thing could be a ruse. An elaborate lie that she tells her son. My theory of an intense sexual relationship gains new momentum. I wonder what fetishes she’s into?
I hear audio from the online course in David’s bedroom, so I decide to be a detective and snoop around. Going up the stairs, I make my way to Ruby’s bedroom.
The bedroom looks the same as it always does, neat, clean, with a lot of things laying around. There are pictures on the wall of family, friends, and various sporting events that we’ve competed in together. Her medals and trophies are on a desk. Beauty products line her dresser mirror.
Something catching my eye; lingerie is hanging from a laundry basket. I walk over for a closer inspection. When I lift it, sheer fabric is revealed. Her nipples would be exposed wearing this. There’s another lingerie in the basket with the same design.
Wearing this is fine for a lover, but why would she leave this out so brazenly? Her son would be able to see it from the hallway. In all the years I’ve known Ruby, she’s always been a careful mother. She’s always mindful of how her son views her.
I put the lingerie down and walk towards the dresser. Positioned next to an array of lipstick and eyeliner, is a six-inch dildo and a silver-colored vibrator. What on earth is she thinking? What kind of woman would leave these things out while living with an adult son?
The only logical explanation is that Ruby was in a hurry before leaving home. She’s a busy woman who often rushes, running from place to place. It’s plausible that she was in the middle of cleaning her toys and forgot to put them away. The same with the lingerie.
I picked up the vibrator from the dresser. It’s normal and healthy for a woman to own sex toys, especially someone with a schedule like hers. The device is a marvel and I can see why she owns it.
What bothers me is that the vibrator and dildo are placed next to a framed photograph of Ruby with her son. It’s a photo of them together after a qualifying game from months ago. They’re on the beach, hot sun shining on their smiling faces, and they’re so close their cheekbones are touching each other’s.
The epiphany hits me like a ton of bricks. It’s both absurd and the most logical conclusion. How could they? What the hell is she thinking? I could understand why David would want something like this — he’s a young man — but a woman like Ruby with everything to lose?
I hear footsteps approaching, but I’m so transfixed by the situation that I remain motionless, the shining vibrator still in my hand.
“You didn’t know?” he asks with a calm tone, standing by the door.
I put the vibrator down and look at him. “How long has this been going on?”
“About a year, but it got serious maybe six months ago.”
The timeline makes sense. I think of our social outings, dinner with friends, parties we’ve attended, and our routine training sessions together. All that time wondering what’s going on with her, now I know the answer.
“How could this happen?” I ask. “Ruby could go to jail over this. You know that, right? She’d go to jail. Her life would be ruined. Yours would, too.”
He gulps. “Please don’t say that. It’s not as simple as…”
“She’d lose everything,” I interjected. “Her worldwide reputation. Her standing in the community. The endorsement deals. She’d even lose her coaching job, too. And for what?”
I stop myself before going further because I’m getting emotional. I want to yell at him, to scream in his face. I stop because David is 19 and this isn’t his fault. The blame goes to Ruby because she’s the mature person in this household. She’s the mother in this family. The mother…
“Please don’t be upset,” he says.
“I’m not upset. I’m trying to figure this out.”
It’s obvious he’s never thought of an excuse, because getting caught was never part of their plan. I’m sure they were so careful in covering their tracks and hadn’t anticipated anyone snooping around in their home.
At my suggestion, we change the mood by going to a more comfortable setting in the living room, facing each other from different couches. He’s still uncomfortable, but I have to get to the bottom of this.
“My mother had an injury last year,” he says. “Lower back, do you remember?”
“Yes, I remember.”
He’s referring to when Ruby hurt her lower back from lifting weights. It put her out of commission for two weeks and she used acupuncture and ice packs to recover.
“Well, the doctor asked me to help with stretches, so we did that everyday in the living room. She’d lay on a yoga mat and my hands would press her back or legs. She said it helped with her athletic performance. When her training increased, she needed deeper stretches and massages.”
“And that’s how it started?” I ask.
“Yeah, that’s how it started.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” he replies.
“Who made the first move?”
“Mom did,” he replies.
I’m taken aback by the admission because I assumed that David made the first move. It feels worse that Ruby initiated all this, which is still difficult to believe. Part of me feels like there’s more to the story, that it’s more complex than I could ever imagine.
Another part of me feels like human sexuality is the most simple equation in the world; people need gratification. Ruby is only human. Her body responded to the stimulus.
“How did she make the first move?” I ask.
“She cupped my groin while stretching on the floor. She knew it was fucked up, but she did it anyway. She took my cock out and sucked it.”
What a punch to the gut and I’m stunned by the candor.
“I don’t know if I believe you. I’m starting to think that you put the vibrator on the table and left the lingerie scattered around. The moment she left the house you probably went through her stuff. A fetish of yours?”
The look on David’s face is unwavering. He’s not a young man who was caught red handed. Instead, he looks like an innocent party who carries a heavy secret. Either that or he knows how to lie.
“That’s where mom leaves her things,” he replies. “The sex toys are always on her table because she likes the aesthetics while doing her makeup. As for the lingerie, she always leaves them scattered around. She likes it when I see them.”
Again I marvel at how consistent this guy is. Either he’s telling the truth or he’s a complete sociopath who’s stuck in a twisted fantasy.
“Just admit it, you were playing with your mother’s things — doing God knows what — and now you’re sticking to a fake story.”
David thinks for a moment. “Move your car around the block so mom doesn’t see it. Then come back here.”
“Why?”
“Because she’ll be home soon.”
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