But when we got to the resort we found out there was a mistake in the booking and we ended up with a large suite without a separate room for the boy. Luckily he had his own bed, but with no privacy it was next to impossible to fuck my wife. For the first three days we were there, our 13 year old always seemed to be in the room when the wife and I were looking for some alone time.
On Sunday it wasn’t so bad. After we checked in and unpacked, we went down to the water park to see our son off. While he was running the gamut, we hit the bar and threw back some drinks.
With a few shots of vodka in us, Terri and I planned to slip away to the room for an early afternoon romp while Wyatt was enjoying an after lunch float through the lazy river. But when we got to the hotel room he was sitting cross legged on his bed texting with his friends. Later we encouraged him to go for an evening dip in the pool but he wasn’t interested.
On Monday it looked like he’d made a friend. He seemed to be following a boy his age around the resort, so the wife and I planned to sneak in a quickie while he was distracted. That never materialized, though, because when we used the key card to enter the room, there he was with his friend, sitting side by side on his bed watching clips on each others’ phones. They were both sporting boners, and my guess is that they were watching porn. Not wanting to embarrass our boy or his buddy, Terri and I exchanged knowing glances and settled into our own routine, hoping the boys would get the hint and take off.
They never did.
By Tuesday I was a ball of nerves, and frankly so was my wife. She joked that if she didn’t think he’d wake up, she’d climb on for a midnight ride while he was sleeping. But I was starting to lose hope that I’d ever get to blow a load into my wife. And I think she was losing hope that she was going to get laid before we got home on Saturday.
I think Wyatt could tell we were getting cranky, and he responded in kind. At 13 years old, his emotions are already a tangled knot of barbed wire. Any perceived slight by mom or dad and he could end up in the foulest of moods. When he woke up on Tuesday morning I could tell he was in no mood for anyone’s shit. He snapped at us when we tried to rush him down to the dining room for breakfast. At lunch time he laid on his bed with his arms crossed, not saying anything to us and staring at the ceiling. The wife coaxed him down to the pool, but all he did was make smart-ass comments and snap that he didn’t want to be there.
By the time we made it back to the room after dinner I’d had enough of my son’s attitude. Terri had gone down the hall for some ice and I offered to order some dessert and have it brought to the room. He waved me off with a terse, “whatever” and pulled his phone out of his pocket.
For some reason, that was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
“Excuse me young man?” I snapped back, then I snatched his phone out of his hand and turned it off.
“You can’t do that!” he demanded, earning an incredulous look from me.
“I most certainly can, and I will,” I told him in a less than patient tone. “I’m getting sick of your little attitude, mister.”
“This is bullshit,” he said. “I’m telling mom!”
“Watch your mouth,” I warned him, and he only sneered at me. “Do you want to leave early?”
“I don’t care what we do!” he yelled, then he followed it up by screaming that he hated me before running to the bathroom and slamming the door. ?️?
“Fix it,” was all my wife said when she got back and found out about my row with our son.
“What do you mean, fix it?” I demanded, and she cut her eyes at me with a look that I knew well.
“You’ve been on edge and grumpy since we got here, Ray!” she told me in a tone that said she’d had enough. “This is Wyatt’s vacation, too. Give me his phone.”
With a defeated sigh I said, “Yes dear” and handed it over. She slipped it in her pocket, then she addressed our son.
“Wyatt, come out of the bathroom please,” she said, and he opened the door with tears streaming down his face. She opened her arms and he went to her for comfort.
“Why does he hate me?” he asked, and I felt my heart break.
“Daddy loves you, honey,” she assured him in a soothing tone. “This has been a stressful trip for all of us, hasn’t it?”
His face was buried in her stomach as he nodded his answer.
“Hey buddy, I’m sorry if I’ve been a grouch,” I said, and my wife gave me a warm smile. “How about if we sit and talk about it?”
“I want to talk to mom instead,” he told me in a small voice, and once again I felt crushed.
“I understand, son,” I said, then I slunk away to the bed and plopped down, turning the TV on and surfing channels while they sat on the couch and talked.
I heard Terri tell him, “You can have your phone back after we talk about what you did tonight. Dad was trying to do something nice and you treated him like crap.”
“He’s been treating me like crap since we left the house,” Wyatt argued. Once again I felt a surge of sadness because my boy was so hurt by the way I’d been treating him.
“I understand that, and he’s sorry,” she said. “But he said you cussed at him.”
“I only said shit,” he muttered. “And I only said it after he took my phone away.”
“You’ve been texting nonstop since we left,” she noted, and he gave her a distressed look. “Is there a girl you like?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said in a near whisper.
“I see,” Terri said. “You know, mom and dad don’t go through your texts. But if there’s something you need to tell us, we expect you to be honest.”
“It’s not a girl, mom,” he said. I glanced over at the couch and he had the saddest look I’ve ever seen.
“I see,” Terri said, and we both understood what he was trying to say. “How long has this been going on, honey?”
“Since my birthday,” he said.
“Is that why you’ve been so moody?” she asked, and he curled his legs up and melted into her side.
I watched her wrap her arms around his pint sized frame and pet his head, then he answered, “Not just that, mom.”
“Do you feel like talking about it?” she asked, but I didn’t hear his answer. Whatever he told her served as a call to action, though, because the next thing she said was, “How about if we go for a walk around the resort and talk about everything?”
“Okay,” he agreed, then they got up from the couch.
She walked to the bed and laid down beside me for a moment, planting a kiss on my forehead and saying, “We’re going for a walk, hun. I want you and him to spend some alone time tomorrow.”
I sat up on the bed and Wyatt approached me. He still had tear streaks on his face and it was devastating to me. But he managed to give me a smile, then he wrapped his little arms around my neck and I hugged him tight.
“I’m so sorry, buddy,” I said, then I kissed him on the cheek.
“I’m sorry too, dad,” he said, his voice breaking up a little bit.
“I love you more than anything,” I told him, thinking about what he just hinted about his sexuality. “You know, you can tell me anything, son.”
“I know, but I want to talk to mom first,” he said in a voice so small it was barely audible.