This is my second story here on Lit. I know I said I'd write one more sex-oriented, but I just couldn't get this idea out of my head. I decided that it had to be written. This is quite story-oriented and takes a while for the sex to start. So if you're here for a quick jerk-off or rub of the nub, then turn away. This is a one-shot, unlike The Nerd, which I will get to within a week or so. Lastly, comment and let me know how you feel about the story.
~~~~~
"When does her flight land?" I asked my blue-eyed lover.
"It should've landed by now. She should be home soon."
"Can we..."
"No. We promised ourselves we would tell her this time. We've been procrastinating from Thanksgiving last year and now it's almost time for Easter break. We must do this... I must do this." I sighed. I knew there was no way of getting out of telling her. Frankly, a part of me feels that I should get this over with, but another part of me is just too afraid of what might happen, of what she might say and how that would affect us.
You probably don't realize how much shit I'm in right now, or about why all of this matters that much. Well, it'll take at least an hour for her to get here, so I might as well fill you in.
My relationship with Kate Chambers started around a year ago... Actually, no wait, that won't explain why... Okay but then I'll have to... Fuck it, I'll rewind it a few more years.
~~~~~
My story starts way back when I was sixteen. I'm Marissa Sparks and up until that age, I was just your average closeted lesbian teenage girl from a typical American family. I was never that proud of my body, with a mousy little appearance, frizzy red hair, brown eyes and chest almost as flat as a board. Most people mistake me for an Irish person, and while I do come from Irish ancestry on my father's side, it was still quite a surprise to my parents in the hospital. They thought the nurse had switched their child for someone else's.
As a family, we were doing pretty alright, dad had a rather stable job that kept us afloat, I kept up my pocket money by working at a fast food chain, and my mother worked as a receptionist at some doctor's office to compensate for her hobbies, also known as her drinking problem.
But my family like many others, had its fair share of issues. The long sparring matches between my parents kept our house lively, to put it mildly. Usually my mother was drunk during said fights, making her quite unbearable during such times. And I had my 'in the closet' problem, so I was quite unsociable with them as well. Dad just assumed I didn't want to see them fighting, and I chose to leave it like that.
We got by, living in our twisted tranquility. Every day was no different from the previous, and while that may seem a little drab, it was actually quite nice.
Then life intervened, and it all came crashing down one Sunday night in March, around a month after my sixteenth birthday. Dad had passed away in a car crash.
It was nobody's fault really, no drunken douchebag or impatient asshole to blame. He was driving at night through a somewhat dark and empty highway. The police said a stray dog must've run by the front of the vehicle, causing him to swerve sharply and crash into a tree by the side of the road. He died before the medics could even get to him. That night was the saddest and darkest night of my life... or so I thought until it all settled.
Mother was never the same since dad died, partly because he kept her in line, but mostly because she did love him, even though it rarely showed. His death was killing her inside, and she chose to drink until she forgot that fact, instead of taking care of me. It made her even more unbearable to me, now that dad wasn't there to take the brunt of her torture. On some days she would mourn dad's death, on other days she would complain about how unsociable and ungrateful I was. I couldn't stand her anymore, and I usually locked myself in my room before she got home to avoid a confrontation. Those were the nights I hated the most, when it felt like I had lost everything in my world.
Alas, it was dad who ultimately came to my rescue. He was looking out for me from beyond the grave and that's what gave me the strength to continue. A few weeks later, our lawyer contacted us about my father's will. He had left my mother his pension, but for me he had set up an education fund a long time ago, and had been saving up for my college fees. It basically covered a large portion of my education fees until I made it through college. Coupled with the money I had been saving up as my pocket money and a scholarship, I could get through college undergrad without having to worry too much about my education and living expenses.
Since that day, I threw myself into my studies, setting aside any other issues like my mother, my sexuality and high school. I basically lived between school, the library and my part-time job, and didn't care for much else.
Finally, after a year of hard work, I got the scholarship I wanted and got into NYU Stern as a Political and Business Economics Major. It took some rope, tons of coffee, a garden hose, and a wet kitchen to get my Mother sober enough to realize what I'd been doing for the past year. She was finally proud of me... until she realized I was leaving her for good. The rest of it went down something like this.
~~~~~
"B-But you can't... You can't leave me..."
"Mother..."
"You can't... I won't let you... I won't pay for your college."
I chuckled. "Mother, you will not be paying for my college fees. I can assure you that much."
"B-But then..."
"Dad left me an Education fund in his will. If you had been sober when we met with the lawyer, you would know that. Also, I got myself a scholarship from NYU and have been saving up on the money from my part time job. I have more than enough for the small amount I should pay for my living expenses after dad's fund and my scholarship pitch in."
She went silent for a while after that. I took the time to make myself something to eat from the kitchen, while she just sat there, wet, in the middle of the kitchen, tied up to a chair while she processed all the information I just fed her.
"Why... Why are you leaving me?"
I was genuinely surprised. Was she seriously asking me this question? Wordlessly, I grabbed her bottle of vodka and held it up. Thankfully, she understood and had the decency to feel ashamed of herself.
"Oh, while we're here I might as well just throw this out there. I'm a lesbian."
She seemed like she might challenge me but one look from me silenced her.
After some more time, she piped up again as I was doing the dishes. "Can... Can I meet you again sometime?"
I turned back to her, my gaze softened. "Maybe... if you can start getting rid of this." I held up her bottle once again.
She took a deep breath and nodded. Tears glazed her eyes as she finally realized that she had to face the reality if she wanted her daughter once again. I loosened her ropes and we shared a brief hug.
~~~~~
Since then we've met a few times, but not really enough to say we're back to the mother-daughter relationship we had when I was a child. I am happy she mostly got rid of her habit, and even happier she did it for me. She's got a new family now, met a guy once she was sober again, got married to him after a year or two, and is now helping him with her now step-children. I made her promise not to neglect them like she did to me, that much was enough for me. But I digress from me and my current situation.
