All characters engaged in sex acts are eighteen or older.
"I saw Aunt Ida in the grocery store and she told me. She said Mom fell down the attic ladder and broke her leg." Cammy was the last person I was expecting to be on the other end of the phone. It had been years.
"You know she exaggerates a little," I said.
"I know, that's why I called. What really happened?"
"That's the only reason you called?"
"Why are you giving me shit on this, Nick? I just want to know if Mom is ok." Cammy hadn't cared for a long time if Mom was ok or not. I would have thought it took more than an alleged broken leg to get her to call. She was a bigshot lawyer in LA now, and had even less time for me and Mom than before.
"She just sprained her ankle. We were up in the attic and she broke through the floor."
"What do you mean? And why were you up in the attic?" I'd never seen her this nosy.
"There must have been a weak spot in the floor. Her foot went through. We were looking through Dad's old stuff. Mom was looking for his tapes."
"That stupid camcorder," I was relieved to hear a little mirth in her voice.
"You want to talk to her?"
"No, no, that's ok," the tension was right back. Cammy and Mom had an especially rough time with each other after Dad passed. Cammy blamed Mom, even though Dad had died at work. She thought that he was tired from Mom keeping him up or that he stayed in the blaze to help his coworkers because of something Mom had said or done. She was only twelve, and it didn't make much sense. By the time she was old enough to realize, the damage was already done. I think my eighteenth birthday was the last time she and Mom were together.
"It's been a long time, Cammy. Mom will listen if you're not a psycho bitch about it."
"Whatever," she sighed. "It's not that easy, where do you think I get it?"
"So that's what this is about? That you want to patch things up with Mom?" I neglected to include "and me," but one step at a time. In those early days I always took Mom's side, and it led to some bad blood between us. Since then our relationship had been... strange. After my birthday, I only saw her a handful of times, and we didn't talk much. We had never talked about what happened that night.
"I guess it kind of is," she said. "I called to test the waters a bit. I'm in Sacramento for business next week and I was thinking of stopping by." She let the implied question hang.
"A business trip?"
"Yes, Nick. Look if you don't want me around-"
"Cammy, come on. I would love to see you. It's been a long time, Mom would like to see you too."
"Well, I doubt that, but as long as she doesn't want to murder me when I come in the door, I'll stop by." There was a pause, and when she continued there was a different quality to her voice. "I gotta go, but thanks, Nick. Really."
—
"You're in big trouble now that I know you can cook," Ashley said. She had joined Mom and me for dinner that night. I had made lasagna from a recipe I found online. Mom was equally impressed. Side by side you would have thought they were mother and daughter.
"Don't get used to it," Mom said. "Soon as I'm better he's going to get lazy again. Like he's channeling his dad." It had been a few days and Mom was a little easier mentioning Dad. When she compared me to him I felt proud, but also it made a little quiver pass through me.
"Well maybe I need to sprain my ankle, too. You're making me a little jealous, Donna," Ashley said.
"He'll only fawn over you like this if he knows you can't get away," Mom giggled.
"Alright, both of you," I put my hands up. "If I knew you were going to make a stink like this over my cooking, I would have ordered pizza."
"I'm just messing with you, Nick," Ashley poked me. "It's nice. You need to cook more often."
Mom beamed at me, and my ears heated with her pride. My eyes darted between the two of them. It was like Mom was a more extreme version of Ashley, ripened by her age. Bigger, heavier tits, a belly that filled my hands. It was like Ashley's voluptuous beauty taken one level higher. I felt like a heel having these thoughts about her. Ashley was knock out beautiful to me, and her personality was that alluring mix of spicy and sweet. But I remembered being overwhelmed by Mom's swinging, shining tits in the shower, how they moved under her hands. Every time I thought back to the shower, I wished I had worked up the courage to touch them, though I was able to sneak a feel or two when she was asleep.
My darkest desire was to have them both, kneeling in front of me, taking turns sucking my cock. I blinked to dispel the image from my mind. "He takes good care of me, Ashley. You better hold onto this one. He's a good boy." Embarrassment collided with pride inside me, and I found myself speechless again.
"I don't intend to let him go." Ashley reached under the table and rubbed my leg.
After the meal, Mom said, "You lovebirds run along. As long as you put the dishes in the sink, I can do them." She was getting good at hopping around on one leg.
"Donna, no," Ashley said.
"I've been pampered enough tonight. Least I could do for my boy." She kissed my cheek.
Though it took mere seconds, the walk to my bedroom was supremely awkward. Ashley closed the door behind us. There was quiet for a few seconds and we could hear Mom running the sink in the kitchen. Ashley arched an eyebrow at me. "Aren't you just the golden boy tonight?"
"Shut up. Mom's emotional, she's been going through a lot. She's missing Dad."
"You sure she hasn't replaced him?" she teased.
My face was burning hot. "Don't be shitty. You don't know what it's like for her."
Ashley took a step forward and took my hand, "Hey, don't take it so seriously."
"Don't take Dad dying seriously?"
"Fuck, I'm sorry, Nick." She lowered her eyes. "I know both of you are going through a lot. I can't imagine what it's like either. Seems like this whole thing has brought you and your Mom closer. Wish I had a Mom who gave a shit about me."
I shook my head, feeling a lump in my throat. "Hey, I'm here. My God, Nick," she said.
