As bad ideas went this was the worst that Ryan Ward had ever heard off, it made Hitler's invasion of Russia seem like a smart move and Icarus seem like a bright guy, but it was too late, he was committed. Beside him his Mom was opening the car door and greeting one of her old school friends who she hadn't seen for near twenty years. He remained sitting for a moment, as the two women gabbled excitedly beside the car, but even as they were talking he could see the other woman looking through the window curiously at him, so he forced a smile onto his face, like he was excited to be here, and undid his safety belt.
"He is handsome Brandi" the woman said as he exited, "How did you snag someone so young?"
His Mom grinned proudly and slid her arm through his, "You wouldn't believe we met in a coffee shop, Claire. I'd been served his latte by accident and we clicked at the counter as we were both returning them to the barista." It was so obvious a lie that he was surprised Claire didn't burst out laughing. Keep it simple, he had said to his Mom. It has to be romantic as well as believable, she had replied. Now Ryan wasn't sure it was either.
But it seemed to work as Claire nodded sagely, "He looks so young and handsome," she admired him like he was a Greek statue in a museum and he felt himself blushing. It was even worse as his Mom hugged him tighter, which would have been fine if she'd been acting as a possessive Mom trying to stop a cougar getting her hooks into him, but less so when she was playing the part of a cougar who had him in her claws and the other woman was a rival large cat eyeing the captured prey for herself. "So virile," she purred, her eyes moving up and down him, mentally undressing him.
"He's at college," smiled his Mom. Another lie, though a smaller one, as he had just finished High School and was going to college in the Fall, however his Mom had thought it'd be easier if they made he'd left home already rather than having to field questions about what his parents thought about him being away at a wedding with a woman literally old enough to be his mother.
"I'm sure he's getting an education," Claire's laugh left little doubt she was not talking about the learning you get in classrooms. "He can't be much older than your son, what's his name?"
"Michael," his Mom said. That was true, even though as he'd been named after his Dad's favourite uncle as soon as the man had left, sixteen years old, his Mom had reverted to his second name, Ryan, which is what everyone knew him as. "Slightly older, Michael's away this weekend with friends, though he's cool with Ryan, isn't he lover?"
"He's a great kid," said Ryan, unable to stop himself from going even redder
Especially as his Mom couldn't resist a little joke at his expense, "A little immature sometimes, though, not like my stud here." She squeezed his arm tighter, but then luckily, deciding she'd spent enough time teasing him and artfully moved the conversation onto Claire's children and husband (who sounded like he was close to sixty and very wealthy). After a few minutes his Mom glanced at her watch, "We better book in and change, it's been a long drive. Will we see you in the bar?"
"I'll be there," said Claire, winking at Ryan and making it sound like she spent a fair amount of her evenings in hotel bars.
He was already heading to the car, "I'll get our cases," he said as his Mom finished her conversation with her friend. Getting them out, he was already at the entrance by the time his Mom said her goodbyes after exchanging some gossip.
"She hasn't changed," she said as she joined him, "Always on the look-out for other girl's guys, even if she had one herself."
"I'm your son," he reminded her.
"Not for this weekend," she grinned and slid her arm through his again, "Lover," she teased.
"I can't believe we got away with it," he continued, looking around briefly to make sure no-one could overhear. "When we're standing next to each other, didn't she notice the family resemblance?"
"You look more like your Dad," she replied and shrugged, "People see what they want to see. I said you're my boyfriend, that's what everyone is going to believe. Anyway I've not seen anyone here for close to eighteen years, if they ever saw you it was as a baby."
"It's only a wedding," he had said, "No-one's going to worry if you go without a partner."
However, she wasn't having any of it. It was the second marriage of one of her old cheerleader friends from High School and the whole team would be there, for the first time since they'd graduated two dozen years ago; and they were a bunch of judgemental bitches who wouldn't believe she was just going through a fallow patch since she'd broken with her last boyfriend. "You could go," she had suddenly suggested.
"Sure," he had replied, not sure how taking her son would solve the problem of being thought to be a singleton.
"As my boyfriend," she added, "Everyone would die if I turned up with a toyboy." Immediately he knew it was a bad idea and said no, except his Mom could be very persuasive, especially when she did her 'poor little me' routine and fluttered her eyelids like she was a blonde in distress.
So here he was, a whole weekend of pretending to be his Mom's lover, it was made no better by the fact she seemed to be enjoying the whole deception, a fooling her old friends seemed to be immensely appealing. He couldn't believe he had agreed, but now they were here he'd just have to go along with it and hope they could pull it off. His Mom was at the reception, booking them in and taking the key. He picked up the holdall and then took the handle of the suitcase, just the one -- they were sharing a room, a double at that -- his Mom pointing out everyone would be suspicious if they had separate rooms or even a twin. He had suggested he sleep on the couch, but she had said that was dumb and not good for his back, there was nothing wrong with them sharing a bed; they'd done it lots of time when he was younger, so what was the difference now? He didn't tell her.
Once inside the room Ryan let out a sigh of relief as he closed the door behind him; in the room, safe from prying eyes he could relax -- it had been more stressful than he had imagined, though his Mom still seemed pretty laid back, as if it was something they did every weekend. She was unzipping the suitcase and getting out their clothes. "I talked to the girls earlier," she said as she slipped one of his shirts onto a hangar and putting it in the wardrobe, "Katie..."[that was the bride] "...is eating with her family, so the rest of us are grabbing some food in the hotel bar about eight and she'll join us for drinks about ten."
He nodded, resigned to an evening when his Mom pretended to flirt with him and he pretended to enjoy it, and sometimes flirt back. Not that his Mom was unattractive, not having put on much weight from her cheerleader days, except perhaps around her bosoms -- which were larger than average but not excessively so and whose hair remained blonde without needing any additional help. More than one of his friends had let their gaze linger a little too long when she'd knocked on his room door and come into to deposit his laundry on the side board. How she was so unlucky with guys was a mystery, but not one it was his job to solve.
"You want to shower first?" she asked.
"Shower?" he asked, as he hadn't thought about it.
"Yes, we've been in the car for six hours, as much as I don't mind your aroma, it's probably for the best we don't let my friends smell it, Claire isn't the only cougar," his Mom replied.
"Okay then," normally he'd get changed in own room and walk down the landing to and from the shower. But that was when his Mom might see him for two seconds with a towel wrapped round his midriff, it was different when he'd come out and into the room she was in. He'd have to get changed in the bathroom, which meant that his shower could only be lukewarm if he didn't want to leave his clothes sopping from the steam. He gave an inward sigh and reached into the wardrobe to take out a clean shirt.
"Don't worry about using all the hot water," his Mom said brightly.
It didn't take him long to shower, shave and do his teeth and hair, before getting back into his jeans and the new shirt. Stepping outside into the room, he said, "Shower's ready." His Mom looked at the clock and nodded, putting her cosmetic bag on the dresser next to the double bed, before vanishing into the bathroom.
Sitting on one of the couches Ryan flicked through the TV channel on the remote. He was vaguely interested to see there was an 'adult movie', which he'd have been tempted to watch if a) it wasn't pay per view and it'd come up on his Mom's credit card and b) she wasn't showering just a few feet away. Instead he settled on a repeat of vaguely funny sitcom; it wasn't what he'd have chosen for the weekend, but, he supposed, he'd soon be leaving for college and so spending time with his Mom now would make up for lost time later.
The shower went silent. Surprisingly the door opened only half a minute later, as Ryan had expected his Mom to follow his example and get changed in the room (though now he noted it, she hadn't taken in a change of clothes). Out came his Mom, clad only in towel wrapped round her upper body, down to her thighs, her long blonde hair dripping wet down her back. He blushed and tried not to look, though his Mom seemed impervious to his embarrassment, but instead took a seat nearby and plugged in the hairdryer, "You don't mind, do you?" she said and without waiting for an answer switched it on, drowning out the TV.
It was definitely unfair; with the show on he could have concentrated on it and ignored his Mom, without it, she was the only thing in the room. He tried to look at the paintings on the wall, but they were only bland pictures of bowls of fruit or sunsets and the view out the window was only of the parking lot and beyond that the highway. As much as he tried to avoid it his eyes kept coming back to his Mom. If she hadn't been his Mom he'd have said she was attractive, sexy even, especially as her towel kept slipping threatening to expose a bosom and she had to keep heaving it up as she first dried her hair and brushed it and then started on her make-up.
Eventually she put away her cosmetics and stood up, moving behind Ryan as she walked over to the closet. Ryan could hear the door opening and the scrape of hangars along the rail as she decided what she'd be wearing tonight, which would need to be different from what she was wearing tomorrow and the morning after the wedding. "What do you think of this dress?" she asked and Ryan had no choice but to turn around to look. She was still in her towel, but was holding a black dress over her body. It was one Ryan recognised, she often wore it when she was going out to a bar with girlfriends as a singleton. It wasn't hard to see why, as it was both short and low cut. "Think it'll do for tonight?"
