NOTE: This is a fictional story. The names of places and cities are real. The characters are fictional. Any person living or dead similar to name or events, is purely coincidence.
***
Man. It was great to be stationed at a naval base in Pensacola, Florida. My first assignment as an MP, after eighteen months of being a grunt for the Marine Corps. Oh, forgive me. My name is Corporal Barry Watson. USMC. I've been in the service now just under two years. Most of that time was spent as an infantry soldier at Camp Lejeune, North Carolina, shortly after thirteen grueling weeks of basic training. But here I was, in the "Sunshine State".
I grew up in a small upstate New York town, just north of Albany. My family still lives there, and though I've been away for almost two years, nothing from home hadn't really changed. I was three weeks settling into my new home at the base when I finally got my letters. (The military can be slow at times rerouting mail to transferred personnel). One letter I received was from my parents. I opened it up, pulling the letter out of the envelope. When I unfolded the papers, a reddish-orange maple leaf fell out from the folds. It was mom's way of telling me that autumn had arrived in New York. Big contrast to the 80+ degree weather I was enjoying down here. Upon reading the letter, my heart sunk when she said that she and dad were getting a divorce. It wasn't a big surprise, but the last time she wrote to me, she said that things were looking positive between the two of them. I now found out that was short lived.
The day came when I received my honorable discharge papers from the Marine Corps. I flew back to New York, where my mother and sister were waiting for my plane to land in Albany. When I entered the terminal. they saw me, and ran toward me, hugging me the moment they got close enough.
"Welcome home Barry." Mom said giving me a kiss on the cheek.
"Welcome back baby brother. My sister Joann said. "Boy, just look at you all dressed up in your uniform, looking all spiffy and handsome. The Marines really did a bang-up job turning you into one stud of a man."
"They sure did. My little boy is now a very handsome man. Just wait til those former high school bitches who use to pick on you see you now. She said while squeezing my cheeks together.
"Okay, mom. Thanks for the flattery. Where is Pop? Didn't he come?" Looking around the terminal, searching for him.
"No Barry. Your father and his hussy secretary decided to elope last weekend. They're on their honeymoon right now in Aspen."
"Didn't he know I was coming home? I told you three months ago that I wasn't going to re-enlist."
"I know dear. But after our divorce, he and I had little if any communication."
"Mom!! You could've told him I was coming home!!" Now getting hot under the collar.
"Barry!! He changed his number and everything." Raising her voice, getting people to stare. "I..." Calming down, lowering her voice. "I had no way of getting a hold of him. Your asshole of a father even got a restraining order against me. I can't even call his work unless it's an absolute emergency."
"Why did he do that mom?" I asked, pretty stunned by what I just heard.
"Because he felt I was harassing him and his new squeeze doll secretary."
"Dad's always been an asshole Barry. You know that. Come on. Let's get you home hey? I'm sure you miss your bed."
"My bedroom is still the same. Right? You didn't move anything around did you?"
"No Barry. It's still the same. We just threw out those nasty porn mags of yours." Joann said snickering.
"You did what!!" My face getting red.
"No, we didn't." Mom said. "But I wish you would. They are nasty. Blah!"
"What can I say. I like naked women." Grinning.
"Hope your Marine buddies didn't catch you jerkin' the gherkin." Joann laughed.
"Very funny sis. Do you have that plastic cucumber at your bedside? What did you call it? Oh. Mr. Green Giant?"
"Shut up!! I never had any such thing!" She said blushing.
Joann and I did as siblings always did. We busted on each other. Mom was walking in front of us, faster than we were, as a matter of fact. I think she didn't want people to know that she raised two potty mouth kids.
We pulled into the driveway. It was so good to see the old house again. The decades-old dirty, yellow painted house. The garage, with the dent in the overhead door from the first time I drove the family car. Boy, was dad pissed that day when his eight-year-old son got behind the wheel. But he should've never left the car running. Then there were those crooked porch stairs, which my dad never bothered to fix. "It adds character." He said. But if you were not familiar to the slope of the steps, it could also add to a lawsuit. And of course, the porch. More like the 'hang out' as my friends and I would call it. We spent many rainy summer days on this porch. It's also where I got my first kiss, and the first boob feel. Both on the same day. Yep, many years I spent growing up in this house. Now it seems I'm the man of it.
I went upstairs into my room to put away my duffel bag and my suitcase. I took off my 'Dress Blues' and donned on my civilian clothes. I went back downstairs to grab a bite to eat.
"I'm famished. Got any cold cuts?" I said scrounging through the fridge.
"Well if you just hold on, I'll make you something." She said pulling me away from the refrigerator.
My mom was sweet. Forty-eight, but looked ten years younger. She was a petite woman. She always kept in shape. When I use to have military leave, she and I would walk around the whole town. She tried jogging with me, but she felt too sore. Even for a half a mile jog. But walking, Sheesh. She could walk for miles without tiring. Maybe that's what kept her looking young. But she still looked hot for her age. Her long black, curly hair had just the slightest hint of gray. She stood about 5' 1", with a nice curvy body, and perky B-cup breasts. Her ass was pretty nice too. Dad's secretary had to be drop-dead gorgeous in order for him to leave mom.
"So how old is my new stepmother?" I asked swallowing a chopped carrot.
"Ready for this?? nineteen!" She said making me a sandwich. "Nine freaking teen! Can you believe that?" Throwing the butter knife in the sink.
"Well. I hope she doesn't ask me to call her mom." I laughed. "She from around here?"
"Troy. I think. Yeah. Troy. Little redhead slut name Sarah."
"What was she, an intern?"
"Something like that. Barry. Can we drop it? I don't want to talk about them." She said, almost beginning to cry.
I walked toward her, putting my arms around her. "Hey. Hey. It's alright mom. Didn't mean to upset you. You're a strong woman. Always have been. You'll get over this." Rubbing her back.
"Well with you home now, I don't feel so alone." Holding me tight. "Okay," Wiping the tear from her eye. "Go eat."
I knew mom was hurting. Me being at home did make her happy, but the void of my old man leaving her for a younger, more nubile girl, had to the ultimate stab in the back. Ever since they broke up, mom just sat around the house except for work or going shopping. Even that became terrifying with friends or acquaintances asking her if she's okay, or how's she holding up. The worst thing my mom wanted to hear from people was, "If you need anything, you let me know." What the fuck were these women going to do but to tell her she'll be okay. Or worse, "You hang in there Diane. Someone will come along."
Mom didn't even go out on dates. She was too hurt, too let down, and in her view, too old. She still liked to go out for her walks. Though it was a lot earlier in the morning, like an hour before sunrise. There weren't many people out except for the paperboy throwing out the newspaper from his car, or the city garbage truck collecting the neighborhood trash. The second day I was home, I went with her on her daily walk.
"You're looking good mom." Staring at her oversized sweats.
"What are you talking about? I'm dressed in rags."
"Yeah, but aren't they the same sweats that you had last year when I was home on leave?"
"Yeah. What about it?"
"Well, if I recall. They weren't as loose as they are now."
"They are much looser now aren't they?" Pulling on the bottom of the shirt. "Maybe it's time I get some new sweats."
"We could go shopping later. I need some new clothes myself."
