This is my first time trying to write any fiction since, well, college. I had an idea for a story, then it kind of wrote itself. It's a story about a son and a mother, fantasies, and what it means to be a good son.
This story is kind of a slow burn. If you are looking for a story that jumps from one bed to another, you might be disappointed.
*****
Well, another weekend with no plans. Not how I thought life would go after college.
A little background. I started to stutter at school in the first grade. My teacher even sent a note home, asking if there was anything going on to make me so nervous. Nope. All American family life. One older sister, 2 parents who loved me. After a few months I started to stutter everywhere. Turned out I had fluid in my ears and I was not able to hear the teacher. That's what made me nervous.
They tried tubes in my eardrums, then had to go full on and remove my tonsils and adenoids to try to dry up the ears. Eventually it worked, and my hearing returned to normal. However, my nervousness never left. I even had a period of insomnia. I would lay in bed watching the clock. The later it got, the more nervous I got. Kind of build up on itself. That was second grade. My mom cured that with a clock radio Christmas present. I could fall asleep listening and my mom would stop by and turn it off every night for a couple years.
So eventually my hearing and insomnia were "cured", but my stutter stayed. This was full on, almost impossible to communicate stuttering. In 10th grade I started getting help from a speech counselor (thank you thank you thank you). By the time I made it to college my stuttering was no longer an issue, for the most part. However, I think I missed out on learning how to communicate, never learned the 'rules' on how to be sociable. I didn't have any confidence with any social interactions, especially concerning dating. I was never really bullied as a kid, but I always got the feeling people were not comfortable around me. It made other people nervous wanting me to just spit out whatever I was trying to say. So I never had a lot of friends thru high school. Partly I didn't make friends easily, partly maybe I was a bit of a loner, and you could say very shy. I was very much the 'nice guy' in the back of the room. Never had a girl friend in high school, didn't go to any prom.
One person who always got me was mom. We had many, many heart to heart talks when I was younger. Mom always got my sense of humor, dad would sometimes get a little irritated when I tried to be funny.
When I was in 11th grade my dad had a heart attack and was gone. My sister was still in her senior year. We had to kind of rally around each other. My mom is a teacher, and dad had set her up fairly well, plus life insurance, so we were OK money wise, not great. We were always a close family, seemed like we got really close for a couple years, then college and as they say, life happens.
As much as I didn't like high school, I LOVED every second of college. Best thing I did was join a fraternity. Initially mom was not crazy about the idea, but it ended up being great for me. I have a programmer's (yes, that was my major) sense of humor. Not everyone gets me right off, but eventually most people figure me out. Having a house full of brothers forced to get to know me worked out great. And my college was about 60% women, 40% men. With those odds even I could find a few women to date, but I never found 'the one'. In high school I graduated at about 6', 165 pounds. For some reason I grew 3 more inches in college. So I ended up a 6" 3', blond, blue eyes, in shape 200 pound college graduate with limited self confidence or social skills.
Ok, so I graduate, get a programming job (eventually), get an apartment with a roommate and get on with life. So, life is good. Bring on the women. OK, any time. Here I am. Hello. Not happening. I did try.
My job was across the state from mom, but only 40 minutes from my older sister. Karen was a year older than me, and also had the job and roommate thing going after college. Karen is a very focused person. At 22 she had decided it was time to find her soul mate for life, and I could tag along for the ride. So I would stay with her some weekends and we would go out on the hunt together. I was actually with Karen the night she met Harry at the Holiday Inn bar. They really hit it off, were married 9 months later (not that she 'had to'). 3 years later they seem really happy, 2 kids already. Funny thing is I'll bet neither has gone back to a dance bar since, not really either's thing. They just got really lucky, one of those things.
OK, the problem for me, as I see it. I never learned the whole social thing. Going up to a women in a bar was never going to work, Dating sites. Well, I am 6' 3", blond, but apparently not model material. I got very few hits. Seems like women out of school are looking up. Girls my age are looking to find a 30 something with the nice car and summer home, not a snot nose kid full of school loans. I did find a couple of different women to date, mostly in their 30s with kids. Probably desperation on their part. There were a few women I worked with, but none in a position to want to date me.
Back to my weekend, Thursday night actually. I'm 24 now, still can't find anyone to date. My roommate was going off to a music festival with some of his high school friends that weekend. Not my type of music, so I was on my own. As much as I see myself as a semi loner, I didn't like to be 'alone'. Time to call mom and see if she was going to be around. Actually, mom was almost always around. The beginning of the call is always the worst part, I know what's coming.
"Hi mom. Just thought I give you a call, see what's up this weekend."
"Let me guess. Nothing going on and you need some home cooking and laundry done. Honey how are you ever going to find a women coming home so often? You need to be out there fighting."
"Mom, you know I never change my clothes, just use them till they wear out and then throw them away. No laundry that way. But, home cooking does sound good. And the 'good fight' is wearing me out. "
"Sure, come on home. Nothing going on for me either, as usual. And bring your laundry."
That last part was kind of an inside joke for mom and me. Even in college I would do my laundry last thing getting ready to go home for breaks. It's something I can do, no need to put it on her, so I never brought any to her. I am, theoretically, an adult after all. I will stop and get some beer and wine on the way. It about 2 hours driving to get home.
"OK, I'll pack tonight and leave from work tomorrow. Should be home around 7:30."
"OK honey, see you tomorrow."
A little about my mother, Tracy. 46, a few pounds more than her marriage weight, guessing now at about 150, 5' 4". With a beautiful face, and amazing personality. I can only guess at her bra size, I just never looked hard at her that way to find out. Not huge, but noticeable. Since dad died she seemed to let herself go a little. She also had a super short hairstyle, not very feminine. Probably easier to take care of, but also kind of giving up in my book.
Got to mom's and she already had dinner ready, ravioli with meat sauce. She still works for a living, so she doesn't have time to make the pasta or sauce from scratch on a Friday night, but she does a great job enhancing the readymade stuff. Great by me. Served with bread and one of the bottles of wine I brought. I put my bag in the guest (my old) bedroom, put the beer and other wine away and sat down to eat.
"OK big boy. Give me the latest lowdown on your dating scene."
And there goes another 20 minute lecture about what a great catch I am and how I would have women all over me if I just put a little more effort into it. I truly love my mom but she is kind of becoming a one note recording.
I tried a different tact.
"Mom, you know I'm color blind. Nothing I can do about it. Do you think if I just tried a little harder I could tell red from green? It's not a matter of trying, it's a matter of not having skills. Another example. I play golf here and there, started in college. Some days I go to the range to try to fix my swing. After a large bucket of balls I'm hitting the ball worse than when I started. All I do is reinforce bad habits. Dating is like that. I don't have the skills for it. Trying harder just makes me more pathetic. You can't see it because I'm your favorite son, we do great together, and I'm not trying to date you. Going to bars is just depressing. I've tried dating aps but they don't work for me either."
"So that's it, you just give up? Karen found a husband. I wonder if Karen could give you the lessons you need."
"Yep, was there that night, 3 years ago. I remember being shot down twice just asking women to dance. Does Karen even still know what's going on out there? It's just harder for guys. Women seem to just be there, they get to control who they like and don't like. I've watched hot women at a bar shoot down 8 or 10 guys in a row before even giving one guy a dance, yet alone letting someone take them home. Which reminds me, change of subject. It's coming up on 8 years since dad passed. When are you getting back in the hunt? I loved dad too, but you are still of dating age. "
"I'll bet it was a young hot woman shooting those guys down. Believe it or not, I did tried dating a while back. You think it's easier being a woman? Try being an out of shape 40 something woman with limited prospects. All the guys my age that are reasonably successful and decent looking are looking for women in their 20s and 30s."
"Mom, you saying we are both SOL? Enough of this, just going around in circles, again. Lets clean up, start a movie, and drown our sorrows. We'll figure it out tomorrow. Well, some tomorrow."
After cleanup we got to our set movie positions. Beer and wine at hand on the coffee table with mom and me on the couch. I like to lay back and let mom lay on me with her back on my chest. Sometimes she curls up on her side, on my chest. Seems a little intimate but we have been watching movies like this since high school. I think we both just enjoy the human contact. I'll wrap my arms around her middle, with a blanket over us if it's cold.
Mom was letting me control the tv tonight. Started going thru some movies in Netflix and I stopped on Summer of 42.
"A good movie. What do you think mom?"
"I I've heard of it, but I don't think I've ever seen it. Any good?"
"Yep, just said it was. This is tonight's feature flick. Gotta make any preparatory runs before I start?"
"I'm good."
I really do love this movie. For the most part it's about a group of horny teenagers on a resort island for a summer during WWII trying to get laid. The payoff is at the end where Hermie and the (very) new widow do it. Hermie is supposed to be 15 in the movie, so it's verging on seducing a minor. During the scene, Hermie is trying to console a young woman who just found out her husband died in the war. The consoling turns into an incredibly tender moment where the widow takes Hermie into her bedroom. She just needs someone at that moment, and Hermie has been after her the whole movie. The only sound is crashing waves in the background. No sex scenes, no sex sounds, but you know what is going on. Next morning the widow is gone, off to some other life. Kind of a fantasy for me. In my book way more erotic than anything on porn hub.
"Well?"
"OK I guess. A bunch of silly teenagers, and that bit at the end made me kind of uncomfortable."
