"Remember, next month we're having final exams. Keep in mind that this grade will make up a significant part of your evaluation. So if you have plans for going to college you better review..."
And so on and so on droned the voice of the math teacher towards the end of the last lesson of the day. I tuned out half of what he said, not that we wouldn't already know that exams are important and should be studied for. I flicked a pencil against the side of my pencil case over and over, counting the minutes until the bell would release us from sitting here in the mid-August heat.
My name is Martin Velez, 18-year-old senior student of a small town high school in Texas. I'm of Spanish heritage and I've been living here for over 15 years or so. I wish I could remember Spain sometimes but what can you do, I was basically a toddler back then. Who knows if it would've been just as hot as it is here.
Me and my parents moved here after my mother Verona married a US army soldier stationed near Barcelona. They fell in love when they were younger and after they had me, they sealed the deal and my mom moved in with my dad when he went back to America.
My father Gordon was a strict man, more like a drill instructor rather than a parent. I suppose he cared about me in his own way, giving me strict workout regiments and pushing me to succeed in any field of sports. He didn't care which one, he just wanted me to bring home trophies like he did when he was in school. I chose Basketball of all things and the day I announced my choice to him, he attached a basket to the top of our garage and challenged me to a match whenever he could.
He was enthusiastic for sure and I had fun most of the time as well even though he could be very overbearing.
And it would've been fine, if I was the only one at the end of his personality. Dad had our lives fully planned out. He would fight for our country and bring home the money, I would some day follow in his footsteps and go into the military as well and mom... mom would stay at home being a housewife.
And that very last part... was why our family as we knew it didn't last. When mom left Spain behind, she had just finished her degree in medicine. She wanted to be a doctor some day, but because she wanted to please my dad, she complied and stayed at home with me, always keeping on with a smile on her face. I knew deep down that she wasn't happy, and life in the land of opportunity wasn't what she was hoping for.
It all culminated in a fight between the two of them. Mom hadn't lost her Spaniard fire and for the first time in a long while, she told dad that she wanted to live a life of her own as well. After all, I was almost in college and she didn't need to stay at home anymore to look out for me. They ended up not coming to an agreement, both my dad and my mom dead-set on their life plans. Under the pressure, the marriage soured and sooner rather than later, my parents went their separate ways.
Mom took back her old family name and together with her, I stayed in a house not too far away from our old one. I could still go to school and now me and mom were free to do as we pleased.
We're struggling financially more than before but we're getting by. Mom took a job as a nurse. She wasn't yet able to continue her education to become a doctor, but it was at least something in the field she wanted to pursue all her life.
I had to wonder though if the exhaustion and stress was getting too much for her. I watched her come home at irregular, insane hours, almost always collapsing onto the sofa and falling asleep. I started preparing meals for her whenever I knew she would come home and I did chores in the house as soon as I came home but I never felt like it was enough. Mom needed someone to lean on.
"Also, even with your exam preparations, do not forget that we are having career days at the end of next week. Friday through Sunday, representatives of all different fields will present their work and show you what could await you right after you leave college. Please take this seriously and visit as many stalls as you can..."
As the bell finally rang, I got to thinking. What DID I want to do after school? I knew what I didn't want but I never gave the other options a serious thought. I knew I didn't want to go into the military, but what then. There aren't many options around here. Our small town consisted of a few convenience stores, a mechanic and the hospital mom worked at. I loved my town but more importantly, I loved my mother and if everything here was a dead-end job...
"I'd have to move away..." My heart sunk at the realization. After years of sticking by her, her working overtime to support us and me being by her side when dad wasn't... I was supposed to leave her behind?
On the way home, I kicked a couple of rocks down the road as I walked. The sun was scorching, but I barely even cared. Lizards and cicadas slithered and jumped over the beige sidewalk. With hands in the pockets of my jean shorts, I walked along the road and by the time I got home, dusk was beginning to set in.
I came back to our single floor house that looked like any other along the street. Red, wooden exterior, slanted, black shingled roof and a dark brown door on an red, shaded porch. I stepped inside, kicked off my tight shoes and stretched, relieved that I was finally done with school for the week. As I stretched though, I looked down and saw another, smaller pair of shoes.
"Mom?!" I called out from the hallway.
"Cariño, is that you? I'm in the kitchen!" I heard back from around the corner and followed the sound.
I entered the room, immediately smelling a meaty, hearty scent. Mom stood at the stove, standing with her back to me, next to a medium-sized pot, boiling with bubbling chili con carne in it.
She was wearing a tight pair of jeans, contouring her thick, wide hips and butt and a similarly tight-fitting, red knit wool sweater. It formed perfectly around her curvy body figure, lean in the center with an hourglass shape extending from it. Her breasts bulged out the sweater with their D-cup size and it was just short enough for a bit of her belly to peek out. It wasn't hard for me to see what dad saw in her.
Her well-kept long black hair was tied up in a curly ponytail, revealing her bare, pale brown neck to me. I stopped myself from examining her body any further, no matter how inappropriately fascinated I was by it and broached the more important subject. "How come you're still home? Doesn't your shift start soon?"
She gave a slight, exhausted chuckle in response. "We've got rolling shifts this week, sweetie. I'm not STILL home, I just got here about half an hour ago. We're short-staffed and need everyone's hands on deck at the hospital."
I cocked my head. "You just got here NOW? When did you start then?"
"Sometime around 7 AM. Don't worry about me, dinner's gonna be ready soon. How was school?"
"Fine. Just fine." I answered, only half paying attention to my answer as I approached her. "Hey mom, it's 7 PM now. You know that would be a 12 hour shift, right?"
"I'm fine, Martin, I'm fine. I'll just get dinner ready and then I'll take a nap. Won't take any time at all."
"Mom, look at me." I demanded in a strict tone as she kept turning her face away from me.
"Why are you so concerned about me, baby? I'm the adult in this house, I know my limits." She fake chuckled, still turning away from me.
"Mom... seriously... look at me." I repeated, putting more emphasis and sincerity into my words.
She took in a deep breath as she finally turned around and set down the long wooden spoon in the pot. She crossed her arms defiantly and half-jokingly rolled her eyes at my concern.
I put my hand to her cheek, gently tugging the side of her face with my thumb. Her usually vibrant hazelnut-colored eyes were glazed over and unfocused. "Mom... you have bags under your eyes, I can tell that you're exhausted. Why aren't you already in bed?"
She scoffed with a cheeky smirk. "Shouldn't I be the one telling you when to be in bed? So what if I'm a little tired, what kind of mother would I be if I couldn't even handle a little bit of cooking?"
I looked over her shoulder, seeing the chili pot hiss and spill over, quickly reaching behind her and turning down the heat before it got out of control. "A responsible one. You know I can handle the chores, so let me do them. You're already doing much more than you need to. Please mom..." I looked deeply into her eyes as she slowly seemed to give in.
She met me with a gentle smile and a nudge in the arm. "You're trying to grow up way too fast, Cariño. Tell me, how did I deserve a son like you?"
I chuckled. "Whatever it was, you've already paid it back." Until that point, I hadn't even noticed that I had cornered her against the kitchen counter with one hand planted next to either side of her. She was so close our bodies were almost pressing up against each other and I could smell her rose scented perfume.
Unaware of it, blood started rushing to my cheeks and... certain other areas. I gulped as I awkwardly kept eye contact with her.
She smiled a little awkwardly herself and raised her eyebrows at me with playful teasing words. "So... are you gonna let me go now, officer, or did you change your mind?"
"Yeahyeahyeah, you can... phew... you can go now. Umm... you can lie down on the sofa for now, I'll finish the chili and you can have some before you go to bed." I said as I backed off, trying to play it cool.
"Okay then I'll settle for that much." She laughed as she placed a sweet little kiss on my cheek. My heart was pounding. "Remember not to overdo it with the spices. There's a balance between taste and heat, try to hit that sweet spot." And with those words, she headed towards the living room, still smiling despite her visible exhaustion. With a little smile on my lips I turned to the stove and started stirring the boiling mixture.
A taste test confirmed to me what I already knew. No matter how well she played it off, she must have been really out of it. She forgot to put in any herbs at all and it was more soup than chili. I syphoned off the unnecessary exccess of water and started respicing it.
