Mom Loves Saturdays

I am a new author, and this is my first full length submission to Lit. Constructive feedback is most welcome.

My special thanks to my editors Omenainen, younghrted2, and ChancesAre. Any mistakes left over are mine.

This is copyrighted material. Don't make me 'Jay and Silent Bob' stalk you.

There are scenes of domestic violence to fill in history between characters.

This is fantasy, not reality. All characters having sex are over 18, blah, blah, blah.

Enjoy!

~~~

The two a.m. laughter echoed down the block. Just after bar closing on a warm July night, many people were still out and about, so they had good company. The beautiful young couple's aura was infectious, winning many grins they were oblivious to. For a first date, this Friday night was going way better than Rob had dreamed possible. He was the one being hit on as they walked to his apartment.

Clair was so much more than the blonde bombshell she first appeared to be. She worked as a waitress at the time, where Rob also worked, to support going to law school. She was thoughtful and kind; quick with a smile or a funny line. Her favorite form of banter was to make references that went over people's heads. Rob, who worked as the bouncer, usually got them. She had him rolling with her 'dumb blonde' routine.

"...and my favorite color is clear," she said with a deliberately blank look on her face, for full effect.

That prompted another fit of laughter from Rob.

"My boyfriend is soooo dreamy. He's like five twelve or something...so tall. Oh, and smart. He's taking... what do they call it? Oh yeah,...Algae-bra."

He was doubled over and unable to breathe at this point. Literal tears rolled down his face. They continued up the stairs. Between laughing and being buzzed he could hardly get the door open quick enough.

No sooner had he locked the door behind them than his entire demeanor flipped. He ripped his shirt off and kissed her, hot and hungry. Those beautiful cerulean orbs were all submission as she looked up at her hunter, expectantly.

Wasting no time, he picked her up by her sexy ass and carried her to the bedroom. She shrieked all the way. Clothes were shredded as horny hands and lips went everywhere. They only stopped long enough for a couple of steamy kisses, mouths filled with dueling tongues. His hand was swimming in her wetness. He skipped the preliminaries, pushed her down on the bed, and fucked her missionary style.

Their mutual screams of ecstasy bellowed out into the night air, louder than their previous laughter had been.

Coming down and catching his breath, he started grinding in little circles inside her with his still virile manhood. She was so worth the months he'd taken to win her over.

The sexual tension finally broken, the kissing turned gentle and romantic as the phone began to ring. He looked over toward his pants, where his cell phone lay. Who was calling at this hour? He visibly waved it off and sank back into his lover's arms, letting it go to voicemail. Then it rang again, stopped, and rang again.

"You'd better get that. It must be important," she said.

"Fuck!"

"We just did that."

He smiled at her in response as he dug out his phone.

"Hello?"

"'Berto, es es tu tía Gloria. Tu madre está en el hospital. Llega rápido."

"¿Qué? ¿Qué ha pasado?"

"Damion la golpeó a un centímetro de su vida. Está aguantando un hilo."

"Voy en camino. Gracias por llamar. te amo. Adiós."

"Adiós."

Tears were forming in his eyes as he turned to Clair.

"My mom is in the hospital and hanging on by a thread. Looks like dad beat her up again. Bad this time. Please get dressed. I'll take you home."

"NO! No, go on. I'll get an Uber or something. You should go."

"Nonsense. Your place is on my way out of town, anyway," he lied.

She reluctantly agreed, and fifteen minutes later he dropped her off to start his two-hour drive back home.

When he got to his hometown it was almost six in the morning. His aunt Gloria was the only visitor left at the hospital. After asking around, he found out that his mother was at least stable. The emergency operation to relieve pressure and stop the internal bleeding was very successful, despite her malnourished state.

His mom had five cracked ribs, internal brain hemorrhaging, multiple bone fractures in her right arm, and several of her internal organs had swelling. There was also a bruise over her right eye. The whole right side of her face had swollen, and similar markings and lumps were all over her torso. Her arm was set in a cast, and her legs were heavily beaten. Her ankles were sprained, and a vast majority of her muscles were pulled. She was in a drug-induced sleep while recovering in her room.

******

Seeing her like this brought back a flood of bad memories. One, in particular, from when he was twelve. His dad Damion had found out his wife had applied for a job at the local clothing store. He had been more drunk than usual and mad as hell. Pure evil radiated off him, hungry for a victim. The front door slammed open so hard it knocked a fresh hole in the wall behind it.

"Via!? What's this shit about you finding a job?" He was yelling so loud the neighbors called the police again; before things got too bad again.

A very timid Olivia replied in almost a whisper. "Well, we both know that the money is so tight right now... and 'Berto is in middle school. I figured he could take care of himself for a few hours until I got home to make dinner."

He slapped her so hard she fell off her feet.

"I earn the money around here, and I determine if times are tight. Get back in the kitchen and get me a beer. Worthless whore!"

"You don't talk to Mom like that," Rob screamed, deciding he'd had enough. He stood between his parents. Rob figured if his dad was focused on him he wouldn't be hitting Mom.

"Get out of my way boy, I'm warning you," he yelled. He took a swing but Rob surprisingly held his ground, almost.

Rob had joined a boys club after school without Damion's knowledge. Three of Rob's favorites were wrestling, jujitsu, and chess.

What throws Rob couldn't duck, he blocked. His dad still had enough strength to knock him back or off his feet, but nothing vital was injured. His dad was in the middle of knocking Rob around when the police knocked on the screen door.

Despite appearances, his mom was able to convince the cops that they were only practicing. No charges were filed. After Rob had gone to bed, she still took an extra beating before being practically raped.

For the next four years or so, things remained about the same. His dad would have the sporadic extra drunken rage. He'd still come home drunk and beat up on his mother. Rob still defended her from the worst. She still lied for her husband and smoothed everything over with the authorities.

At sixteen, Rob's six-foot two-inch frame was beginning to fill out. He was at that point a brown belt in jujitsu and a tight end receiver in football, like his dad was. Rob, however, was now faster, healthier, younger, and a better fighter than his father. He was almost as strong as well. Most drunken fights where Rob had defended his mom usually ended in a stalemate between the men. It was only a matter of time before a final blowout.

One morning, his father came home after losing his job the night before and was more drunk/bulletproof than usual. Eventually, Rob was thrown onto the kitchen table breaking the legs from under it. With a table leg in hand, Rob finally had enough, and the reach advantage. If mom hadn't stopped him he would have killed his father.

Damion was hospitalized for two weeks. When mother and son went to go see him, the only thing Damion had to say to him was, "You! Get out of my house!"

Those were the last words Rob has ever heard him say for five years. Damion filed a restraining order against a Roberto King. A cop friend of Damion's owed him a couple favors, and a crooked judge was bribed to sign it.

As soon as Rob got back he made some phone calls and the quarterback's family agreed to 'adopt' him to let him finish high school in town. They got him an after-school job, and into counseling. He excelled in his new home.

For months, Rob would sneak back to the old home when his dad was gone, to try and convince his mom to leave Damion. She never would.

******

At the hospital, Rob called in sick to work, then stood vigil until she woke later that evening.

"Mmmm," suddenly escaped from the hospital bed, waking Rob.

"Mama. It's 'Berto. Can you hear me?" She always encouraged him to use English, except when unavoidable. He rushed to the side of her bed.

"My boy. Why are you here?" Her voice was weak and muffled, barely working.

"Don't be foolish Mama. You're always precious to me."

"My Angel," was all she could muster before sleep reclaimed her.

Under his breath, he whispered, "I'm done with watching you end up like this. As soon as you are well enough, you're coming home with me."

Olivia was looking better the next day. The bruises were beginning to show signs of healing. The worst was over, this time.

The doctor came in on Monday and things sounded good, considering. The arm was set properly. Internal bleeding had stopped, and her vitals had returned to normal. The doctor ordered a few days of observation to make sure the brain swelling continued to recede and, if things continued to go well, she'd be released the following Saturday afternoon.

After the doctor's visit, Rob put on his best poker face and began to confront his mother. "Mama we're filing a police report, and you're moving in with me."

Her refusal was expected. "No. No-no-no-no! I can't do that to you. What about your studies?"

Still Rob was beyond himself and wasn't taking 'no' for an answer. He was so mad he used her first name. "Olivia, how many times do we need to go over this?"

The silence was deafening. This was the first time he stood up to her like a man. She was both shocked and impressed, in equal measure. After a couple of seconds, she didn't respond, so he continued.

"He's getting worse, Mom. Do you think I'll be able to do anything, much less study, knowing the next time you'll be killed?" the bickering continued.

What finally convinced her to listen was all the flowers, calls, and letters that poured in from the neighbors, friends, and family. Each time it interrupted their argument. Her sister Gloria struck home the point that Damion never called; he doesn't care for her.

She relented. The police came by later that day to get a statement and start a restraining order. Rob was going to drive back to the hospital after she was released Saturday and put her on bed-rest at his apartment.

Rob was the picture-perfect visitor in the days before she was released. Visiting after work every day, and sleeping over when he didn't have to work, he attended to her every need. Damion never called.

That following week at work was a blur. Rob vaguely remembered explaining things to his boss, and then again to a very concerned Clair. Daily phone calls to his mother, eating ,and getting some sleep was about all he could manage.

Rob drove straight to the hospital from work, Saturday morning. After checking in on his mother and hearing that she'd be discharged in a few hours, he got some rest before he faced the next major hurdle.

******

That afternoon, Damion was drunk on the couch watching t.v. Rob burst through the door without saying a word. Rob shot his father a look that said 'I fucking dare you.' Damion calmly stayed seated; instead he reached for a swig of beer. Rob calmly packed Olivia's clothes and memorabilia. He left without saying a word.

A weight Rob didn't know he was carrying was lifted off his shoulders. After picking up Olivia from the hospital, the ride back to his apartment was surprisingly jovial. Rob picked a happy playlist to listen to, filled with songs that brought happy memories. She kept turning the radio louder as laughter filled the truck. It felt so good to have her back. A missing part of him had come home.

The song "Hope You're Feeling Better" by Santana came on. As the keyboards announced the song, a smile immediately filled Olivia's face and her head started bobbing. Her naturally auburn hair was extra wavy in the hot July afternoon, and it swayed as she rocked to the beat. She started moving her arms, getting into the music. Rob chuckled loudly as she turned her head slightly to notice.

With her in the passenger seat, all he could see was her left side. There before him was a flawless caramel-colored face and flowing locks of auburn hair. If he didn't know better, he'd swear that she looked more like twenty than someone old enough to be his mother. Her eyes were so dark they were almost black, and yet they reflected the light all around her. Rob's jaw just dropped. For perhaps the first time ever, he didn't see her as his mom. There was just Olivia, the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

She immediately became self-conscious and started to look nervous as the radio played. She was so programmed to assume that she'd done something wrong she began to look nervous. The longer the dead air lay there, heavy and oppressive, the more nervous she got. Finally, her tension got the better of her.

With a nervous chuckle, she said, "What?" ... " What did I do 'Berto!?!"

With a visible shudder, he snapped out of it. "Uh, nothing. Nothing at all. J-just, that ... you are so beautiful."

"Smooth" by Rob Thomas and Santana started playing next. She just smiled and returned to car dancing. This brought another laugh from Rob as they cruised down the highway. She started putting her Latina hips into it and immediately felt a slight pain.

Between giggles, she screeched, "I-ieee. I'm not ready for that just yet." Rob put a protective arm around her shoulders and she snuggled into his embrace. For the first time in years, she felt safe and protected.

They just sat there in the glow of each other's embrace, letting the radio play on. She watched the sky turn from yellow, to orange, to red, then purple. For the first time in years, she remembered that life is beautiful.

Before she knew, the truck stopped. He opened the door and said, "Mi casa es su casa. Welcome home!"

Olivia just sighed with contentment as she took in the humble surroundings. A small, efficient, and plain, but very clean apartment.

With all the authority he could muster, he proclaimed, "Go lie on the bed and I'll go get your stuff."

She did find herself quite drained from the trip and agreed, with some mild protest. "Ok, but only for a nap."

With a knowing smile, Rob left her to get her things.

The next thing she knew, the morning light of the next day was sifting through the blinds as she struggled to shake off the last remnants of a long-needed deep sleep. She raised her head to find a breakfast burrito and a large glass of water sitting on the bedside table. Her new medication from the pharmacy was next to that. A huge smile was on her face as she counted her blessings. She admitted to herself that she should have left Damion years ago.

She stumbled out of the bathroom to find her Roberto dead asleep on the futon; feet, and legs hanging off. Her adorable doofus.

She gently rubbed his back and whispered, "Come on, Baby, go to bed and get some rest."

"Huh?" was the slow and groggy response.

"You must be exhausted from work. Get some real rest before you have to go back."

"No, Mom. You need to recover."

"I

am

recovering just fine! I'm not going to have my son dangling half-off his sleeping area."

"I'm only twenty-one, and I can sleep anywhere."

"So. I'm only thirty-nine. And, I'm only five foot four. I can sleep on that futon way better than my overgrown son."

He saw the resolution in her eyes and caved. "Fine, but this afternoon we're getting you a topper and bedding." He didn't say a word about it, but all these little expenses were adding up. He started dipping into his college fund for this fall.

This is how the see-saw of power continued in the new relationship between mother and son. For the next few weeks, one or the other was always putting their foot down. She insisted that he continue on with school, no matter what. She was NOT going to let herself ruin his life. He insisted that no matter how tight things got, she would go to counseling and join a support group like Al-anon. His therapy helped him so much that he decided to become a social worker, after all. The only chores he was allowed to do was take out the trash and his own laundry. She wasn't allowed to see or handle the bills.

She got increasingly persistent about going to work and helping out financially. He was still concerned about Damion, and insisted that he couldn't make sure that she be safe if she worked. The following week a waitress position opened up at the bar and grill below them, where Rob worked. He pulled some strings.

Despite this almost war of wills, things were happy at home. There was always music on when Olivia was home. It was indeed a blessing not to have Damion complaining about the noise. She couldn't remember the last time she felt this relaxed, safe even. Rob had missed home-cooked meals and her company.

Things were smoothing out into a new normal. A judge signed the restraining order, and Rob found a lawyer to start divorce proceedings. Between her new support group friends and counseling, she began to have confidence again. The old Olivia was slowly returning, more radiant than ever.

One Saturday, Olivia started hanging family pictures up in the living room. Now, when you first came in, the first thing you saw was a portrait of mother and son when Rob was twelve. She hung her old dress from her quinceanera over Rob's katana in the bedroom, to look at when he was out. Happy times.

To keep in shape, Rob and Olivia began jogging together three or four times a week. Her legs and ass were always shapely, but now Rob was increasingly guilt-ridden from watching her toned legs and butt sprint ahead at the end of every run.

At the health food section of the supermarket, Rob and Olivia ran into Clair. After introductions, the ladies were quickly talking like they had known each other for years. Clair's new job as a paralegal was long hours, but she welcomed the opportunity it provided. The internship was all but a shoo-in for a full-time job afterward. She had begun studying for the state bar exam.

******

The weeks flew by and soon Rob had to start fall semester. Being so overprotective he asked yet one more time, "Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

"For the thousandth time, I'll be fine. The cast is off, and I can do anything I need to. I go to work in just a few hours, one floor down."

As he bent down to kiss her on the cheek, she turned at the last-minute. They kissed lip to lip and immediately three things happened: first, a shiver with the force of lightning went up both of their spines; second, Rob just stood there like a dork, not knowing what to say or do; third, Olivia completely forgot what she was going to ask.

She quickly dismissed the tension in the room. "Oh, they're just lips. Give your mother a hug goodbye."

With a relieved smile he did just that. "Bye, I love you," was spoken as he turned for the door.

"I love you too. Now get to school or you're gonna be late."

No sooner than he had shut the door, she began to hug her slender waist and feel warm tingles all over. It was heavenly. Olivia thought long and hard about the feelings she had for her son.

Olivia was slowly improving mentally. The sessions allowed her to deal with the emotional abuse of her father. She learned that it's okay to have opinions different from men, and a healthy way to voice those differing opinions. She would often talk to her support group friends. Realizing she was not alone, and seeing others be strong, awakened within her a fortitude she had long forgotten about.