CH. 7
NEW YEAR'S FIREWORKS
I woke up the next morning laying on the couch, an afghan draped over me. On the coffee table in front of me was a large mason jar of ice water and two ibuprofen pills. Two ibuprofen? Then it hit me. A sledgehammer smashed into my head and my eyes burned as red hot spikes were driven through them. I squeezed my eyes shut as I was consumed by waves of pain.
Distantly, through a tunnel of agony, I heard the scuffle of feet and a booming voice speak to me. "Sit up and eat a little bit, you'll feel better soon. I promise." This was followed by a crack of thunder that made my head pound. My eyes still tightly shut, I sat up. My stomach lurched, my throat burned as a salty taste filled my mouth. I choked back the tide of nausea roiling about in my gut.
My head nearly exploded when a cannonball smashed into the couch next to me.
Gradually and carefully I peeled my eyelids open. The crack of thunder had been my Mom placing a plate of cheese and bread on the coffee table. The cannonball hitting the couch had been her sitting down next to me. Her eyes were puffy, her face a bit blotchy and her dark hair was an unbrushed and unstyled cloud. She sipped at her glass of ice water.
I took the pills, sipped the water, and took small careful bites of bread and cheese. Each chew rocketed a bolt of pain straight to my brain. Each bite welled up a wave of nausea that I had to fight down. But after an eternity, which was probably, a half hour or so, I once again joined the land of the living.
After we were finally feeling better. Mom snuggled up to me, laying her head on my chest. Her wild mass of hair tickled my nose, poked my eye, and almost made me retch when it scraped my tongue. I brushed her hair down with my hand. Mom took this as a gesture of affection and squirmed tighter against me. She was wearing a thin robe over her swimsuit. Normally I would have been rock hard by now but not even a tingle this morning.
"First hard liquor hangover?" she asked, speaking against my chest.
"And last..." I said, wincing as my own voice made my ears ache.
"Maybe..." Mom chuckled. "Hangovers are all about pain and regret."
I wasn't sure if she meant regretting overindulgence or perhaps she regretted the two drunken handjobs she had given me in the fast few days. I wasn't in the mood to ask.
After a few more moments of silence."You don't mind giving your old Mom a cuddle do you?"
I put my arm around her back and gave her a small squeeze. "Of course not"
Mom gave a happy sigh. In a few seconds, she was asleep. Her regular breathing lulled me to follow suit.
Fragrant hair filled my nostrils as Mom moved her head. I fought back a sneeze and brushed down Mom's hair. She was staring right up at me. Her eyes had lost most of their puffiness and her face had its normal complexion.
"I appreciate your patience with me. I know I've been a crap Mom for the past few days."
"You haven't been. Really. I know you're going through some stuff"
"I
have
been a crap mom and your sweet to say the opposite. I should've been spending precious time with you instead of wallowing in self-pity. You were right. I should've just talked it out with you at the beginning." She sighed. "Even after all the drinking and brooding I still haven't decided what I'm going to do."
This shocked me and pissed me off too. I couldn't believe my strong-willed Mom was being such a ... well, wimp. "What do you mean? Are you actually considering just going back to how things were? With him being, well let's face it, an absentee husband and father with a chick on the side? Hell no! Divorce his fucking ass!"
"Jimmy, language!" Yep, Mom was getting back to normal. Although she did giggle. "It's not that easy. I mean there's you to consider."
"Me?"
"Yeah, I don't want you growing up in a broken home."
I gave her a look like she was crazy. "I'm eighteen, it's not like you're gonna have to fight for custody." Mom jumped like I had just poured cold water over her head. "You need to do what's best for you. I"ll have to determine for myself how I'm gonna act around Dad. Right now, it's not looking good."
A deep sigh shook Mom's body against me. Her gaze took on the same mixture of pride and sadness that she's had around me a lot lately.
"You're right. I should've been arranging legal matters instead of crawling into a bottle. She grinned painfully. "Well, several bottles of very expensive liquor. I think a couple of my friends from law school became divorce attorneys".
Just when you think you know someone... "Wait ... what? You went to law school"
Mom smiled at my flabbergasted surprise. "Yep, for a year and a half. I loved it."
"What happened?" I asked hoping this was not going to be another story that would spin her into depression.
"Something came along that I loved even more."
"Ah", I said with insight, "Dad."
"No baby, you!" Mom hugged me tighter and beamed at me. "At first I was torn whether or not to carry my pregnancy to term but after my first ultrasound. Well, it was love at first sight. I decided I'd rather be a good mom than a good lawyer. I never regretted my decision. And I'm so proud of the man you've become. Although...."
"Although?"
"Although that's also been a source of pain for me. In the past few years, the relationship between your Dad and me has been... distant. Well, truthfully almost non-existent. At the same time, my baby boy has grown up. I suspected for a while now that your Dad had a girlfriend or girlfriends, but I was too cowardly to confront him about it. Not so much because of what he would say or do to me but because of the truth.
"When I saw his girlfriend, it confirmed my worst fears and I spiraled into depression. I was being tossed aside because I was old and used up. Previously, whenever I got upset or depressed I'd concentrate on a special part of my heart. I'd think about my sweet baby boy. However, in the last few years, I couldn't find comfort there either. Because whenever I thought of my baby boy, I'd hear your deep voice and be reminded that you were all grown up. My husband didn't want me anymore and my son didn't need me anymore because I was old and used up."
"Well, Dad's an idiot." I thought about my behavior over the past couple of years. About all the times I had acted like spending time with my mother was a burden, when I shrugged off her affection and was inattentive to her pain. "I'm an idiot too. I was oblivious to how bad things between you and Dad were, and worse of all, I couldn't see how much you were hurting."
Mom's only reply to that was to hug me tighter while a few tears coursed down her cheek.
We sat, silently holding each other for a few moments before I fell asleep again. I awoke a couple of hours later sitting alone on the couch with an afghan draped over me. A pair of sweat pants were draped over my lap and my boot cast sat next to me on the sofa. I didn't see Mom and wondered if she off getting all likkered up again.
I called for her but didn't get an answer. I turned on the tv and started to play Call of Booty. You know the game where you play a pimp or Madam and engage in urban warfare. I'd been playing for a few minutes when the front door opened and my Mom, looking like her old self, walked in carrying two shopping bags. When she saw me sitting there, she made a surprised Ohh! As she walked past me to go into the kitchen, she sort of hid one bag behind the other. I wondered if she had bought me another Christmas present to add to my other ones. She put away some food and then took one of the bags upstairs.
She returned downstairs in a few moments and sat next to me on the couch. She wore her usual winter weekend outfit of jeans, cashmere sweater, and converse slip-ons. Her hair was brushed and styled, she had on a little make-up and a bit of cologne. Yep. Almost like her old self.
Mom picked up the other controller. "Do you dare play against me?"
"Challenge accepted. What do you want to play? Super Mario?
"Oh, we can play Booty Calls or whatever it's named."
"Okaaaay. If that's what you want." I have her a wicked smile. "Expect no mercy!"
Mom's lips curled. "Very well... What are the stakes?"
"What?"
"Stakes... What are you going to do for me when I kick your butt?"
Evil thoughts flitted across my brain. Could I parlay this into another handjob or even a blowjob? Ahhh no. I wouldn't do that to my Mom. I didn't even intend to bring up the handjobs unless she mentioned it. "Tacos. You know from where."
Mom made a face. "I still don't know why you like those hard, greasy deep-fried slabs of cardboard. Okay, I guess I need to win. So my prize will be a foot rub. Both feet."
"Sure." I could already taste those tacos as I started a new game. Even so, I went easy on her and her Madam character kicked my pimp ass. "Best of three?"
She shrugged and "Sure" We played again and this time I played my best. And she kicked my ass again. Mom laughed at my dumbfounded look. "Don't be mad but sometimes I play your games when you're not home." Mom put down the controller, scooted back on the sofa, kicked off her shoes, lay down, and stuck her feet in my lap. "Do your magic, son"
Last year, having run out of ideas for Mother's Day presents, I had looked online on how to do foot massages, since my Mom was always complaining about how sore her feet were. I thought it would be a singular event but Mom kept asking.
I kneaded Mom's left sole and she sighed in contentment. I thought it would be a sneaky way to get information out her. "Mom, what did you get from the store?"
Mom looked at me over her feet with a sly and mysterious smile. "Some steaks, shrimp, chips, and dip. I thought since we weren't going to any New Year's Eve parties you and I could do something together. A Mom and Son.. party."
The way she said that last phrase made me pause. Mom frowned, "Hmm, I should've checked with you first. Since you're more mobile I guess you could go to a party if you wanted"
I won't lie for a second I was tempted but then reality set in. "I'm not really that mobile. Plus, since I was having a party I wasn't invited to any others. Besides I'm not going to leave you alone on New Year's Eve."
"Feel sorry for the old mom, huh?
