This is not a wham bam story -- go somewhere else for that. I do welcome constructive feedback and contact by other members.
"This is your Captain speaking; we are now on our final approach and should be landing at the scheduled time of 2.40. Please fasten your seatbelts, ensure your seat is upright and tray is securely stowed".
I inwardly groan. It's taken nearly 30 hours to fly back from Perth, Australia, and I have hardly had any sleep. I'm so tired, my eyes are gritty, I feel like shit, and to top it all off, the old duck next to me has done nothing but fart and snore for the past 5 hours. Now she's all excited about seeing her grandkids again. Yeah, like I give a fuck!
My name is Tony and at the age of 24 my company decided they needed another geologist in their Perth office. It was a great opportunity for me as there is a lot of resource exploration going on down there. So I packed my bags, kissed mom, dad, and the twin's goodbye, jumped on a plane and headed "down under".
Now here I am, 2 years later, heading back home on my annual four week vacation. I plan to stay with the folks for about two weeks then head over to New York for a couple more and some big time partying.
I wanted to keep my homecoming a surprise but soon regretted that when 1 ½ hours later, after I had finally found my luggage and passed through customs, there was nobody to meet me. An anti-climax that just put me in an even fouler mood. When a taxi arrived I barked my parents address at the driver then settled into the back seat for the hour long trip.
"We're here buddy." were the next words I remember. I had slept the entire journey home and now the driver had his hand out for his cut.
Luckily I had exchanged some cash before I left Perth so I was able to fix him up and threw in a decent tip. "Sorry about the attitude earlier mate," I said as I slipped out the back door and grabbed my luggage from the trunk.
As I turned and walked up the short path I took in the old place. Nothing had changed much. Everything had just gotten older and worn. Even the brass knocker on the front door seemed to have little life left as I rapped it to announce myself. Finally, after what seemed like an age, the handle turned, the door swung open, and there stood my mom, Laura.
"Ugh," was all she could gasp as her mouth fell open and she immediately burst into tears. As her sobs continued she walked forward and placed her arms around my neck pulling me into her in the tightest hug. It was then that I could not contain myself any longer either. What energy I had left just evaporated and my tears joined moms.
"Hh hi mom," I say between sobs, "do you think I could come in and stay awhile?"
Mom lifts her head from my chest and with her right hand playfully punches me in the shoulder. As her sobs lessen she backs away and says "Get in here you!!"
I place my luggage in the hallway as mom closes the door. She then grabs me by the arm and leads me into the kitchen where I can see she is in the process of preparing dinner. "Where's dad and the twins?" I ask.
"The girls are upstairs, probably chatting on their ipads or something, and your dad will be home in about twenty five minutes," she responds, "but they can wait. I have missed you so much Tony, please stay with me and chat."
And chat we did as mom continued to make dinner. Mom told me that, now the twins are nine years old, she has gone back to work part-time. Then all about dad's new promotion and how it takes him away from home more and more.
As mom talked I looked at her a little closer and noticed a sadness that I had never seen before. For a middle aged woman of 46 my mom still looked pretty much okay. Probably better than just okay. She stands about 5 feet 7 inches with dark shoulder length hair that is starting to get a silver tinge through it. Her womanly hourglass figure is... well... motherly. You know what I mean, nicely curved and rounded but with a softness about it. But it is her green eyes I notice the most. The sparkle they once had was gone, and there is now a down turn to the corner of her mouth that I had never noticed before. I was used to my mother being vibrant and bubbly, now she seemed tired, worn and... well ...sad.
As mom started on the updates for the rest of the relatives, dad arrived home. My dad Sam is 48 years old and a good guy. Over the years we developed more of a mate-ship than a father-son relationship. We both seemed to like the same things and it was my dad who got me into the oil industry, the same industry he works in.
When dad walked in a saw me sitting there his face lit up like a beacon. He did not say anything but just took me in his arms, hugged me, while furiously patting me on the back. "Welcome home son," he said.
"Thanks dad." Nothing further was needed.
When the twins came down to see dad all hell broke loose. I was 15 years old when mom gave birth to twin girls. My parents had tried to have more children but it just didn't work out. I think they had resigned themselves to it just being the three of us when Wham!! not one but a double bundle. How often does that happen eh?
All through dinner everybody was talking at me, wanting to know how my job was, did I have a girlfriend, did I see any kangaroos in the streets, and on and on and on. As much as I might complain, I had a great time and it was a wonderful welcome home.
It was 7.45pm when mom said "Come on girls, bed time." Mom's announcement was met with a lot of Oh no's, and Oh please mom, and Jessica doesn't go to bed until 8.30. One thing I learnt growing up was that when mom said it was time to go to bed, then you would not convince her otherwise.
"I am gonna go now too," I announced, "I am really tired after the trip and feel like I am running on fumes. Is my old room still available?"
"Of course," mom said, "it's the same as it's ever been."
The twins scampered past on their way to bed yelling their good nights on the way. I walked over to mom and said, "It's great to be home again mom" then wrapped my arms around her in a hug.
She returned my hug then looked up to me and said "It's great to have you home too. We all missed you Tony. I missed you."
"Good night mom," I said, and without thinking bent down and kissed her quickly on the lips before breaking the hug and, walking across to dad, shook his hand.
"Good night son," he said, "and welcome home."
The next three days were a blur for me. I was completely zonked out with jetlag and sleeping for more hours than I was awake, which was usually in the middle of the night. It was Sunday morning when I finally felt completely sane again and met everyone at breakfast. All the questions started over again, but amongst it all dad and I made a time to meet at the local bar for a few drinks later that night.
I made a couple of telephone calls and headed out for the rest of the day to catch up with some old friends, some of which were now dating each other. The more things change, the more they stay the same, is right!
I meet up with dad around 5.00pm and we immediately fell into old time conversation easily. One round of beers turned into another, and into another, and into another. Dad told me all about his new job and added responsibilities, how he has to go away and supervise some of the drilling rigs, but also how mom is not very happy about him being away. He even told me that he and mom had an argument on Friday night after I went to bed. Apparently over the next month he has to fly to the Middle East every Monday but will return for the weekends. Mom had hit the roof.
"You can't go away when Tony has just got back," she had said.
"Aww, Tony's in this game too," dad explained, "he will understand if anyone can."
I told dad it was ok and I did understand. I knew how demanding the job could be and I had come home unannounced, so really, it was partly my fault anyway.
We got home from the bar about 10.00pm very much worse for wear. Mom was nowhere to be seen so I presumed she must have gone to bed. What really made it a lot worse is that our dinner was still laid out on the kitchen table. Mom had probably been waiting for us to get home and we had let her down. I felt really selfish and angry with myself, in a drunk angry selfish way.
I said goodnight to dad, had a shower, and collapsed on top of my bed in a stoned stupor, still naked and still soaking wet. Sometime during the night I felt the blankets being pulled up to cover me and then a light kiss on my forehead. And with that I felt warm, and safe, and loved.
I woke the next afternoon with one hell of a hangover. Mom was at her part time job and the twins were at school. I remembered that dad had to catch a plane at 10.30 so I guess he must have made it. If there is one thing I had learned from living in Australia is that the beach can cure anything. Even hangovers. So I grabbed my trunks, a towel, and the keys to dad's car, and headed out for some of nature's cure.
It was about 6.00pm when I finally got back home, still feeling like crap but at least a little better.
"Tony! Tony! come play," the twins yelled as soon as I walked in the back door.
Mom was in the kitchen again and looked up from the meal she was preparing. She could immediately see how bad I was feeling but didn't say a word, just cocked her right eyebrow and smirked, clearly indicating to me that the pain ain't over yet.
I went with the girls and played for about the next hour before mom announced it was dinner time. The three of us joined mom at the table where generous helpings of pie with potatoes, peas, and spinach were waiting for us. The conversation flowed easily as everyone told the group what happened in their day. It was exactly 7.45pm when mom announced again, "Come on girls, bed time," to be met with the exact the same protests I had heard previously. I soon realised this was a nightly ritual.
As mom put the twins to bed I cleared the dining table then stacked the dishwasher. I was still covered in sand and sea salt from the beach so I then headed upstairs for a shower and change of clothes.
It was about 30 minutes later before I came back down the stairs and noticed mom was now seated in the lounge with the remnants of a rather large drink in front of her. I presumed it was a gin and tonic because that is her favorite.
"Mind if I have one too mom?" I ask.
"Of course not son, and you can get me another while you're at it" she said.
As I returned to the lounge with the drinks, I said, "Is everything okay with you mom?"
"Everything is fine love, why do you ask?"
"Well," I said, "I have noticed that you do not seem as happy as you used to be. Sort of withdrawn and sad."
"Oh I'm alright," mom said, "I just don't like it when your father goes away. These days it seems to be more often and for longer."
"You know it's all part of his job mom," I say.
"I know," she responds, "Your dad is a good man Tony and he's always been a good provider. It's just that when he's gone... I have nobody to talk to... nobody to share my bed with... and its lonely."
