A Mother's Love

Author's Note: A short, sweet mother-son story...with a bit of spice. Far from the type of story I would usually write though I thought I would give this a try. Happy Mother's Day.

"James?"

James slunk into his bedsheets with a groan as his mom called his name. She rapped on his bedroom door, anxious to come in but not wanting to overstep her boundaries at the same time. Sheryl Kroger was a great mother, the best any child could ask for. And on a typical day he would let her come in without hesitation. But James didn't want to face her or anyone, not now or anytime soon.

"Honey, I know these last couple of days have been hard but you need fresh air. I haven't seen you come out of your room in a week...?" The rapping on the door got louder, his mom's voice soft and laced with concern. She stopped and hesitated,

"You can't call in sick at school forever. It's perfectly normal what you're going through sweetheart. Everyone your age has acne..."

He rolled over and groaned in agony as his mom slipped into her pity spiel. This must've been the 10th time this school year. Everyone gets acne, she says, it's normal. Except everyone doesn't get blistering cystic acne that makes them look like Baby Yoda. It was the first time that not even star pimple patches could quell the deep red lumps throbbing under his skin. He felt like his face was sprouting a new nodule thinking about it. It took everything in him not to touch it. Touching meant picking. Picking meant bleeding. Bleeding meant scabbing. And scabs meant scars, deep rich brown scars that depressed his rich honey complexion. He knew his mom was trying to make him feel better. But nothing felt more humiliating than being pitied. And having cystic acne at 19 while others his age had clear skin was torture. It meant nonstop doctor's trips, medications and other attempts to treat the untreatable. It was one of the worst feelings ever. So as much as James wanted to open his door, he dismissed his mother's pleas.

On the other side of the door, Sheryl felt her heart sinking. She'd never seen her son so broken. She knew he had severe acne. But like most teens his age his acne always came and went. They were always able to get through it. At least that's what she thought. Now she knew how much of an emotional toll it was for him. It must've taken a huge hit on his self esteem. She raised her hand on the door as if to knock again but lowered it and sighed. What good could she do if all she could offer were hopeless words said before that never rang true? As long as they lived in a vain society, he would always feel inadequate with his acne. It reflected in his reserved and limited interactions with people. She never even saw him with a girlfriend before. Despite her encouraging him to put himself out there, he spent his weekends holed up in his room. He would do that for an eternity if she let him.

An idea came to her. With a newfound hope, she walked away from his room and padded downstairs to hatch out her brilliant plan.

~~The Next Morning~~

The next day, after James slept through lunch and dinner on an empty stomach, he woke up. The house was quiet. The feelings of guilt from yesterday rushed back into him as he remembered shutting his mom out. He knew his mom was only trying to help. But he wasn't ready to face her or anyone for that matter until his face looked less Shrek-like. Which by the looks of it would take weeks if not longer.

Sliding his slippers on, James trudged to his door when he froze with his hand on the handle. He realized he didn't actually hear his Mom leave. He just slept off. He shut his eyes and prayed that his Mom wasn't on the other side waiting to jump attack him. After all, that sounded like something she would do to try to lift his spirits. But when he opened the door there was no one there. Sighing in relief, he went to the adjacent bathroom and locked the door shut.

He gave himself a good hard look in the mirror. Acne aside, he felt that he was objectively good looking. Curly jet black hair, jade green eyes, and a cut jawline.

Light boyish facial hair framed a honey-dew complexion he owed to his father's good genes. But with his father's good genes were the crappy acne-causing ones. And he felt those washed any attractive features in his body down the drain. White and yellow pus-filled pockets of acne freckled his face and upper chest. Deep brown scars from older acne followed, reminding him of his year-long struggle. He gurgled his mouth with mouthwash, moving onto his skincare routine and mentally cursed his father's side for the p acne vulgaris gene passed down to him. What was worse, his father never had acne as far as he knew. His father wasn't even in their lives anymore. He got to live his pimple-free life with the woman he left James's mother for. He got to shatter their world, while James was left to pick up the pieces.

Pinching the skin on his chiseled rib cage he flexed his lean six-pack and sighed. At least he had a good body.

After he finished his elaborate acne routine, took a shower and got dressed, he headed downstairs to the kitchen. There, he walked into a scene straight out of "Legally Blonde". On the counter was a big pink wooden board with beauty products arranged by color, size, and concern. Gels, creams, serums, ointments, scrubs, powders, and lotions were all lined up on the tray. His mother's beaming face greeted him when he walked in. She wore a pink pastel shirt embroidered with "Sheryl K, ST '' and a matching skirt. Her brown curly hair was pinned up in a sleek updo and her makeup and nails were pink and polished. She looked like a black Elle Woods. In the midst of his confusion he couldn't help but marvel at how stunning she looked.

"Surprise!" His mom squealed with joy.

He paused to form the words. "What's all this?"

Sheryl's eyes lit up with pride. "What does it look like? I made a spa deck for you! It has everything the girls at my clinic use to pamper our clientele's skin. I made a few calls and they said everything was free, can you believe it? Don't worry. Since I'm a full time spa technician now, it won't come out of my paycheck. But I thought, instead of bringing you to the spa, why not bring the spa to you?"

"Mom." he sighed. Not this again. It felt like every time he had a horrible breakout his mom was quick to find a new remedy. "No."

Her face dropped. "No?" The sadness in her voice almost crushed him. "Why not?"

"It's ...it's too much, Mom. I appreciate it but all this...stuff," He gestured at the sheet masks, essential oils, and skincare products on the spa board. "is not going to make my acne go away overnight. I'll just have to live with my face like this until it's somewhat decent for school again."

"James Huey Kroger," Sheryl put her hands firmly on her hips. "You will not speak that way to me! You will not stand there and give up on yourself! You are my son and I want what's best for you. And I know you can't see it right now but there is hope, sweetie. There is always something you can do to make things better. But lying in bed and drowning out the world while you sulk will not be it. So please, just try it?"

James was stunned. His mother never looked so distraught. He loved her for caring and making this effort for him. But at the same time he was tired of his acne and of getting tired of it. He no longer wanted it to be his or his mother's burden to try to "solve". It always came and went, and he knew it would always be a part of him. In a few day's time it would go, and he'd be back to the miserable cycle he was always in. This time he wanted to endure the cycle without the delusion of hope.

But her puppy eyes told him another thing. Her words alone could make him melt. He felt like a dork for admitting this but he adored her so much that rejecting her even if he was right hurt him. He felt his mouth forming the words to concede to her but at the last minute he said tightening his jaw, "I'm sorry, Mom. Let me figure this out on my own, ok?"

He grabbed a piece of toast off the counter avoiding the look in his mother's eyes as he walked away. He felt a punch to the gut like he was walking away from the one light in his life. He headed back to his room but when he turned the knob he felt the wind knock out of him and tumbled to the floor.

"What the---!"

"I'm sorry sweetheart, but I'm not accepting your defeat like this!" His mother said, crouching over him. Did she just tackle him to the ground?

"Mom --!"

"No! You're not locking yourself in your room another day. It's Operation Go-Time!"

"What- this is insane! You're insane! I--" James panted, exasperated. It shocked him that his 5'6 150 lb mother Ray Lewis'd him as a last resort. And it hurt. He spit out the now defeated looking slice of toast from his mouth. This was going to be a long day.

~Sometime later~

Sheryl placed her hands on her wide motherly hips and stared at her handiwork with pride. With her plan Operation Go-Time in full effect, she was able to see what she was working with. James's room looked like a pig stye when she first walked in as expected of a depressed college teen. But in a matter of hours she was able to turn his dull and gloomy room into a bright and liveable place. She'd put away dirty food containers, folded clothes, and drawn the curtains wide. His room looked like a room again.

"Now this is more like it. You can finally walk in here without falling over and get some sunlight! Doesn't it feel great, sweetie?"

"Yeah. It'd feel even more great if I wasn't tied up." James grumbled, tugging at the scarf binding his wrists to his bed's headboard as he watched his mom hijack his room.

"I'm sorry for tackling you ... and for tieing you to your bed." Sheryl apologized, sitting beside him on the bed, "But I had to do something. I can't watch you wallow in self-pity. I just want my sweet happy son back," she grabbed his chin and planted a soft kiss on his forehead. "Let me help you."

"You've always helped me, Mom." James corrected.

"Well let me help you one last time." Sheryl said, exasperated. "Lord knows if your father were here, he'd know how to handle this better than me. But self pampering is my specialty. If I can make you feel good for one day that's all I want." She paused at how that sounded coming out of her mouth, much to James's amusement, "You know what I mean James. I want ---"

"Yeah yeah, you want me to not give up and be a downer on myself." He rolled his eyes. "I can do that better without these binds though." He gestured at the scarf tying his wrists together.

"Fine, but promise me you won't try to tackle me or lock me out of this room again?"

"I promise I won't lock you out." He said.

"AND you won't tackle me?" Sheryl added, smiling.

"I can't promise THAT, Mom. You know I have to go Ray Lewis on you to even the score." He cheesed with a grin. She chuckled. "There it is! There's that smile I was looking for!" And went to unbind his wrists. She pulled away when she finished and stared at him.

He tensed at his mother's stare but realized she wasn't staring at his acne but at him. Before he read too deep into it she clapped her hands together.

"Alright let's get this show on the road! It's time for the first phase of Operation Go-Time, or as I like to call it, Sheryl's Spectacular Spa Special!"

~The First Phase~~

The first phase of treatment felt like Hell. Tiny acupuncture needles pricked like spikes of pain on his face. When the tenth one pierced into his skin, James jerked up in his bed and winced.

"Ouch!"

"Sorry." Sheryl said, biting her lip at seeing her son in pain. Okay so maybe this wasn't a good first step.

"Why are we doing acupuncture again?"

"It's supposed to help with inflammation and target stress trigger points." Sheryl said, reciting what she'd heard from the ladies. The statement felt less and less true as the puncture spots looked redder and redder.

"How does it feel now?"

A few moments passed before James slunk back into his bed. "I feel...something."

"Like what, a tingle? Is it working?" Her question was answered when a needle sprung out of James's face and leaked a white pus substance.

"That's a no," James finished for her, chuckling. She pouted and started removing the rest of the needles from his face.

"I'm so sorry, sweetie. You were ri---"

"It's fine Mom," James cut her off with a sad smile. Inside, he wished he could crawl into a hole with how reddened and infected his face looked. But his mother didn't flinch or hold any disgust in her eyes. She was only focused on dressing up the inflamed marks. "Like I said, don't get your hopes up."

Sheryl let out a weak smile as her son tried to put on his best unfazed face. She didn't want to prove his point about her efforts being futile. But things were looking grim. Her gaze fell on a small brown beauty packet in the corner of the beauty board.

"I know - Let's start with that mask over there."

He followed his mom's gaze, slackening his needle-sore face. "Oh this?" He asked, reading the label over her shoulder as she turned the mask over in her hand.

"Volcanic Clay Mask... is this supposed to be helpful?"

"That's what the young girls at the clinic are using." She replied, scrunching her face at the ingredients on the back.

"What is it?" James asked, trying to read her face.

"Well... it says it's a bentonite clay mask with Volcanic Ash Clusters. It's supposed to minimize pores and suck out all the impurities and toxins from your face. But it's also really drying. I can't remember if I'm supposed to apply the clay mask first or apply the hydrating mask first and then this. Or maybe it's the Rhassoul clay mask, then the Bentonite mask, then the hydrating mask. Wait no, the - "

"Mom, " James groaned. "Just flip a coin."

"Really?" She perked up looking into her son's eyes. "You'll let me keep going?"

James couldn't admit it but having his mom being there was helping him. Even if it wasn't in the literal sense. Truth be told he wasn't sure if it was her motherly love making him feel better or...other thoughts stirring in him. Thoughts of her he knew he shouldn't have.

"Ray Lewis, you're not going to give up on me that easily, are you?" He teased. She gave him a playful punch and laughed with a newfound enthusiasm as she ripped open the mask.

~The Second Phase~

"How do you feel?" Sheryl asked.

James had on a thick layer of the bentonite clay-ACV mask spread onto his face. Ten minutes had passed since Sheryl applied the mask. Each minute it was on, he felt the lines in his face tighten and the pores in his skin shrink.

"I feel like a mummy," He said, each word a staccato as he struggled to move his lips. The mask had hardened his face to a mummified pulp.

Sheryl snorted and knocked on his rock-hard cheek with her knuckles. "My beautiful boy, smooth as a mummy. Riddle time. Why did people think the mummy was sick?"

Silence, then a deep sigh, followed. "Why?" James asked, already regretting his question.

"Because he couldn't stop coughin'!" Sheryl slapped her knee and snorted to herself. She piped down when she heard no response from James who stared at her in astonishment. It was moments like this he remembered he was dealing with a stunning but incredibly corny woman. "Oh, come on! Get it? Coughin', like a mummy coffin? That was a good one."

"Even if I could laugh Mom, which I cannot, I absolutely would not." He grumbled, cursing himself for agreeing to this endless charade of Mom jokes.

"Well I guess that one was hard to 'wrap' your head around." She waited before throwing into another fit of chuckles.

"Get it, James? Wrap your head, wrap like-"

"I get it, Mom. How many more minutes of this?" He groaned.

"The mask? 15 minutes. My infectious humor? Foreeevvvaaaaaa." She drawled.

"Oh, brother."

"Oh, Mother." She winked.

~ An hour later ~

After James washed off the clay mask, he walked back into his room where his mother sat on his bed waiting for him.

Sheryl looked up and froze when she saw a shirtless James at the doorway with a towel draping his shoulder. He used the towel to mop the droplets of water on his dripping wet curls. She bit her lip as she took in her son's appearance and admired what she saw. Even with acne he still looked charming. With his full mop of curls, a chiseled jawline and six-pack abs, he was a knockout. She was sure if he had more confidence in himself, he'd have no trouble getting girls his age...heck even women her age. Her gaze traveled to his waist where he was sporting low-cut shorts that hugged an impressive v-line.

What the heck was wrong with her? She jerked her head up, snapping back to reality as the realization of what she was doing hit her.

"Fun fact," He said, walking towards her as he used the towel to wipe the remaining clay flecks out of his ear. "Clay masks don't actually rinse off quick and easy. Well they do, if you don't mind them staining all of your clothes in the process. I would've put on a new shirt but I'm sure this won't be the first mess you get me in."

Sheryl gave a light chuckle, happy her son was back to his witty charming self. But she was also becoming self-conscious of how he looked---of how she was now looking at him. All these years he'd been her precious boy, when he was growing into a handsome young man before her eyes. She suddenly felt inadequate in her dorky get-up. She felt like the out-of-touch Mom trying to throw her adult son a Disney-themed birthday party.

"How does your face feel? It looks calmer." she said, trying to remain cheerful.

"It does feel better." he noted, touching his now-smooth face with his knuckles. "You should mummy me more often."

That earned the both of them a chuckle and overlooking the double-entendre Sheryl couldn't help but notice the deep bass in her son's voice as he laughed.

Her handsome son's laugh. She stopped laughing as she caught herself for the second time staring and looked away.

"So what's next on the agenda?" He asked, settling back into the bed under his covers.

"Oh, up next would be the..." Sheryl rummaged through her spa board. "The Aloe Vera Hydration mask." She picked it up hesitant to open the packet. James quirked an eyebrow at the change in his mother's demeanor. Truthfully he already felt less anxious and more self-assured with his skin. At the end of the day, it was a part of him but he was coming to realize it didn't define him. Now he was the Chipper Carson and his mother was the uncertain one. He wondered what had changed.

Sheryl swallowed, tearing open the packet before returning her son's gaze. She told herself to focus on applying the next mask and not think about the fact that she felt so confused. She was seeing her son in a way that she'd never seen him before, for the very thing she told him not to be insecure about. She was just as guilty as everyone else for overlooking him because of his acne. Except in her case, she was guilty of coddling him as her baby boy instead of seeing him for the man he was. As he laid down, she wondered if he ever had any of his firsts: first kiss, first love, first sexual--. Wait no stop, what are you even thinking, Sheryl?!

"Uh, Mom... the mask. It's leaking... in your hand." James said.

"Oh--shoot!" Sheryl snapped out of her daze in time to see the mask she was squeezing out oozing through her fingers. She attempted to scoop up the gooey mask back into her palm. James could only stare up at her from his bed in amusement.

"Just relax, sweetie." She whispered. She swung one leg over so she was sitting on top of his lap and glazed the chunky mixture over his face. At least if it dripped, it would drip on his face and not the bed. James shivered with closed eyes as soon as the cool gel touched his face. He sunk back into his pillow as his mom straddled him to trace the valleys and hills on his face with the soothing gel.