Hard Times with Mom Ch. 13

For the first time I felt like I had a pretty good handle on things. That feeling sure was nice while it lasted...

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It was a Saturday evening and Mom had disappeared into her room and closed the door. I didn't pay much attention at first, but after she was in there for a while I went to check up. As I approached the door I could smell the strong scent of her favorite perfume.

"Hey, you okay in there?"

"You can come in, sweetie," she called in a merry voice.

I opened the door and Mom was standing in front of her full-length mirror in a smoking hot dress I'd never seen before. Her hair was done up, with a few tantalizing curls dangling down at the sides. She had two different high heels on.

"Which goes better?" she asked showing off each shoe in turn.

"What's the occasion?" I stammered, still stunned at how sexy she looked all dressed up.

"Oh, didn't I tell you? I have a date tonight." She turned and consulted the mirror again. A dozen thoughts pinballed through my head, colliding with a wave of mixed emotions. I had seen her use this little passive-aggressive routine on my father before. I didn't know if I should be hurt by the fact that she'd turned it against me, or if it was a twisted sign that she was dealing with me as more of an equal instead of as a kid.

"A date? Geez, that's great," I lied without sounding the least bit convincing. "Anyone I know?"

"Nope. He's a salesman from one of our vendors."

"Nice guy?"

"Of course he's a nice guy," she tsked. "You think I'd go out with someone who wasn't nice? Give me a little credit, I'm not that desperate...yet."

Mom decided on the black heels with the thin criss-cross straps. The same pair she wore the night we went out to celebrate her new job. The same pair she had on when I made love to her for the first time. I felt like I had just been punched in the gut. Hard.

The doorbell rang.

"That's probably him," she trilled. "Go answer the door, I'll be out in a minute."

I opened the door and was confronted with a stocky man a few inches shorter than me. His ginger hair was thinning and going white on the sides. He had a broad face made broader by a wide smile that came across as that of a practiced professional rather than a genuine person. He held a sleeve of flowers, the kind you get by the checkout at the grocery store.

"My mom'll be right out."

"I'm Randy!" He said a little too enthusiastically, and held out his meaty paw.

"Yes you are," I replied a little snarkier than I should have.

I shook his hand and he had the overly firm grip of a typical salesman, but then he put a little more crush into it than was called for. I might not have looked like much of a tough guy, but my time on the job site had already begun to have an effect. I easily matched his pressure, then took it up a notch. I saw a flash of alarm register in his expression and he eased his grip. I held on for a few more seconds than was comfortable, just to be sure he knew where things stood between us.

"Good to meet you." He looked inside the house, flexing his hand without comment. "Nice place you have here."

"Thanks."

"Quiet neighborhood, looks like." He prattled on in his thick Texas accent, his body language indicated he was expecting to be invited in, but I wasn't letting him beyond the foyer. "I noticed you have the only place around here with lights on."

"It's one of the conditions of my parole," I said flatly. "No one can live near us after what happened to our last neighbors."

His smile faltered as he tried to figure out if I was serious. After a moment his smarmy smile returned, and shot me with a hopelessly lame finger pistol.

"Ah, almost had me there, boy. Don't forget, you're in Texas now. Try any funny business 'round here and we'll string you up quicker than a crawfish."

"What the hell does that even mean?"

"Are those for me?" We both turned at the sound of Mom's voice. She took the flowers from Randy and gave them the obligatory sniff.

"My, you sure do look great!" Randy didn't know where to plant his eyes and they danced from Mom's cleavage, to her hips, to her legs and back again.

"Thanks, a girl never gets tired of hearing that." She handed me the flowers. "Can you take care of these for me, dear?"

I took the flowers without comment.

"Yep, we should git movin', I made reservations at the steak house." Randy was eager to get out from under my glare and have my mom all to himself. My throat clenched, but I couldn't let Mom see how upset I was, for a variety of reasons.

"Have her home by ten o'clock," I called after them as they headed down the walk.

"That boy's tongue's gonna git him in trouble," I heard Randy comment only half-jokingly to my mom.

"Oh, his tongue gets him into all kinds of tight spots," she answered coyly, bringing a smile to my lips.

I watched them drive away, then closed the door. I dropped the flowers into the garbage and began the long, torturous wait for Mom to get home.

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Mom had another date with Randy the following weekend as well. I was a bit less on edge this time. It had become obvious to me over the week that my mom had no real interest in this guy. In fact, I don't even think she liked him that much at all. Which meant she was using him to get at me somehow.

One night at dinner, I ran through all the possibilities in my mind for the hundredth time. I looked over at Mom and wished I could see into that devious skull of hers and figure out how much of this was deliberate scheming on her part, and how much was merely subconscious acting out. I didn't want to have to call Aunt Linda for a professional opinion, but I was beginning to feel I was out of my depth.

After a lot of careful consideration, and exhaustive analysis, I settled on my next move. I headed down to the mall and started asking girls out.

It was a weird experience. I was always shy with girls, and never had the nerve to approach them. But I figured it was basically a numbers game, so there I was, walking up to complete strangers and striking up conversations. I got battered with a half-dozen rejections before I got a yes from a girl named Kim who worked at the perfume store. It's amazing what you can accomplish when you have a higher purpose motivating you.

We went out for dinner and a movie, and I did my charming best to make sure I'd get a second date. I never mentioned my new 'girlfriend' to Mom. I wanted it to be a surprise. For our next date I invited Kim over to watch a movie at my house. I rented a stack of DVDs, and cooked us a nice meal. It also happened to be the same night that Mom had a date with Randy.

Mom got home a little after eleven o'clock and was visibly shocked to find Kim sitting on the couch next to me.

"You're home early," I said. "How'd your date go?"

"Fine," she replied coldly. "Are you going to introduce me to your little friend?"

"Oh, sorry. This is Kim, we met at the mall last week."

"Hi." Kim peeped and gave Mom a cute wave along with a shy smile.

"Okay, I'll leave you kids alone. I'll be just down the hall, so keep it down."

With that Mom headed straight for her room at a pace that let me know she was none too happy. I felt a tinge of guilt, but if my calculations were correct, this was the right play.

"Your Mom likes midnight pleasures," Kim said out of the blue.

"Huh?"

"Her fragrance, 'Midnight Pleasures' by Dovanni. I can get it for her sixty percent off with my discount if she wants."

"She'd like that," and I couldn't resist adding, "my mom can never get enough midnight pleasures."

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Mom didn't say anything about my 'girlfriend,' although I knew it was eating her up. Kim was a sweet girl and I hated using her like I was, but I didn't have much of a choice. She called a few times during the week, and each time I waited for Mom to answer so she'd have to hand the phone off to me. It was a mean trick, but I figured every little bit helped.

Mom was playing her own tricks, though they were not nearly as effective. The day after Mom met Kim, I noticed the dirty magazines were gone from my room. I wasn't sure if this was her idea of punishing me, but she was definitely trying to send me some kind of message.

I decided to up the ante and suggested to Mom that we all go on a double date Saturday.

"I don't know if I'm going to see Randy again," Mom told me in a defeated tone.

"What's the matter? Won't he put out?"

"Don't get fresh, mister," she scolded and threw in a dirty look for good measure. "He's a nice enough guy, but I don't want to get tied down. I'm keeping my options open."

"Well, I promised Kim a night out. I can cancel if you don't want to spend the night by yourself."

"Don't be silly. You go have fun with your mall girl. I'll be fine on my own." Mom made the words 'mall girl' sound like something you'd scrape off the bottom of your shoe.

My mom had started up with another guy to make me jealous. And it did. If I hadn't known what she was up to it would have hurt even more than I allowed. When she saw me with a girl, Mom got a bitter taste of her own medicine. She realized how painful this game of hers was, and gave it up before we could hurt each other any further.

I had won this round, even though it didn't feel like much of a victory. Now it was just a matter of breaking up with Kim, and moving ahead with the final phase of my plan.

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Unfortunately, I still had no idea how to achieve that final phase. I had done a lot of work to this point. I'd established myself as a contributing member of the household. Mom and I had become more like partners and less like a parent and child. As difficult as it was, I had even stopped calling her 'Mom' when I talked to her. I had shown her that I wasn't going to follow along wherever she decided to lead me. She now knew that I had my own agenda, and my will was strong enough to follow it. And this latest exchange gave her a sense that I was tuned into her game, and could play just as well as she.

But now it was time to move beyond all those petty machinations and get to what was really important. I was ready to make the transition to being with my mother as a committed lover. It was time we stopped treating each other like sexual playthings, and forged a meaningful, mature relationship. Which, of course, would include all the wild, kinky sex that we both desperately wanted.

Kim and I went out for dinner on Saturday. I had planned on taking her to a movie as well, but I wanted to get home to Mom, so I broke up with her after we ate. I was hoping she'd be a little more upset, but she took it in stride. I can't blame her, I wasn't exactly the most attentive boyfriend under the circumstances.

I got home before ten o'clock and found Randy's car parked out front. Perhaps I'd declared victory too soon.

From the moment I entered the house I could sense something was wrong. As I tried to sort out what it was, I heard my mother scream.

"Get off me! Don't touch me! No! Stop it! No!"

My body was instantly flooded with adrenaline, and I was primed to detonate. I rushed to her room.

Randy was standing at my mom's bed, holding her down. His pants and underwear were crumpled on the floor at my feet. He loomed over her in just his shirt and shoes. Mom was kicking and struggling, continuing to scream. I wanted to tear his head off, but for a split second the possibility that this wasn't what it looked like entered my scattered mind. Maybe Mom was playing out another one of her many fantasies with him.

"Hey!" I yelled. "Mom, are you okay?"

Randy turned at the sound of my voice. His shirt was unbuttoned and his short, fat cock stood out in livid contrast to his pasty white belly. His hard prick was a deformed stump of a thing covered in thick blue veins. Its squashed head looked like it was put on crooked, and his yawning piss hole drooled a long string of clear pre-cum.

"Get lost, kid!" he roared drunkenly. "Your cockteasing Mom needs her pipes cleaned, and I'm the Roto-Rooter man." He grabbed his poor excuse for a cock and laughed.

"Go!" Mom called frantically to me. "Call 9-1-1!"

I couldn't see her face, but the fear in her voice told me everything I needed to know.

I was across the room and in Randy's face before I was aware I was moving. I was taller, and probably stronger, but he outweighed me by at least sixty pounds. He reeked of whiskey and beer, but the fact that he was drunk could work for or against me. I hadn't been in a fight since fifth grade, and had no idea how to defend myself. But none of these considerations actually factored into my thinking in the moment. In fact, I had stopped thinking all together.

Reality took a vacation when I crossed the room. It seemed as though I had stepped out of my body. Time slowed, my vision narrowed, every detail became sharp and vivid. My fist let fly of its own accord and connected with the left side of Randy's idiotic face.

He was still laughing when his brow split open under the force of my blow. The blood sprayed from the wound and his oily, salesman's smile was instantly drained away. Before the first drops of blood could hit the carpet, my other fist plowed into his jaw and I felt something crack. Then it was like someone flipped a switch and we were in fast forward all of the sudden.

I hit him six or seven more times before he dropped to his knees. My fists were covered in blood, and I was vaguely aware that it wasn't all his.

I brought my knee up hard under his chin. His head snapped back and he dropped flat on his back.

I fell on him in a blind rage ready to beat the worthless animal to death with my bare hands.

He covered up as I rained blow after blow down on him. My shoulders burned, and joints ached with the repeated impact, but none of that mattered.

I became aware of my mom screaming and trying to pull me off.

"That's enough! Stop! Please, stop!" she screamed.

The sound of her voice guided me back to sanity. Randy didn't dare uncover his face and remained curled up beneath me, hiding behind upraised arms. I struggled to catch my breath as I tried to order my racing thoughts.

"Do you know where his car keys are?" I asked Mom.

"In his jacket, maybe. In the kitchen. Should I call the police?"

"No, I'll take care of him. Wait here, I'll be right back."

I stood, grabbed Randy by the shirt and hauled him to his feet. I turned him to face me and he cowered under my angry glare. I seized him by his now limp cock and pulled him out of the room by it.

I dragged him like that to the kitchen where I yanked a butcher's knife from the block on the counter and held it menacingly at the base of his wretched little dick.

"No, please--"

"If my mother ever tells me she so much as catches a glimpse of you I will hunt you down and slice your balls off." There was a murderous menace in my voice that I'd never known I possessed.

Randy just nodded. His tears mixed with the blood flowing from his brow, nose and mouth.

"I'm not calling the police, because if I ever so much as catch a glimpse of you I will kill you without a second thought. I don't want this little incident to be on record when they find your mutilated body. No reason to make it easy for them, now is there?"

Randy shook his head as best as he could.

I slammed the knife down on the counter, which caused him to flinch violently. I grabbed his jacket off the floor and smashed it into his chest. He took it and held it tight as I once again dragged him painfully by his cock to the front door and out to his car. I threw him to the ground by the driver's side door, and barely resisted the urge to kick his balls into mush.

"Get the fuck out of here."

I left him lying there and went back inside, closing and locking the door behind me. I went to the kitchen and washed off my shaking hands. They were swollen and covered in small cuts, probably from his teeth, but I didn't think anything was broken. I splashed cold water on my face, and tried to calm down.

My mom was sitting on the edge of her bed when I returned to her. I was too keyed up to approach her just yet.

"Are you all right?" I asked immediately. "Did he hurt you?"

"No," she whispered. She seemed to be drifting in another world. Her night gown was torn, and I could see some red scratches high on her chest, but nothing that looked serious. "I opened the door, and he was there, and he just pushed me down, and I couldn't--"

"Don't think about it now. He's gone, and you're safe." I grabbed his pants and threw them out into the closet out of sight. I went to Mom's dresser and found a fresh night gown. One of her favorite flannel ones she always wore when it was cold.

"If you didn't come home when you did, he would have--"

"Let's not get worked up about all the 'what if's' and 'maybes'," I said gently as I helped her stand up. "Let's get you changed and into bed, and leave all that for another day." I lifted her ripped night gown, and she absently put her arms up so I could pull it up and off of her. She stood before me naked and exposed, looking so small and vulnerable. I quickly helped her on with the clean gown.

Mom fell against me, and I caught her in my arms. She finally broke down and began crying inconsolably. I just held her and let her get it all out.

"It's all my fault. I--"

"Don't do this to yourself, Mom." I pulled the covers aside. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I can't sleep in here tonight. Can I stay in your bed?"

We went to my room and I tucked her into my bed.

"Can I get you something?" I asked. "Is there anything you need?"

"I need you," she answered. "Stay with me, please."

I undressed down to my boxers and climbed under the covers with her. She turned with her back to me and I huddled up close behind her, wrapping my mom tightly in my protective embrace. I knew she was unlikely to be able to sleep, but I wanted her to feel as safe as possible.

As that long night slowly passed, I suffered an icy dread when I allowed myself to think about what my life would be like if I ever lost Mom. She was so much more than a sexual playmate, more even than the center of my world. She was truly part of me now, and I realized I couldn't live without her.

I held her tighter and resolved to never let her go.

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The next day passed in a quiet blur. I made Mom some tea in the morning, then ran down to the video store as soon as they opened and rented a bunch of those old black-and-white movies she loved so much. I got her set up in the living room with a comfy blanket and let her watch the videos while I cleaned up.

I scrubbed the blood out of the carpet and off of the tile in the kitchen. I put her torn night gown and Randy's abandoned pants in the garbage can out in the garage. His wallet was still in his pants, and I decided to hold onto it in case I needed it later.

Even though I didn't think she'd be in the mood to eat, I made us soup and sandwiches for lunch, then sat with her and watched the old movies for the rest of the afternoon. She obviously had a lot on her mind, and didn't feel much like talking yet. I didn't push matters, but stayed nearby so she knew I was there for her if she needed me.

Before dinner I convinced her it would be good to get out and take a walk. We strolled through the neighborhood hand in hand for over an hour. She was still quiet, but I somehow sensed that it wasn't fear or worry that was weighing on her, but rather she was lost in more of a contemplative silence. Again, I patiently stood by, and let her have her emotional space.

"Do you want to sleep in my room again," I asked Mom when it came to bed time.