The Kindness of Strangers

'No,' her voice broke as she spoke. 'No that's not what I... I'll stay out of your room,' she barely whispered, and I could see her eyes welling with tears.

Again, I felt like a complete dick.

I left the house and entered the garage and with my face still burning placed the broken vase on the workbench. What had just happened? She'd looked at the table and window and put two and two together. Her mind had immediately gone to my cum encrusted shorts. We'd essentially discussed me jerking off! What mother and son did that!? Despite the shame and embarrassment, a spontaneous chuckle came out of me, and I was shocked at my ability to find mirth in the situation. And then came the regret. I hadn't spoken to anyone like that before, going totally against my nature, and immediately I wanted to go back in and apologize. There had been some truth in it though, I quickly reasoned. What interest had she taken in me over the years? How could we just fall back into the role of loving mother and son overnight? The answer was, we couldn't. Or at least it wouldn't come easy.

I found the glue and looked at the broken segments of the vase laid out before me, a metaphor for our relationship if ever there was one, before carefully beginning to put the pieces back together.

*

I never really got a chance to make up for my behavior that evening. Well to be honest, I was just too embarrassed to bring it up again and I managed to avoid her for much of the night anyway. Monday morning, however, our paths inevitably crossed as we hurried to be ready for our respective destinations.

Memories of my childhood once more came flooding back and I reflected on how little events had changed. Competing for the one bathroom. Jostling in the small kitchen preparing breakfast. One thing differed starkly from the past, however, and that was my awareness of Mom's appearance. Had she always looked so good? It was impossible to ignore as she'd left the bathroom ahead of me; towel wrapped around her body with breasts heaving and (as I surreptitiously glanced behind) buttocks peeking. And when clothed. Opaque black pantyhose under a figure-hugging dress. Make-up that transformed her into a model and a scent that had me longing to embrace her, to cling to her body in the hope of absorbing her essence.

'We'll have to come up with a system,' Mom remarked, breaking the silence as she cocked her head (endearingly I thought) in the process of putting in earrings.

'For?' I questioned, having looked up from the map of campus I had open on my phone.

'The bathroom in the morning,' she laughed. 'That or we'll have to start taking showers together!' She jokingly(?) suggested and I scoffed in response, groaning inside.

'Well, if it all goes well today, I'll probably be out of here in a few days,' I stated. 'Maybe sooner,' I added unnecessarily, and the effect of the words was clear to see on her face, darkening significantly.

'I'm sure you're going to have a great time... living on campus I mean,' she attempted to sound enthusiastic. 'I have to say, I'll miss you,' she admitted, and I frowned. 'I know! It's only been two days. But, it's nice having someone around... to talk to.'

I didn't know what to say. I had to admit, it wasn't all bad being back there. Apart from the embarrassing situations I'd found myself in, the sexual frustration, and my seeming desire to pick fights whenever the opportunity arose.

'We can still talk,' I stated. 'I'll only be like, twenty minutes down the road. Speaking of which,' I looked at the time on my phone. 'That bus leaves in five. Gotta go.'

'Ok,' Mom took a couple of awkward steps toward me as I slung my backpack onto my shoulder. 'Um... kiss?' She shyly questioned.

'What?' I was admittedly taken aback. 'Oh... sure.'

And before I left the house, I had my wish granted. Her breasts pressed into my chest as our cheeks came together, her lips lightly touching my skin in the softest of kisses. I filled my lungs with her perfume and received goosebumps from her breath beside my ear.

'Love you,' she almost whispered and again I was caught off guard, ruing my answer even as I gave it.

'Ok... gotta go,' I flippantly responded and left with her fragrance now a part of me.

*

'No places available.'

'Really?' Mom questioned.

'In the on-campus dorms,' I elaborated. 'That's what they said. I was meant to organize it when I accepted the scholarship. I just thought I'd be able to do it in person when I got here.'

'So, what will you do now?' Mom asked and I could see her mind working.

'Well, the university can find me off-campus housing. I'll go check them out tomorrow. It's gonna cost more I guess, with utilities and all that.'

'Or you could stay here!' She proposed enthusiastically. Late afternoon, she'd arrived back from work before me and had changed into jeans and a tank top, showered also I guessed, her hair wet around her bangs.

I didn't answer directly, deferring. 'The bus took nearly thirty-five minutes,' I winced in response, although I had used the time to read and if I was living there, I'd certainly be saving money I reasoned.

'Yeah, that would be a pain,' Mom seemed to concede, and she looked down absently before finding my eyes again, this time exuberantly. 'Do you have any plans tonight? Later I mean. There's something I want to show you.'

*

The sun was setting as Mom drove us into the hills. I knew the neighborhood from movies and TV shows; lavish houses and luxury cars, Mom's Subaru feeling particularly out of place, and with her being mysterious as to our destination, I was on the verge of demanding an explanation when she pulled up in the driveway of a large, white-walled estate.

'Let's go!' She cheekily giggled as I followed her from the car and watched as she entered numbers into a security console, the gates opening to allow our entry.

'What's going on?' I marveled as we entered the property, a short, curved driveway leading up to the majority glass-walled house.

'Just wait,' Mom again laughed and surprisingly wrapped an arm around my own, her boob I noted pressing firmly into my bicep. 'It's a surprise.'

'Don't tell me, you've bought the place for me!' I laughed. 'It's gonna be a longer commute. But I'll deal with it!'

'Hah, you wish,' Mom smiled as I looked down at her.

'Seriously. What's going on?' I questioned her as we made it to the entryway, Mom releasing my arm as she again made to enter numbers on another security keypad before swinging open the front door.

'You'll see,' she ushered me inside. Clearly no one was currently at home, Mom flicked on the lights and immediately I understood why she'd brought me there.

'Are you fucking kidding me!?' I headed further into the house as I saw what was hung on a far wall.

The painting was huge. At least twelve feet square and as I neared, the layers of paint became more vivid. Color blanketed upon color in what was a remarkably ordered confusion.

'Mom!' I exclaimed, almost awestruck by the moment. 'Do you know what this is?' I stupidly questioned her, forgetting she'd brought me there in the first place. 'It's a Jackson Pollock!' I took a step forward to examine the surface, the paint nearly an inch thick in some areas before turning toward her. 'It'd be worth millions!'

'Oh, really!' She feigned surprise and again there was that smile. 'Come on, there's more,' she hinted, and I followed her gaze further into the house.

'No way!' I gasped as the Renoir loomed before me. 'Who the fuck lives here!?'

'Some bigshot accountant,' Mom shrugged as I glanced back at her. 'The agency's selling it for him. It's not one of mine,' she quickly added when she saw the enthusiasm in my face, imagining the commission on the sale. 'No, my colleague told me about the artwork. I knew you'd be interested.'

'"Interested", Mom, this is amazing!' I exclaimed as I noticed another piece, a sculpture of a thin humanoid figure. 'It can't be,' I moved closer to further examine. 'I think it's a Giacometti,' I shook my head. 'This alone could be worth more than this house,' I estimated.

'So, I did good?' Mom questioned and I turned to her once more, wanting to hug her, to kiss my appreciation.

'You did good,' I found myself uncontrollably grinning and it seemed it was enough for her, returning me with her smile, those beautiful dimples appearing in her cheeks, lines of happiness at her eyes as I explored further the myriad artworks the house had to offer.

*

'So, we're allowed to be here, right?' I somewhat belatedly enquired as we strolled from the house out toward an infinity pool, security lights illuminating our way.

'It's fine,' Mom assured me as we looked out toward the last remnant of the sun disappearing over the horizon, the city, a sea of candles floating in the darkness below us.

'How awesome would it be to live here!?' I proposed as Mom took a seat and I joined her on the lounge, the pool lit from below the surface casting liquid shadows across her face and surroundings.

'Well, when you're a famous artist, you'll have something just as nice,' she envisaged. 'And I expect an invitation to visit,' she added, laughing.

I nodded slowly and looked back at the house; the Jackson Pollock still visible through the windows before I again stared out across the darkened city.

'It's a far cry from a college dorm,' I scoffed and felt a hand upon my knee, turning to see her smiling.

'You'll find somewhere,' she whispered.

'It's not fake!' I stated, looking into her smile and then watching her frown.

'What? The art?'

'No. Something Dad would say,' I divulged. 'He said your smile was fake. A show for your clients. But it's not, is it?' I questioned, more a statement and she shook her head. 'He said everything about you was fake, from your hair to your smile, to your...' I paused.

'To my what?' Mom looked puzzled and mystified, and I allowed my eyes to drop from hers to her chest. 'Oh, no. Seriously? Really!' She laughed, scrunching her nose and I felt her hand leave my knee, rising between us. 'Give me your hand,' she grinned.

'What?' I breathed.

'Come on,' she took hold of my wrist, lifting it as she straightened on the lounge. 'Does this feel fake?' She cupped my hand under her breast, allowing the weight of her left boob to settle in my palm, her nipple hardening under my touch through the thin cotton tank top.

'I...' I didn't know what to say. I'd never felt fake boobs before, so I had no comparison, but to me, it felt pretty good, shaking my head slowly as she studied my eyes.

'Right!' she allowed my hand to fall away. 'Your father!' She rolled her eyes before laughing once more. 'I wish I could afford fake boobs!' She scoffed and I wanted to tell her she didn't need them, that hers were perfect, instead, fighting to prevent the hard-on that began forming in my jeans.

'Mom. Why are we here?' I asked her, not looking in her direction.

'What? You know why,' Mom chuckled but I felt there was no humor in it.

'No,' I looked at her. 'No, I don't.'

'What are you talking about?' She looked into my eyes as if waiting for me to go on before realizing I wanted an answer. 'Ah, because I love you and wanted to do something nice.'

'But why now?' I retorted. 'All these years, you were never there. No letters. No phone calls. You wouldn't even stay with us on my birthdays,' I challenged, and I hadn't expected the look of confusion she threw back at me.

'What?' She shook her head as if clearing fog. 'What do you mean "no letters"?'

'I used to love them,' I felt my eyes tearing up and looked away from her. 'The stuff you'd send,' I thought of the paint brushes, pencils, and other paraphernalia she'd package up until it all stopped.

'What are you talking about?' She questioned, forcing me to once again look at her. 'I never stopped writing to you,' she stated, incredulous at my accusation and the sincerity in her voice had me immediately feeling sick at the implication, if true.

'What?' I whispered.

'And you sometimes wrote back!' She looked confused when I slowly shook my head.

*

There weren't many. No more than ten, and the forging of my handwriting, down to the changing of style as I aged was staggeringly accurate, to the point, even I would've been hard-pressed to spot it as a fake. The sentiment contained, however, was far from my own.

'I didn't write this,' I looked up at Mom, beside me on her bed, her hand over her mouth and glassy eyes as she awaited my reaction. 'It's vile,' I reflected on the hate my father had spewed out on paper in my name.

'And you didn't get my letters?' A tear ran down her cheek.

'For a while,' I looked absently across the room as I thought of the past. 'But then Dad started picking up the mail from the post office. I just thought you stopped writing,' I admitted, and Mom let out a sound that was a mixture between a groan and a sigh.

'He stole you from me,' Mom whispered, and I reflected it was probably the first time she'd ever bad-mouthed him in front of me, despite the clear license that was forming.

"Don't bother calling me," I read. "I don't want you at my birthday," my father had written in my name, and I tossed the letter down on the mattress. 'This wasn't... this isn't me!' I looked at Mom, her eyes red, cheeks flushed.

'I know,' she nodded. 'I should've known. It's on me.'

'Don't say that,' I took her hand. 'It looked legit,' I acknowledged. Noting he'd even done drawings in the borders as I'd used to do. Having picked up my artistic talents from him.

'A good mother should've known. Ten years Oliver,' she sighed. 'Ten years he took from us.'

'Then we'll work on getting them back!' I stated and lifted her chin to bring her eyes back to mine, running my finger across her cheek to wipe away a tear. 'We can start again, can't we? Pick up where we left off,' I proposed, and I saw light once more return to her face. 'I could stay here if you'd let me. It'd save money anyway,' I said and as soon as I voiced it, I thought of my father's college fund. 'Oh Jesus,' I exhaled.

'What?'

'It was you, wasn't it?'

'What?' Mom looked confused.

'The college fund. The fifteen thousand,' I elaborated, and Mom laughed.

'Fifteen? My God Oliver. There should have been forty-five thousand dollars in there for you,' she confessed, and I didn't think I could've felt more hatred for him than I had five minutes before. If he wasn't dead, I could've killed him, and Mom must have seen the rage in me. 'It's only money Ollie,' both her hands wrapped mine. 'I have all I ever wanted back.'

*

I canceled the meeting I had with the university about accommodation the next day. And not having to compete for the shower in the morning, I took my time. The circular marks I'd noted earlier had been wiped away and it reminded me to ask Mom what had caused them. It was then I thought of the night before. But not the drama. The feeling of her breast in my hand, the memory of the firmness of her nipple in my palm had my cock in turn hardening and I allowed myself the pleasure of jerking off, Mom's perfumed soap cleanser lubricating my shaft and eliciting a joyous premature ejaculation.

With the house to myself, I called my aunt Leticia to find out if she'd known of Dad's deception and came away satisfied, she as well had been in the dark all these years. I did discover Mom had been paying child support to Dad the whole time despite him never mentioning it to me. Another lie of omission that was steadily destroying the legacy of the man I believed I loved.

Late in the morning I took the bus to campus and spent time in the library. I sought out some cool places to eat on and around the university and even coincidentally met some other students I'd be taking classes with. It was on my way home early in the afternoon, absently looking out the window of the bus and thinking about all the money Mom had paid out over the years for the upkeep of my life, that a certain shopfront caught my eye and interest, disembarking at the next stop to work my way back. It was the first time I'd ever done something like it, and admittedly, nerves saw me blushing during the entire exchange. But when I left the store and headed back to the bus stop, I felt like it was the best present I'd ever purchased for someone.

*

'Are you serious?' Mom exclaimed as she looked at the bag I presented to her, when she arrived home from work. 'Wet Waves! Oliver. What... why would...' She paused as she peered curiously inside the emblazoned cardboard tote. 'Oh, you...' She giggled as she removed the flimsy gold material. 'You didn't have to...' she was struggling to finish sentences. 'Oh my God, see, that's how it's supposed to look,' she held the bikini up to me, her fingers clear to see through the sheer gold fibers.

'Is it the one?' I questioned, knowing full well it was the original her bikini was based on.

'Yes!' she exclaimed. 'But you shouldn't have. I mean it's too expensive... Can I go and put it on?' She excitedly changed her tune and admittedly I hadn't expected her to be so enthusiastic, her desire to wear it immediately, was a better outcome than I'd envisaged.

'I mean, why not!' I tried to remain nonchalant, the day cooler than previous, not expecting to see it in action, so to speak, any time soon.

'Give me a minute,' she exuberantly hurried toward her bedroom, and I set about making us a coffee in the meantime, hoping for, but not fully expecting a fashion show on her return.

I didn't have to wait long.

'Ollie, I love it,' she declared as she hurried unashamedly back into the kitchen. 'You can tell the difference. It even feels better.'

It looked better too. But I think that had more to do with the wearer.

'What do you think?' Mom turned to present her rear to me, once more the limited string disappearing between her glorious globes. 'Yes, I know it's a bit, well... revealing. But I mean it's ok to wear around here, isn't it? It's so comfy. It's like I'm not even wearing anything. I guess that's the quality that you're paying for!'

She was gushing and her enthusiasm brought a smile to my face. It felt like she wasn't wearing anything because indeed it also looked like it. Yes, her boobs and pussy were covered by the thinnest gold material, but it was also entirely see-through, and given license to ogle her sex, I didn't waste the opportunity.

'You're not saying anything!' She remarked. 'Is that a bad sign?' Her face began to redden. 'I mean everyone wears stuff like this nowadays, don't they?'

'Sure!' I blurted out, encouraging her. 'No, you look good Mom. It... it suits you,' I admitted and marveled at how unselfconscious she appeared to be to essentially present herself naked before her son.

'Thank you,' she gave a coy smile. 'Come here you,' she giggled and moved in to initiate an embrace, her breasts hard against my chest, my hands on her back to gently caress the warmth of her naked skin. I began to stiffen and though loathe to lose the connection, thanked God when she pulled out of the welcome affection.

'You're welcome,' I breathed. 'I can't make up for what's happened...' I attempted to say before she cut me off.

'Let's not,' she shook her head. 'It's a new beginning Honey. We don't need to go back,' she smiled before pausing and changing the subject. 'Now, I don't have to take it off yet do I? I could wear this all day!'

She didn't wear it for the rest of the day, but we did sit in the living room drinking our coffees together, and if she noticed the hard-on in my jeans the entire time, she didn't let on. Subtle movement would see a nipple slip out of its bonds and whether it was a show or not, she seemed embarrassed by the malfunctions when they occurred.

'Whoops,' she giggled. 'I guess now there's a man around the house, I should probably be more careful.'