All characters in this story are over 18. This story is complete fiction and a product of only my imagination. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, is a complete coincidence. Please enjoy this story and any of my others. Constructive comments are appreciated, as well as any praise.
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Thanks. Forever friendly, Doc Dino
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While working remotely in my home office, I received a call one Friday afternoon. I answered, seeing that it was my mother calling.
"Hi, Mom. What's up?"
"Oh, Honey...I just can't believe it." Mom answered with a shaky voice, one I knew meant she had been crying.
"Mom, what is it? You know you can tell me anything."
"I can't even say it on the phone. Would you mind if I came over in a bit? Maybe stay the weekend?" Mom asks quietly, this rawness in her voice.
"Of course, Mom. What time were you thinking? I should be done with my work in about an hour. Will that work for you?" I ask in my most comforting voice.
"Yes, Baby, that will be fine. I just have to get out of this house. And the news I have needs to be told to you face to face anyway." She sighs loudly.
"Okay, Mom. Get some things together and come on over when you're ready. When I finish, we can sit down and talk. Does that sound okay to you?"
"Yes, Baby. See you soon," she replies. I hear her start to cry again as the line goes dead.
As I put down my cell phone, I wondered what my father had done now. My father has never been a very accessible man. He always felt closed off and emotionally distant, which I never understood growing up and, I guess, even now. I will find out when Mom gets here, so I better get finished quickly.
Fortunately, the pandemic did one good thing for IT professionals like me. It allowed us more freedom to work from home and not have to work directly inside the buildings or companies we worked for. A couple of days a week, I could work from home and troubleshoot the systems my team and I monitored, plus do Help Desk tasks for anyone in-house needing things such as password resets, setting up new emails, and the like. I was also responsible for generating a few reports for the supervisor to assess the network health and Help Desk usage tasks and times.
Just as I finished my report and emailed it to my boss, completing my day, the doorbell rang. It had to be Mom, I wasn't expecting anyone else. I logged off my laptop and went to get the door. I opened the door and almost didn't recognize my mother. The normally impeccably dressed professional that Mom is stood there in baggy sweatpants and an old sweatshirt of mine from college. Her cheeks were ruddy from crying. I could even see where she had tried to wipe the last tears away as smeared tracks of moisture still lay on her cheeks. I simply opened my arms, and Mom rushed into them, starting to cry again.
I held Mom at the open door for a few minutes while she cried before trying in vain to pull herself together. I pulled back, looking into her hurt face, and said, "Go on into the living room, Mom. I'll get your bag into the guest room and meet you there." She nodded and walked into my apartment like a zombie. I grabbed her fairly hefty 'overnight' bag and carried it into my home office/guest room. I returned to Mom moments later to join her on the couch.
I wrapped my arms around her again, and her tears returned in full force. I held her, quietly rocking her like she had done for me as a child to help calm her. I also rubbed her back, alternating hands occasionally. After a few minutes, I realized I didn't feel a bra strap under the sweatshirt and wondered if Mom was not wearing underwear at all. I let that thought go for now and simply continued to hold and calm her.
After about another fifteen minutes, Mom seemed to cry herself out, but she kept hold of me, and I returned the favor. In another ten minutes, maybe, her arms loosened, and she pulled back to look at me with an extremely sad look on her face. I leaned in and gave Mom an 'Eskimo kiss,' rubbing the tips of our noses together, being a little silly and affectionate, like we did most of my life. Still now, at 24 and 44, my Mom and I are very affectionate and loving. The kiss brings a little smile to the corners of her mouth before she lets out an incredibly deep sigh.
"Your father told me he is gay and wants a divorce," Mom said all of a sudden.
"What?" I say, knowing what she said couldn't be right.
She sighed heavily again, then said, "He says that he always has been and had been lying to himself and everybody around because his father made him feel like a freak. So he buried his thoughts and feelings and 'Did the straight thing and got married, yada yada.' (using air quotes) But he does love us, just not as he should because he denied himself for so long." She sighs mightily again before continuing. "He has also been having a secret relationship with another closeted man in his office building. They have decided to come out and 'let the chips fall where they may,' he said."
