Note: The following story is entirely fictional and all of the characters are over 18 years of age. I have received numerous requests to add a third character to Miguel's fun. This is my first attempt to do so.
*
My name is Miguel and I live with my mother in the city of Boston. My father passed away when I was quite young and the two of us have been on our own for as long as I can remember.
As the summer before my freshman year in college wound down, my mother and I were relaxing at home one Friday evening when the phone rang. My mother got up to answer it and spoke briefly.
"That was your Uncle John. He and your Aunt Isabelle have to leave suddenly because his mother is ill. They don't want to leave Diego alone, so they were wondering if he could spend the weekend with us."
Diego was my cousin, and their only child. He had also turned 18 this past year. He attended a different high school in the city and although we were friendly, we were not especially close.
In my family, such questions are not really questions at all but gentle requests. In the universe of giving and receiving favors, a rough score was kept.
"He's coming on the T. Could you go pick him up while I try to straighten up this place?" mom queried.
"Sure, no problem." I replied.
I walked the short distance to the subway, fighting a growing annoyance. It was only for a few days, I told myself. Diego was a good guy, but he was rather quiet. We didn't seem to have much in common, so I was wondering what we would talk about. In addition, on a few occasions this past summer I thought I had caught him looking at my mother in a suggestive way.
"Hey, Miguel!" Diego called cheerfully as he stepped off the subway car. I smiled and shook his hand. He had a duffel bag over his shoulder. It looked like he was prepared to stay for a few days.
"Good to see you!" I offered as we began walking the short trek back home.
We chatted about girls, school and the upcoming freshman year in college. By the time we got home, I had relaxed and decided I was going to enjoy this weekend.
I pushed open the front door, and my mother emerged from the kitchen to greet us, drying her hands on a towel.
"Diego!" she exclaimed as she extended her arms for a bear hug.
Diego seemed eager to oblige, and then he planted a kiss on her cheek. Perfectly normal, I told myself.
"Have you had anything to eat?" mom asked.
"Uh...not in the last half hour..." he replied, and they shared a laugh.
"OK, come on. Miguel and I have already eaten."
We settled in the kitchen and my mom did what she did best, fuss and cook.
My mother is a beautiful woman. Not tall at 5' 3", but well proportioned. She has long brown hair that she often wears up while at home. Having had me at the age of nineteen, my mom was 37 this past summer. On this occasion, due to the extremely hot weather, mom was only wearing shorts and a short-sleeved blouse, in addition to her sandals. From many days spent at the beach, her skin was deeply tanned.
Mom was distracted with her cooking and didn't say much. Although Diego was talking with me, about sports, the family, and his job, I couldn't help but notice his eyes following my mother's movements, especially when she bent over to open a drawer or to check on the chicken baking in the oven.
Diego ate and then we retired to the living room to watch some TV. By 11:00 pm, I was thoroughly bored and excused myself. Diego would be staying in our tiny guest bedroom down the hall.
I entered my bedroom and lay on my back on my bed and tried to decide what to do next. It was too early to go to sleep, but I closed my eyes to think.
I awoke with a start.
