My life had taken a detour. That's a good place to begin.
"Mom?"
She turned.
Mom was a woman with a lot of mass. When she turned to greet you, it was a bit of an effort on her part. She was a heavy lady, but she had a big heart. She was roughly my height, and I was average for a guy my age.
"Yeah, Ray?"
"Just wondered where you wanted this to go?" I held up the air mattress I had brought from the car. Bought it this afternoon.
"In my room," she said, but rephrased. "Our room."
I nodded.
Staying at Mom's was a last ditch effort to keep my bank account in the black. I had recently lost my job, and rent became impossible to keep up with. I had to move out before I was evicted.
"Sorry," she sighed, "I know it's not a lot of space."
Mom wasn't kidding. Her apartment was built for a single sleeper. The one and only bedroom was claustrophobic, and the kitchen and bathroom were even worse off in the spacious department.
"All good Momma," I said, putting my new bed on the floor. There was a slender table right next to me, sandwiched next to the queen bed that filled the whole room, pressed against the wall. The air mattress covered the remaining floor space, and then some.
"Never gonna be able to inflate this thing in such a small area," I mumbled to myself.
"What's that baby?" She wandered to the doorway. I looked to my left.
Mom was pale, morbidly overweight, and her brown hair was unkempt, but she was the nicest lady I knew, not being biased. She invited me to stay as long as I needed. It meant a lot, as I had no other options.
"Can't I put this in the living room, or the kitchen?" Mom didn't have a couch, just two sofa chairs, and you couldn't sleep in either of them. They didn't recline much, they were old, and at the end of the day, they weren't comfortable enough for sleep.
"You can try hun, but I don't think so." I took a quick look around. She was probably right. Hallways were narrow, and the kitchen wasn't really big enough. And this could be long term.
"It won't fit in your room."
She cocked her head, looking at the deflated mattress which was clearly too big for the space required.
"Might have to share the bed," she said.
My brain had a short circuit of sorts. I was simultaneously devastated by this news, as well as...honestly, I'm not sure what the feeling was. I didn't understand it. But part of me was...glad.
"Just until I find a job," I chuckled awkwardly.
Thankfully, my last place was furnished. I had nothing to bring over for furniture, or storage. Literally everything I owned was in my backpack, or in my car stashed in the underground parking, several stories below.
There wasn't any room in her place for anything but the two of us, and I was a little concerned about how tight it would really be. This was going to be a test of our relationship for sure.
It was already pretty late by the time I made it to her apartment. Soon, we'd both have to sleep before it got any later. I was going job hunting the next day, and Mom had a job of her own. She worked as a mail carrier.
Despite her full figure, she walked countless steps in a day. She'd been doing it for years. It didn't really add up until you saw her eat.
Mom loved to cook, even if it was solely for herself. The Italian part of her was crazy for pasta. The German half craved cheeses, sausages, and other processed meat. Much of it wasn't exactly healthy. The main reason I was happy to stay with her was the added bonus of eating her home cooked meals. And she made big meals.
She told me to help myself to her fridge, and I microwaved a plethora of leftovers from yesterday's goodies. I had already convinced her not to cook tonight and was happy to clear up some room in her fridge.
After stuffing ourselves, we brushed our teeth in her cramped little bathroom.
"I hope you'll have enough room," she said, spitting toothpaste into the sink. "The bed's a little small for two."
I waited for her to put her toothbrush away, then I squeaked by her and spat my minty foam down the drain. I spied a digital scale on the floor. It looked dusty and unused.
"It beats being homeless."
"If I snore, just wake me up. I sleep pretty soundly and I don't want to keep you up. Also, it probably goes without saying, but you'll want to sleep on the side closest to the door."
The thought of being pinned between the wall and Mom's sleeping body was intimidating indeed. I was growing more unsure about the logistics of this set-up the closer we came to giving it a try. Who shared a bed with their mom?
Mom was wearing a long, faded pink sleeping top. Like a long, baggy shirt. It extended down to her calves. I was in a pair of pajamas and a tee. Normally, I'd be sleeping naked. But that wasn't happening here. Unfortunate, as Mom's place was balmy, even with her crappy AC running loudly in the other room. It was going to be a warm night, and it wasn't even peak summer yet.
Mom turned off the light, and lumbered into her bed, which creaked under her weight. I could smell her sweat already. She didn't stink, but she smelled strong when she perspired. I crawled in after her, and was disappointed by how little space remained for me.
She turned towards her wall, which gave me a couple more inches, but I didn't feel comfortable pressed against her large backside, so I kept my place on the edge of her mattress. My leg stretched out and my foot rested on her cool linoleum floor.
"Sorry hun," she said in the small, dark, humid room. There were no windows. Just a few framed photos on the wall. The air conditioner by the patio was the only reason we weren't fully melting.
"I don't mind, Mom. Life could be worse than this."
"I know, but...I'm still sorry. I wish I had more room for you. Have a good sleep. Wake me if you need anything. Love you."
"Love you too. Night-night."
I didn't have a girlfriend at the moment. But I'd had a couple in the recent past. I always struggled with the part of sharing a bed with someone, when you suddenly stop talking, and just expected sleep to come easy. For me, I had always lay awake, struggling with insomnia on a good night, waiting for my brain to shut off.
Between the heat, the awkward proximity to my large but compassionate mother, and my anticipation of tomorrow's shameful resume handouts, I wasn't going to be falling asleep right away.
I lay there, just thinking about things. How Mom and Dad split a few years back, and how quickly he had moved on, and found a new girlfriend. How Mom got the short end of the divorce settlement, which barely allowed her to afford a down payment on a way too cozy abode.
I thought about my 20th birthday earlier this year, and how much money Mom had given me. As well as presents. And now I was infringing on her privacy, sharing a bed, which couldn't have been any less awkward for her. Maybe she normally slept naked as well.
Before I could chastise myself for such a weird mental detour, Mom started snoring. I would have guessed that ten minutes had passed since we last spoke, but maybe it was longer.
Her snores were deep, and reverberated through the whole apartment, but I wasn't about to wake her. I would suffer in silence.
Suddenly, Mom shifted, and rolled back towards me. Before I could react, half of my body was pinned under her hip, and her right thigh fell to the side, which covered my entire left leg. Her right arm slumped over my chest, and her palm twitched for a second, then lay still on my abdomen. Her snoring resumed.
I lay frozen, the weight of my mom resting motionless on most of my left side, save for the rise and fall of her chest as she continued to snore.
Her body odor was fairly strong. Her skin was hot and clammy. I was panicking inside, but I just lay there, plotting my reaction to this involuntary shifting in her sleep.
Again, despite how uncomfortable this moment was, in so many ways, a small part of me was lit up, as if a small current was running through my nervous system. And with it, I felt a sudden, shameful pang of guilt that made me feel sick to my stomach.
This was my mom. My overweight mom. And she was asleep. And none of this should be anything to be excited about.
Except, it was exciting. It was thrilling to me that I had, through a strange set of circumstances, been forced to sleep beside her. And it was exciting to be slightly buried under her heavy proportions. And most of all, it was exciting to me that it was her. My mother.
Nothing in my life, before this moment, made any part of that excitement logical. But here I was. Physical feelings for my parent.
