My Son was up to something. I'm not sure what in his behavior tipped me off, but there was definitely something going on. I could just feel it. This was of a particular concern to me because my son, Alex is not really like other boys. He is small for one, though he just turned 18, he looks more like an underdeveloped 14 year old. He also has very effeminate mannerisms. He had such a hard time in High School with bullies that I thought I would have to home school him. Fortunately he is also very bright and so graduated early with the help of some concerned teachers.
I guess it is my fault in a lot of ways. I baby him because he is the absolute light of my life and he is definitely a Momma's boy. He was conceived while I was very young, still in high school. His father was a lovely boy, also small and effeminate. We dated for a while in high school and I ended up pregnant with Alex. Shortly after that his father came out as gay. His family was pretty wealthy and has always provided for us, particularly after my parents kicked me out of the house at age 17 for getting pregnant. His father has visited him a few times, but for the most part it is just Alex and I.
I have also not been the best at providing a male role model for Alex. It seems my attractions are evenly split between sweet effeminate men and really masculine guys. I have dated a few of the former, but always just end up breaking their hearts with the latter. Lately I haven't dated much at all, though I admit to bringing home the odd guy on occasion to meet my sexual needs, which isn't too much of a problem as I am still fairly attractive.
At 36 years old I stand a reasonable 5 foot 6 inches tall. I am of Italian American descent so I have a nice olive complexion and dark curly hair with hazel eyes. I am a bit on the curvy side and always have been, but I am not what most would call overweight. I have been referred to as "voluptuous", basically I have an ass to match my 38 DD breasts. Generally my dress style ranges from business professional to sexy. I usually wear dresses and skirts; I just never really got into wearing pants and jeans.
Anyway, I should get back to telling you my problem. I work part time in the evenings at a call center. As I said, Alex and I have always been modestly comfortable with the child support paid by his father's family, but I work because it wouldn't feel right to just sit around. Lately Alex has been bringing in a fairly large amount of money as well from his little computer programming business. That seems to be his one true refuge, computers.
Last Wednesday I was having just one of those days. I stubbed my toe cleaning our apartment; I misplaced my keys and was running late for work. When I got halfway to work and I saw that I needed to stop for gas too, well I just gave up and decided to call in sick. I turned around and went home.
When I got home I called out "Alex, honey I decided to call in sick today."
No answer.
"Alex?" called again and still no reply.
I went up to his room to see if he was OK and it was empty. I found the same thing in the computer room that he used. "Huh?" I said to myself, must have gone out. Immediately my stomach filled with butterflies. Now I know what you must be thinking, "geez, the kid is 18, stop being overprotective", but you have to understand, Alex is a very unique kid. His is a bit socially awkward and he just doesn't have what I would call "street smarts". On top of all that, he has never shown much inclination to be out on his own.
"Maybe he just caught the bus to the store for a soda or something." I said out loud to myself. I sat down to watch some TV, then cooked some diner, and as the minutes turned to hours I was almost in a complete panic as Alex still hadn't returned.
Then 15 minutes before I would normally get home from work, the front door opened and in stepped Alex. He was flushed as if he'd run for a couple of blocks, but he was otherwise OK.
"Oh! Hi Mom," in a surprised tone, "what are you doing home?"
"Oh I just got off work a little early and figured we could have dinner together." I played it calm, not wanting to be a complete freak of an overprotective Mom. "Where have you been?" I asked in casual tone that sounded forced to my own ears.
"Oh I just went out for a walk."
"Really?" I replied, "That's different".
"Yeah," he responded nervously "I just needed some air."
The lie hung in the air between us, thick enough to cut with a knife. I looked into his eyes and he immediately looked down at the floor, unable to meet my gaze. I thought about pressing the issue more, but then I remembered that he is 18 years old, it's not wrong for him to go out and have a little adventure on his own. Maybe my baby was growing up. It made me a bit sad, but I let it slide.
"Ok sweetie," I finally responded, "I hope you worked up an appetite."