My stay in college came to a halt when my mom called and told me that dad had left. He left with the car, the savings, my college fund. Everything.
Mom was going to have to move, and pretty quickly. So, despite all the fun I was having, I said goodbye to my friends at college and the girl I was dating. It would be a stretch to call her my girlfriend. I wasn't exactly a one woman guy while there. College was a buffet, and I was constantly hungry.
I took the train back home and wondered about what went wrong with mom and dad. Sure he was quite a bit older than her, but age usually isn't much of a problem. I know they'd been together for as long as I was alive, which was 19 years.
If anything I figured that mom would be the one to leave dad. She was still a gorgeous woman. She was 5'4 with curves in the right places and breasts, as I would find out, that were as firm as someone much younger than her age, which I guessed had to be just past 40. Her hair was a sandy brown and moved in waves down past her shoulders.
And dad had to be. ..I didn't know. He never really said. I think he was about 15 years older. But he
looked
much older. Though always nice to me, he certainly was the stern and dour type, while mom was fun and laughing. Maybe that was it. I know I got my height from him. Both of us topped out at 6'4 with wide shoulders. I was more like mom in temperament though. Perhaps he was so dour because I was too much like her. I had so many questions in my head.
I got to moms condo and found her crying on the couch. She looked so small and vulnerable. When she saw me she got up and threw her arms around me, holding me close and tight. I instinctively held her close and felt her warmth. My hands pulling her to me and my nostrils filled with her all too familiar perfume. For a moment my mind thought about her body. Just a fleeting thought. And then the thought of "don't think about THAT" followed quickly.
After a while, mom sat down again and we talked and I held her hand and let her unload a stream of consciousness rant about whatever was on her mind. She deserved that. She didn't need to think about how we had to move out of the city and where we were going to move and what we would do for money. Those were all things we could deal with tomorrow. Or the next day. But now, just letting it out was doing wonders for her.
Eventually she fell asleep leaning against me on the couch, he tear stained cheeks pressed against my arm. I looked down at her and smiled. Not at what had happened, but at what a beautiful person she was. Besides her outward beauty, her soul was as lovely as I'd ever encountered. I closed my eyes and fell asleep too.
Turns out my father screwed up and actually left the condo in my mom's name, so we got a realtor and before we knew it we had struck a deal to sell. We would still be short on money though, so we sold her SUV and kept my serviceable pickup.
Using the same realtor, we found a house in a small town about 5 hours away. Little town, no ties to the past, nothing to remind mom of dad leaving.
We spent each day packing and cleaning and getting ready to move. As the days rolled by, we became less like mother and son and more like roommates or partners. Or even, I didn't dare think, boyfriend and girlfriend. Minus all the fun stuff, that is.
One evening she had the music going and was dancing around with abandon. It was both adorable and a little sexy. I thought I'd tease her a bit.
"Not bad moves for an old lady." I smiled.
She turned and with mock anger threw a dishtowel at me.
"I'm not that old mister. Besides, no way you can match these moves." She closed her eyes and rotated her hips and there were flashes of sexual thought running through my brain as she turned and gyrated and showed me just how sexy she could be.
"Ok, fine, you got me," I laughed as she looked at me through her unkempt dance hair, "you can move better than me."
This got a laugh from her.
"Besides," she said, walking to me, "I'm not
quite
as old as you think."
She stopped in front of me, giving me a serious, yet vulnerable look.