So, I got kicked out. While Jess frantically tried to explain things to Minnie, The house’s gatekeeper caught wind of something unbecoming happening in her beautiful home and kicked both of us to the curb. We were there for about 20 minutes in total, and are in no uncertain terms not welcome there anymore.

That’s gotta be a new record for something.

Jess was fuming. Mostly at the situation we were in, but also a little at me. She left shortly after we were defenestrated. I caught a bus home because there wasn’t really anything else to do.

This brings us to now. I’m currently delaying the inevitable on the porch, readying myself to step inside. The moment I do, I’ll be faced with my mother, and I don’t know what to expect. She normally has a few different ways of reacting after we fight, but this is the first time I’ve ever stormed out like this; It’s anyone’s guess how she’s feeling and what she’s going to do.

It is kinda cold out here though. I guess there isn’t a reason to delay any longer.

I unlock the door and swing it open.

The house looks exactly how I remember it, so I take a step inside, then another.

I walk to the room where I know she’ll be; the living room. It’s where she always goes when I’m not around to bother.

I peer around the corner into the room and am greeted by a truly pathetic sight.

My mother’s in an ill-fitting tank top and some old ratty pink pajama bottoms with hearts printed on them. She’s halfway through a quart of ice cream, and there are at least 2 empty containers scattered around the room. The TV’s playing some old movie while she tearily downs spoonful after spoonful of Rocky Road.

“Uh, hey mom.”

She slowly turns around, looks up at me, and says “Sam.” before turning back to her soap opera.

That was… anticlimactic. At least to the untrained eye.

It would appear that this time it’s the depression response. This normally happens after I say something that strikes a nerve. Of her standard reactions after a fight, it’s the hardest one to deal with.

If she gets angry, an apology is generally more than enough to suffice, but this is gonna take a little more of a measured approach.

I take a few careful steps, brush aside an empty carton of ice cream, and sit down next to her.

“Whatcha watchin’?”

She takes a few seconds, then speaks without looking at me. “Casablanca.”

“Wow, you’re going really old school.”

She shrugs and doesn’t respond.

This is the silent treatment; a telltale sign that she’s pretty angry as well. We’ve got a double threat. We’re now on Defcon 2. Things could go nuclear with just one misstep. 

I stay silent for a bit and watch the movie. There’s a part of me that wants to run away, but doing that would just make things worse. I need to hold my ground here.

She’s making no moves to say anything, and I don’t want to accidentally set her off, so maybe this silence is the best that I can hope for.

Minutes turn into a bit more than an hour in the tenuous silence. I wasn’t initially that interested in the movie, but it’s kinda got me hooked. I didn’t come home with the intention of watching movies, but I think interrupting this would've been a mistake.

“... Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

A large, old-school end slide rolls as Casablanca comes to a close.

Damn, that movie was a perfect 10. I always thought old-ass movies were dry and boring, but I guess not.

I turn to my mom, ready to say something about the movie before I remember that we’re currently feuding. I almost made a critical blunder.

It’s then that I notice the tears streaming down her face.

My mom doesn’t cry. The only time I ever saw her shed a tear was the day my dad died, but other than that, nothing. I imagine that was one of the effects being with my dad had on her. After all, he had the same effect on me.

So, as you can imagine, the sight of her ugly crying at an old movie shocks me a little bit.

Before I can say anything she blubbers out, “This was supposed to be a romance movie!”

I don’t quite get what she’s saying. “Wasn’t it?”

“He just let her go? And now he’s going somewhere with the policeman? What kind of ending was that?”

“But her leaving was romantic. He loved her enough to let her go.”

“That’s not romance; that’s sad! The movie was supposed to make me feel better, not worse!”

Aaaannd there it is. The chink in the armor. “Mom… about what I said yesterday. I was angry, I really didn’t mean it.”

“You meant it then! You didn’t just make it up!”

“I know, but I was angry. You’re a great mom!”

“Just say how you really feel! You think I’m a mess!”

“What? No! You’re one of the most put-together people I know!” It’s true as well. She’s got a highly successful career and still finds time to be a decent mom in her own way. I end up doing most of the cleaning and other household maintenance stuff, but I don’t mind.

“You don’t mean that!”

“I do!”

“You do?” She looks surprised. “You don’t think that I’m not around often enough?”

“You really make the time you’re at home count, believe me.”

We go back and forth for a while, her raising an insecurity, and me quashing it. Hearing some of the things that she’s bringing up, I think this has been building up for a while. Apparently, she thinks that I’ve been around less and lashing out more because she isn’t around enough, which is completely incorrect.

In other news, she’s switching to a half work-from-home schedule where she only goes to work physically 3 days a week; meaning she’ll be around a lot more. Skulking around to Laura and Carolyn’s places just got a bit harder. Oh goody.

She seems happy about her new work schedule, which I’m glad about, at least.

“So, are we good now mom?”

She smiles and says, “We’re good.” She leans over the couch to give me a hug, causing her loose tank top to droop and give me a rather unwelcome view of her breasts. They’re as big as ever and I'm able to see just a tiny bit of pink. It takes me a moment to pry my gaze away. I think there might be something wrong with me.

I opt to not say anything about the view and return the hug. I don’t want to fuck up the moment.

She stands up from the couch. “Alright, let’s go out to eat!”

“Where to?”

“I want something I'm gonna regret. How’s a burger sound?”

“Let’s do it.”