As Real as it Gets

“Mom! I’m home!” I call out as the door swings closed behind me. I hang my jacket and kick off my shoes and I am hurrying down the hall even before she appears from the kitchen to welcome me.

“My boy!”

We meet in the middle, throwing ourselves into each other’s arms for a long, hard, close hug. For me at least it was a moment of pure heartfelt bliss. Mom was holding me again, in that way only she could. Ohhhhh, I wish I could stay in this moment forever.

I bury my face in her neck and let out a joyful sigh. “I missed you. I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” She says with a catch in her soft voice. She kisses my cheek. “Ohhhh, my boy.”

Grabbing my head she peppers me with kisses and gives me a look up and down. Her smile fades a little. “Oh Donald, you look…are you okay?”

I smile. “I’m okay. Just a long night, ya know? You know how us young guys stay up all night. Ha ha ha!” I was downright giddy to see her again.

Her brows furrow as she studies me closer, her soft hand stroking down my temple. “Right.”

Truth was I looked like shit. I’d gotten very little sleep the night before and what I did get was shallow and patchy. With only fifteen minutes to prepare I barely had enough time to pull a comb through my hair, stroke a razor over my face, and give my teeth a hasty brush. And my clothes…they were downright embarrassing. Wearing the same jeans as the first time, only dirtier, and a the cleanest crumpled t shirt I could find on the floor of my room I must looked like a bum straight off the curb to her privileged eyes.

“Sorry.” I apologize for my shabby appearance. “I didn’t get any warning. My fault for not being prepared.”

“It’s okay.” She says softly. “My day only opened up this morning. I didn’t have much warning either.” She stares me in the eyes. “How are you doing Donald?”

“I’m…” I turn my eyes toward the kitchen. “…hey! Is that an apple pie I smell? That’s my favorite.”

“Hungry?”

“Starving! I didn’t eat breakfast.”

“Well then, let Mom take care of that for you.” She takes my arm and leads me into the kitchen.

As she makes me pancakes I sit there grinning like a fool. I was here! Back inside the fantasy. Oh, it was just wonderful. As she cooks she keeps interrupting our back and forth with persistent questions. “How are you doing?” “You okay?” “How are you feeling?” And other such probing things. I always answer them just the same. “I’m fine Mom.” “I’m okay Mom.” “Feeling great Mom.”

She wasn’t convinced. She serves me the pancakes she stands across the island from me with concern etched on her beautiful face as watches me snarf down the fluffy syrup soaked morsels or motherly perfection.

“Mmmm!” I smile and chew and swallow with exaggerated relish, showing her how happy I was.

Her concern only deepens. “What’s wrong Donald? Something is wrong.”

“Mmm, what do you mean?” I ask through a full mouth. “I’m home. What could be better than that?”

She narrows her eyes then shakes her head. “No.” She waves toward me. “This…this isn’t real. You’re acting like those other boys.” Her voice softens. “I want my Donald. I want my real boy.”

“What do you mean? I am real. Ha! Boy I sure do love your home cooking. Yum, yum, yum!”

“Oh my sweet…what did they do to you?”

“They didn’t…” My voice falters.

“What happened?”

My fork pauses in midair as I stare down at the half eaten stack of pancakes. “I’m…okay…”

“No, you’re not.” She reaches across and lays a hand lightly on my shoulder. “You can tell me.”

My hand trembles. My throat suddenly felt dry and the sweet taste in my mouth turns to ash. “This…this is…the last time…”

“The last time?”

“I’m quitting. I…can’t do it. I can’t…be…what they need me to be. What you need me to be.” I shrink, ashamed, in my seat. “They touched me Mom. Those women last night. They touched me and…said things…I…I didn’t like it. I…hate…them.”

“Oh my boy!” She covers her mouth, the glimmer of a tear in her eye. “My sweet child.”

I see and hear her false concern and I nearly wretch.

My eyes snap up to meet hers. “Okay…you want real. I’ll be as real as it gets. I’m scared Evelyn. I’m fucking scared.” I drop the fork, it clatters loudly to the plate startling her and causing her to flinch back. “I’ve got no fucking money. I got no fucking future. My sister’s a fucking junkie. Her life is falling apart right in front of me. She needs me and I don’t fucking know what to do! I can’t even look after myself! I love her! She’s…she’s all I got.”

Evelyn stares at me with wide stunned eyes.

“But the worst part, the very worst part…is you!”

“Me?” She gasps as if a dagger had just been driven straight into her heart.

“You want ME to be real? What about YOU?” I say, my voice tremors with pent up anger and pain. “Meeting you was the most…wonderful…thing…” I shake my head, not allowing myself to cry again in front of her. “I believed those things you said. I thought we…connected. I thought you liked me. But, but, you just used me. Your little boy toy. Your make-believe son. Just another in a long line of sons for hire. Kiki told me about you people. She said how you people don’t even think about people like me…and her. I’ll do it for you one more time ‘Mom’. I’ll do what you want Evelyn, I’ll say what you want, I’ll always keep your secrets. Just…please…stop pretending that you really care about me.” I thump my chest. “I can’t take it! Not…from you.”

By the time she comes around to my side I am already a sobbing mess. So much for not crying. My fatigued mind and battered spirit hadn’t the fortitude to handle this shit. She takes me into her warm, soft embrace and I collapse into her, needing any sort of kindly human contact right now even if it was just for show. She holds me. She kisses my head. She tells me that I am brave and strong boy. I don’t know if she was mocking me or not but I accept the nurturing words and cling to them just as I clung to her body.

“Donald.”

“Ye-yeah?” I sniffle.

“I’d like to show you something.” I look up at her to see her gazing down at me with a calm gentle warmth. There was no anger, no judgment, no offense in her clear hazel eyes. She takes the hem of her skirt and daubs my wet cheeks dry. “Could I show you something?”

Hesitantly I nod.

She takes me by the arm again and I follow. To my surprise she leads me out of the house, out the back door and out onto a large stone deck beyond which was a glimmering azure swimming pool. Taking a hard right she leads me along the house to a door situated near the corner. Taking out a key she unlocks the door to reveal a wide staircase leading down. There was a sturdy railing along one side and one of those chairlifts for the elderly along the other. She motions me to enter.

I descend down the stairs with Evelyn close behind and come to another door. I look back over my shoulder and she gives me a nod to continue. Opening it up I come to stand in completely empty basement suite.

“What’s this?”

“You’re new home.” She says. “Or so I hope.”

I turn to look at her. “You…want me…to live here?”

She lets out a nervous sigh. “Well, I wasn’t planning on showing you this so soon. I wanted to see how this time went, to see if what I felt was real, but…” She looks around the common room where the kitchen, dining room, and living room were all attached. “We had this done up for my grandfather. He lived here his last few years. We wanted him close but we knew he needed his own space. We never bothered to convert it back again. Alan and I in this big house, it’s not like we need the space. It’s been empty for a long time now.”

“You…want…me…here?”

“It’ll be complicated. I will have to talk Alan into it, which won’t be easy.” She says. “My husband likes quiet and he likes his privacy. If you are here you’ll have to be on your best behavior.” She steps closer. “If I can convince him to rent the suite he’ll leave all the details to me. He can’t be bothered with stuff like this. I’ll go through the charade of a process. We’ll have to come up with some story of who you are and why you need to live out here in this neighborhood. A story that’ll hold up. Neighbors and friends will ask questions.”

“But…”

As if reading my mind she says. “I…I didn’t know you were looking after your sister. I didn’t know it was that sort of thing.” She laughs, a sad laugh. “There’s so much I don’t know about you. We’re practically…strangers. I…I’m not sure what to say.”

“Me neither.” I look around me in disbelief.

“You said you couldn’t do it anymore?” She whispers. “Neither can I. Thinking about you…out there. I’ve been so worried knowing about you and your new job. It killed me not knowing how you were. I tried to call you but Diane said that clients and talent only speak through her. I wanted to bring you here but we’ve been so busy.” Closer she comes to me. “I don’t know how we make this work. All I know is that…I want my son under this roof. Under my roof. I want my boy here, with me.”

I bow my head, feeling terrible for doubting her and the things I’d said to her. “Oh Mom.”

Reaching out she takes my arms and squeezes them and gazes into my eyes. “Is this real enough for you Donald?”