Night at home.

I returned home at about 11:30 pm. Considering my sister was still out at Thomas’ party, one could say I was home rather early, but I had stuff to do on Saturday mornings.

I opened the door, and before I could close it, I heard something rather shocking from the living room.

“Okay, but don’t tell your dad, you hear?”

Was… Was that my mother speaking in a baby voice? I closed the door and went to check. What greeted me was the sight of my mother on the couch with Cake on her lap. The kitten was very obviously chewing something.

“You’re giving her extra snacks!” I said in an accusatory tone.

Mom grimaced at Cake. “We got busted.”

There wasn’t an ounce of guilt in Cake’s expression as she just kept joyfully chewing on whatever it was my mom gave her.

“You and Isabelle just can’t say no to her, can you?”

“She kept screaming at me in her adorable little voice,” Mom argued, chuckling and scratching Cake around the neck. “Besides, it’s fine when I do it.”

I crossed my arms. “What? How come?”

“If you’re her dad, I’m her grandma. It’s okay for grandmas to spoil the grandkids.”

“Why do people keep saying I’m her dad? She’s a pet, not a kid.” I went up to them and sat down next to mom. The TV was on, playing a gardening tutorial video that mom wasn’t paying any attention to anymore.

“Of course we’re just playing, dear. Don’t take it so literally. But aren’t you the one raising her? Sure, Isabelle is helping, but she’s the type to see her scratching the sofa and let her because she’s so cute.”

“I’m just… trying to avoid having a cat that’s a nuisance to the house.”

“And that’s good. I may not like this couch very much, but I’ll like it even less if she starts leaving scratch marks all over it.”

Surprisingly, Cake stayed with mom, even when I started watching the TV with them. I half expected her to jump to me and start screaming for more treats. The cat was kind of… entranced by the moving images, and while curled on mom’s lap, she watched the TV with calm interest.

“Work, school, the gym, your social life…” Mom suddenly said. “You’re putting a lot of effort into everything. I’m really proud, you know? You’re growing really quickly.”

I smiled wryly. “Catching up on all the growing I missed on these past few years.”

“It’s been, what, almost three months now, I think? I almost expected you to be losing steam already. I’m pleasantly surprised.”

“It’s… hard, yeah,” I admitted with a nod. “Work is nerve-wracking, studying is not fun, the gym is tiring, and having a social life is complicated and exhausting. But every time I think I want to go back to the way things were before, I remember all I have now, and I can’t bring myself to stop. Work gives me money to do the things I want. Thanks to the gym I feel better physically. Putting effort in school will help me in the future, I hope. And… It's good to have friends to talk to.”

Mom’s proud grin was then replaced by a teasing smirk. “And more than friends in some cases, I believe?”

I flinched. “What?”

“Those girls you hang out with,” mom said. “Are you sure they’re just friends?”

I felt a chill down my back, my mind making assumptions. Did… Did she know? Why was she talking in plural?

“I d-don’t know what you mean,” I said, looking away. My face was heating up. I think the fact that I was coming back from five hours of sex with those three wasn’t helping me.

“They’re all really cute, and they clearly like having you around. You’re a handsome young man, Oliver. Is there anything between you and one of them? Who?”

I almost let out a sigh of relief. Mom didn’t know anything, it was just the natural curiosity of a mother whose son was surrounded by sexy girls.

It… gave me an idea, an opportunity, even, to let a bit of the truth out. Just a bit to test the waters. It would require some… omission of information, perhaps even a bit of lying, and that made me hesitate the most. But something pushed me to try.

“It’s… complicated,” I said, looking down at my knees. “It would be simpler if we could just be friends, but…”

That wasn’t a lie. Things would be simpler if we were nothing more than friends. But simpler didn’t mean better.

Mom’s eyes widened. “Don’t tell me… D-Do you… No, do they… Do the three have…” she swallowed “a crush on you?”

I bit my lip before I spoke. “M-Maybe.”

Now THAT was more of a lie. Old insecurities aside, I couldn’t deny that the girls were into me. I knew that. Things wouldn’t be how they were if they didn’t.

Mom sighed. “Maybe the family curse affects men in the opposite way than it does women. I sort of hope so, at least.”

Wait, what? “Family curse?”

Mom chuckled. “Just something your grandma used to say. She claimed the women of our family were cursed to have bad, short-lasting relationships only. Her own father passed away when she was young, her husband was a deadbeat and so is your aunt’s. My husband passed away rather soon, too, and none of my relationships before him were very good. As far as I know, your sister has had pretty bad luck when it comes to boys, as well.”

“...And you believe it’s a curse?” I asked skeptically.

“I want to say no,” she laughed. “But the pattern holds, so who can say? But here my son is breaking the hearts of three different ladies, maybe more. I don’t know if that’s lucky or not. I… wish I could give you good advice regarding relationships, but the truth is I just got lucky with your father. For a few years, at least.” Mom let out a nostalgic sigh. “He was a good man. Too good, maybe, for a bad girl like me.”

“You?” I raised an eyebrow. “A bad girl?”

“Why do you think I warn you so much about bad company? Your grandma, your aunt and I used to live in a really bad neighborhood. My sister was scared, but I used to hang out with terrible people. Guys and girls prone to ****, drinking, **** use, and a few petty crimes…” She grimaced. “Better to be one of them than a victim, I thought.” She then frowned at me. “I didn’t do ****, mind you, and I never hurt anybody… that badly. A slap here and there, dumb fights, but after a while acting tough was enough to get the job done. I… drank a fair bit. Smoked, too.” She let out a humorless chuckle. “I used to act tough, dressed in leather jackets and rode a motorcycle. That’s probably the only thing I enjoyed back then. I still miss my bike. Whatever the case, they bought the act and respected me enough not to mess with me or my sister. That was always the objective.

“Years later, your grandma hits it big betting on horses. Like, really big. ‘Lucky at cards, unlucky in love’ she used to quote. It applied to horses, too, apparently. First thing we did was move out of that neighborhood. She then sent us to college. Once we had the most important things taken care of, she bet on horses again and won once more.” Mom shook her head with a big smile. “That’s the money that’s paying for your, your sister and your cousin’s education.”

“I knew that last part, but… I didn’t know you used to be… like that,” I said, softly.

“Of course you didn’t. It’s not a time I recall fondly, nor a story I enjoy telling.” Maybe sensing my mom’s declining mood, Cake began to rub herself on her. Mom smiled and started petting her. “It’s why it makes me so happy to see you working hard. I started a bit too late, and it made everything so much harder down the line.”

I swallowed. “I’ll work even harder from now on.”

“Relax, dear.” Mom chuckled. “ I’d like you and your sister to be good, responsible people. I just want you to be happy, okay?”

I smiled. “You deserve to be happy, too, you know? You work too hard for us.”

I think mom was shocked for a moment. She blinked at me before she returned the smile. “You’re too young to be worrying about your mother. Leave that for when I’m old.”

“So you’re young now?” I teased.

Mom put her fingertips on the top of her chest and smiled proudly. “8 years in my prime and counting.”

It got a laugh out of both of us, but I knew she was being serious. And I 100% believed it.

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