The calm before the storm

Saturday morning. I wake up at seven in the morning and hop out of bed. My morning lethargy seems to have dissipated throughout the week. Whereas before I would have trouble getting up before lunchtime, now I wake up with bright eyes and a hunger for the day. I use a glass of water on my bedside table to pop one of the nootropic pills and steady myself as the effects take hold, then grab some clothes from my dresser. As I look at myself in the mirror, I pause. I turn on the overhead light and my eyes widen in surprise. Whereas before I was a thin, lanky guy, I now see the faint shadow of muscle across my body, as though I've been exercising for months. I flex in the mirror, grinning at the changes in my body. I immediately recognize it as the effects of the pill, no doubt enhancing more than just my mind's performance, but it doesn't change the feeling welling in my chance. I've never been a super attractive guy, but I feel like one now. Who knew, a haircut, a shower, and a little (fake) weightlifting would make me look good?

Shaking my head at my continued luck, I slide on a fresh pair of athletic shorts and a clean cotton tee shirt. I check the clock again, for my own sanity. I have three hours until the exam marathon starts. Thankfully, they're all virtual proctored exams that I can take from the comfort of my room, at my leisure.

I go downstairs and start cooking some breakfast, my mind easily recalling how to prepare it just like Mom always does. Eggs cook in a frying pan, while bacon sizzles next to it. The scents are delicious to my enhanced nose, and I close my eyes to enjoy it for a moment. I let out a deep breath, smiling. It's strange to think how different my behaviors were only a week ago. The perspective progress before me makes me giddy, and I keep grinning as I stir the eggs.

"Oh, you're cooking breakfast?"

I turn around to see Mom leaning against the counter, still in her sheer nightgown. It isn't transparent by any means, but the material is thin enough to show every curve she has. Light shines through the material as it hangs from her chest, and a faint shadow implies her breasts resting against the countertop. She smiles at me, her eyes still sleepy and her blonde hair tied in a ponytail.

"Sorry, Mom. I didn't mean to wake you up. Want some?"

"That would be lovely." She closes her eyes and rests her face on the cool granite. I can't help but notice how sexual the position is; I turn back to the stovetop before I become too enamored by the sight.

"Eggs and bacon, coming right up," I say, and keep cooking.

"Alright, dear. I'm going to get changed."

I nod without turning. A few minutes later, I carry two steaming plates over to the table and prepare our placements. Just as I lay Mom's fork beside her plate, I hear her walking downstairs.

She beams at me as she turns out of the stairwell, and I can't help but pause and admire her beauty. Today she is dressed in a tennis outfit: pony tail pushing out of a sun visor, stark white athletic shirt, matching white skirt, and a pair of black tennis shoes.

"Going to play tennis today?" I ask, my mind speaking for me while I absorb the image of her.

"Meeting your aunt at ten, actually. We haven't played in a few months and I thought it would be nice now that the weather is warming."

Mom slides into the seat across from me and digs into her food. "Wow, this taste exactly like how I make it? Where did you learn it?"

"I'm not as unobservant as you think, Mom. I just did what I've seen you do a hundred times. Is it good?"

"You tell me, is my cooking good?" She giggles, and I nod in response. "So, what are you doing today? I feel like I've barely seen you this week. Locked in your dungeon, again." The smile on her face fades, and she pokes her eggs with her fork.

This is the moment that I have been waiting for. The start of the journey I have prepared and seeded over the past week. I've seen the void in my family, and I've seen the path forward to fix it. To be the strong man my Mom yearns for. The father figure that Kelly needs. The supporter that Ashley wants.

"Actually, I'm about to take an exam. A few, actually." I say the words lightly, navigating the conversation with my new knowledge of psychology and speech simmering beneath the surface.

"Oh? Exam? For what? One of your games?" Mom looks at me with interest, happy for me, despite having no idea what I'm talking about or the impact it will have on our family. She adjusts her sun visor and gives me an earnest look, waiting.

"No, not for a game. I told you before that I would step up. That I would be the man you need me to be. That our family needs. I meant it, Mom, despite if you have felt otherwise. I have been studying, actually. Starting today, I will be taking exams for Smithstone University. Each exam that I pass will grant me credit for a particular course. By Wednesday, at the latest, I will have passed all of my exams. I will have earned a degree in Computer Science, Mom." I can see the excitement bubbling up within her, her smile growing broader as she leans in, but I hold a hand up. "I already have business plans lined up for after I earn my degree. I won't let what happened to Ashley ever happen again, to any of you. I'll use every ounce of energy I have to take care of us. You deserve that much, at least."

No longer able to stand it, Mom leaps from her chair and wraps me in a hug. I smell lilac as she pulls my head into her neck, and I can't help but breathe it in with a satisfied smile.

"That's so wonderful, dear!" she exclaims, as she steps back. Her smile is the broadest I've seen in a long time, a thought that both excites and saddens me.

"Don't celebrate yet, Mom. I have to pass the exams first."

She rolls her eyes, still grinning. "You're my son, so, of course, you'll pass."

I laugh in response and can't help but feel the love emanating from her. I stand from the table and carry our dishes into the kitchen, then wash them in the sink. I look back at my Mom to see her just standing there, watching me.

"What?"

"I'm starting to believe what you said, before. That you're going to do better. I hope you do, dear." She looks away, then coughs. "Now, I have to walk over to your aunt's house. I'll see you this afternoon?"

"Probably not. I'll be working through these exams for the next few days."

"Okay, well. Come here." She holds out her arms and flexes her fingers, no doubt wanting a hug. I walk around the counter, and she wraps her arms under my shoulders and leans into my chest. Mom is a few inches shorter than me, planting her visor directly into my neck.

"Ah!" she says, pulling it off and tossing it onto the counter. "I hate those things."

"Then why do you wear it?" I ask as she rests her cheek against my shoulder again.

She doesn't say anything, instead choosing to just hold me in silence for a moment. Eventually, she leans back and plants a soft kiss on my cheek. "Good luck, dear!" The feeling of her lips against me since a web of sensation across my skin, and I immediately feel myself getting hard. Thankfully, Mom has already broken away and is heading towards the door. "You can do it," she says with one last look over her shoulder before the door closes behind her.

"I can do it," I assert, knowing she is right.

I head upstairs, eager to get to work.