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Chapter Eight

Edward

Having regained some semblance of self-control over my body, I finally venture into the living room. Mom has turned the television on to the home screen, uncapped my beer, poured herself a glass of wine, and is sitting on the couch with her legs curled beneath her and the glass of wine cradled in her hand.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d want to watch, but we’re subscribed to a few different streaming apps, so I figured we could scroll through and pick something out together,” she says, holding out the remote to me.

I’m not really sure what to pick, but we’d always enjoyed watching horror movies together. Dad never really cared for the horror genre, so it was our usual go-to choice whenever he had to work late or was away on business. Picking an old favorite of ours, I settle back on the couch with my beer and slowly sip on it as the opening credits roll and the haunting tune kicks in.

While the movie plays, Mom leans forward and sets her glass down. Picking up the sealed box from our local bakery, she holds it out to me with a smile .

“I picked out some of our favorite donuts. They were freshly baked this morning. I didn’t know what you’d be in the mood for, so I chose a few different ones for you.”

Taking it from her, I lift the lid and peer inside. An assortment of fresh cream donuts is sitting inside, taunting me with all the delicious flavors. Spoiled for choice, my hand hovers over each one before I select a simple, cream-filled donut coated in powdered sugar. I pass the box over to my mom who immediately goes for her favorite—chocolate eclair.

She sets the box back down on the table and leans back on the couch. I watch as she takes a bite and laughs as a small blob of cream pops out from the end and coats her fingers. The laugh catches in my throat when she mock-glares at me for a second, then licks it off. My brain kicks into overdrive at the sight of her small tongue darting out to clean cream off her fingers, and I have to look away as she finishes her donut.

Sweet Jesus, I’m going to hell for sure, I think helplessly as I finish my own donut, trying not to choke on the sweet dough with how dry my mouth has suddenly gotten. I barely see the rest of the movie, even though I keep my gaze fixed on the screen. The beer in my hand tastes even more bitter as the minutes slowly tick by .

When the end credits finally roll, I glance over at Mom, who I see has fallen asleep. Her chest rises and falls softly with her breathing, and I can’t help but notice how much younger and more peaceful she looks right now. With a shaking hand I brush a few strands of hair from her cheek, tucking them behind her ear.

It’s easier to be around her when she’s sleeping. I don’t have to hide how much I love her, because she’s not awake to see and suspect that my feelings run deeper than they should. Sliding my hands beneath her—I have to make a conscious effort not to seek out bare skin—I lift her into my arms in a bridal carry and take her upstairs to her room.

I gently set her down on her bed, and as I go to the window to shut the blinds, she mumbles my name. I turn to look at her, thinking she might have woken up, but her eyes are still closed. She rolls onto her side. The vest she’s wearing catches beneath her, exposing her bra and the full curve of her breast.

I edge closer to her, and before I can stop myself, I’m tracing the outline of her breast with my fingertip. Marveling at how soft her skin is, I swallow hard as I more firmly stroke her over the top of her bra. The nipple tightens, poking through the lacy material, practically begging for my attention .

I glance furtively up at Mom’s face, and seeing that she’s still deeply asleep, I quickly shut the blinds and quietly push the bedroom door until it’s almost closed, but so I can hear if we get some unintended company. I shouldn’t be doing this. She could wake up, or Dad could walk in at any moment, but I’m unlikely to get another opportunity like this.

Stripping down to my boxers, I do what I’ve only ever done as a child. I climb into bed with Mom. The difference between then and now is that I’m now a fully grown man with adult needs and desires, and I want my mom in ways I never did when I was a young and naive kid.