A drunk mother and son comfort one another

The bartender reappeared and offered to refill Heather’s drink, but she lifted a hand to stop him. I, on the other hand, motioned the concerned man to keep the whiskey flowing. “That’s very forward thinking of you. But I have to say, from your tone you don’t sound like you want to be the cool mom.”

“Yeah well…,” I started before trailing off. Then with the alcohol acting as a truth serum, I threw caution to the wind. “It’s that I just got my son back ten months ago. You know truly back. Living with me and not just visiting on summer and Christmas breaks. At first, it was hard, the living together part that is. All these years living across the country from each other made his visitation more like a vacation than normal living. It was always who wants ice cream; sure you can stay up late as you want, and look what present Mommy got you. Now I have to be all do your homework; go to bed; eat your veggies. I hate it. And to top it off David was so aloof and shy around me. I worked hard to break down his walls, and it wasn’t easy. Sometimes it felt more like I was fighting with my ex than my son. Finally, I was making progress. David even hugged me in public of his own accord. Then…”

“Then little Miss Laura came along?” Heather finished for me as I stopped talking and stared at my amber brown liquid therapist.

“Yeah,” I said with a sigh. “I’m happy he found a girl. And she seems nice.” I looked up at the bright lights surrounding the bar feeling the familiar pangs of jealousy that were usually reserved for when I saw a guy I liked having an intimate cappuccino with an attractive woman at the local café. “I don’t know. Is it wrong to be jealous of a woman half your age?”

Heather laughed. “I think that’s the most common type to hate.” She then placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “You need to remember that David is your son, not the hot college student you are subletting a room to. If not Laura then some other pretty young girl is going to take him from you.”

“You’re right,” I murmured as I picked up my drink. “It’s just most moms have years to come to terms with their sons leaving them. I on the other hand have months.” But that’s not all, is it? That’s the real hard part, isn’t it? The part even in your drunken state you can’t bring yourself to tell Heather. That you, Sara Curtis, have a hard time seeing David as your son. All that time apart makes living with him seem exactly like Heather just described.

Then Heather gave me a look of concern. “I believe that you might need to slow down on the alcohol. You do need to get home at some time tonight.” She then pulled out a twenty and laid it down on the bar. “Be sure and call a cab I don’t want to find out you got a DUI or had a terrible accident.”

Heather then turned and left the bar. My gaze lingered on her until she disappeared out the front door. Why can’t I find a man like she has? Rolling my eyes at the injustice of it all I turned back around and downed my latest glass of whiskey. I pulled out my phone and fumbled with it for a moment before opening the Lyft app and ordering a ride share. “Check please,” I hiccupped. The bartender quickly took my empty glass and slapped down my bill before I could change my mind.

Please wait…

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