The flight would take a couple of hours so I settled back in the relative comfort of business class, enjoying the space and attention from the stewards, constantly asking if I was hungry, thirsty or required anything. With plenty of time, I enjoyed the ambience and found my mind wandering to thoughts of home and the future.
Not to gloat but I am a rather intelligent young man, though I can say that thanks to a certain pair of genes, those being from my mother, Susan. Or Sue. Sometimes even Susie. To me, she was just Mum. She did make a mistake by falling pregnant with me at a young age, before she’d even graduated high school. The man who fathered me showed no interest and quickly disappeared from the scene, but that didn’t stop her from giving birth to me, completing her studies and graduating with high marks before obtaining a scholarship to university. Despite being a young mother, she managed to juggle motherhood and her class work, and though she split each year by doing six months’ full time and six months’ part time, she graduated only a year later than anyone she may have started with.
Mum noticed my intelligence at an early age and did everything possible to ensure I was always learning. She pushed me and, while annoying at times, I understood why. She wanted me to be the best I can be and not to waste any gifts I may have. I graduated primary school quicker than the other children of a similar age before graduating high school by the time I was sixteen. A number of universities clamoured for my signature and I eventually agreed to what I considered the best.
After only four years of hard graft and solid work, I graduated near enough to top of the class, with honours, and with a number of companies offering me contracts for work. I spoke to Mum about it and she suggested I move home and work for her company, explaining the benefits of why that would be a good choice. Considering she’d never steered me wrong before, I chose her company and would return home once I’d graduated.
I’d seen Mum at graduation, but wasn’t surprised that she had to rush home and back to work, though I knew she’d be at the airport to meet me. I’ll admit I was looking forward to returning home. I enjoyed living at the dormitory, but I found that, apart from my close friends, I had little in common with many of my fellow students. I know I spent a lot of my time studying, and while I tried to socialise, I’ll also admit that it wasn’t my forte.
Once we’d landed and I’d grabbed my bag, I wandered out into the departure lounge, looking for the blonde hair of my mum. I was about six-foot-tall, so could see over most of the crowd, but couldn’t see her anywhere. Then I heard someone shout my name and noticed a red haired woman make her way through the crowd. Mum? It was her as the voice gave it away. And, once she appeared, my jaw dropped. She looked… stunning. Not just the hair but what she was wearing. She always dressed smartly but… Well, I’d always thought my Mum was a beautiful young woman, no problem with that. But a simple change of hair and a different wardrobe caused some rather uncomfortable feelings because she didn’t look like my mum.