“Yeah, well… you had to work late and all,” I said, flushing slightly. “Thought I could take care of this.”
I didn’t mention that it was also a convenient distraction for me.
“This is how you get the girls, you know,” she said, hugging me from behind. “Cooking for them after they’ve had a long day… it’s so nice to come home to.”
“Um… I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Sorry, I’m embarrassing you again, aren’t I?”
“A little.”
She ruffled my hair affectionately.
“You know it’s only ’cause I love you, right?”
“So I’ve been led to believe.”
Mom hugged me again, then went off to the bathroom. I sighed and shook my head. I needed to sort some things out, that was clear to me. Beyond that I was at a loss.
****
Mom and I watched a movie that evening. Or, more accurately, she watched it and I stared blankly at the TV while I got lost in my own little world. I was in such a weird place in regard to my relationship with my mother. I loved her and I wanted to spend time with her, but I also felt a certain amount of unease around her. I wanted things to go back to normal, but I didn’t know how to make that happen.
My lack of proper sleep the night before gradually caught up to me as I sat there on the couch. I was tired, though not quite tired enough to give up and go to bed. I shifted around to get more comfortable a few times. Without really being aware of it, I ended up getting closer to Mom in the process. I was leaning on her slightly, but most of my weight was against the back of the couch.
“Do you want to stop for now and finish the rest of the movie tomorrow?” Mom asked softly. “You look tired.”
“I’m fine,” I said. “I’m kind of tired, but I’m not quite ready for bed.”
Mom nodded and let the subject drop. She moved her arm around behind me so she could reach my head. She started gently stroking my hair while we sat together. The contact evoked a faint pang of nostalgia. We used to sit together like that a lot when I was younger; I’d cuddle up to Mom and she’d toy with my hair affectionately. Things like that had gotten rarer as I grew up and began wanting my space.
Despite my recent feelings of uncertainty regarding my mother, I was remarkably content with our current seating arrangement. It was as though the awkwardness of the past few days had never happened. Maybe all I’d needed was a physical reminder that nothing had actually changed between us and that it was all in my head.
I snuggled even closer to Mom and let her put her arm around me. Being held by her made me feel safe. My arbitrary worries and fears couldn’t compete with my ingrained reactions to the one person in the world who loved me unconditionally.
I was lulled toward sleep as I sat nestled in my mother’s partial embrace. My eyelids drooped, and my neck grew tired of holding my head up. I nodded forward slightly, and my face shifted from resting on Mom’s shoulder to her upper chest. I felt the softness of her breast against my chin.
“You can go to bed,” Mom whispered. “I won’t mind.”
“Maybe I should,” I mumbled. “But I don’t want to.”