“Yeah but how do you know it’s for good? He left before and always returned.”
“Tommy . . .” She takes his hand into hers and squeezed it gently. “The divorce papers have already been signed by the both of us. Its final . . . and well he is already living with his new girlfriend.”
“Seriously, Jesus no wonder he has been avoiding my calls. And Christ you should have said something, Mom. I would have come home.”
“And that is exactly why I didn’t . . . just because I knew you would have wanted to drop everything to rush home and comfort your mommy.”
“I guess you know me that well?”
“I do.” She looks at him and smiles. The wine, her fragile mood, the warm intimacy of the cozy den and its glowing romantic fire is all combining to create a warm glow deep inside her heart.
But most especially, after being away from her beloved Tommy for so long, three and half months, that is 107 days to be exact, now him being home – and their being alone together on his first night home- something seems magical about this evening.
Now the smile, by careful design, turns into a frown. Always attuned to his mother’s moods he notices the frown.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing . . . everything. I just missed you. I want to talk but . . .”
“But?”
“But it’s warm in here. The fire you know.”
“We can talk somewhere else. The kitchen maybe. The living room.”
“The kitchen. Hmm no . . . it’s not comfortable and as for the living room no way. Too many bad memories . . . of your dad sitting there stupid drunk in his easy chair barking orders at me. Here in the den is actually the perfect place to talk. This was my place. Our place actually as remember he never came in here.”
“Yeah right, mother I remember. We used to cuddle in front of the fire on cold winter’s evenings.”
“Yes, that was nice. Real nice in fact.”
“Are you saying you maybe you want to cuddle like before, Mom?”
“Do you? God knows I could use a little cuddling. I’m not feeling very good about myself.”
“Well I would be happy to cuddle with my Mommy. You know, relive old memories, but then with my arms around you you would be really too warm . . . and you are already complaining about it being too hot in here. I guess I could put the fire out.”
“Then it will be too cold,” she whines knowing she is hard to please while at the same time knowing full well Thomas will do anything to appease her no matter how difficult she is being. It works, of course.
“First too hot, then too cold . . . Jesus, Mom!!”
“I know, I know . . . I am hard to please. I don’t want you to put out the fire anyways. It’s soothing to watch the flames dance about.”
“But if it makes you uncomfortable.”
“Well maybe if we don’t move so close to the fire. We could just stay here on the couch I will be alright.”
“Yeah we could that. You could also maybe take off your stupid old lady robe, Mom.”
She smiles at him as this is the opening she has been waiting for. “What you don’t like your mom’s thick fuzzy robe son.”
“Not really. It’s well not to be mean, but it’s not exactly appealing.”
“Yeah, well, the problem is . . . what I am wearing underneath my ugly robe hon.”