A Mother

I look around the tiny cottage and see that every little thing is in its place. There's not too much clutter, and every little piece in each little corner was carefully selected for that spot, all collected from the 60-odd years of her life. Even the place is a perfect fit. How did she find a cottage in the middle of New York anyway? And this picnic table in the kitchen section of the room with one candle and a wooden bowl from Japan full of dark chocolate almonds from the co-op on it. The careful selection and planning isn't abundantly obvious, however. It is so well done, it all looks natural and effortless.

She picks at the edges of the hand-woven potholder on the table, flipping it over and over. "Tell me what you like about school," there's some kind of yearning in the glance at her son, but she offers me one as well, for politeness's sake. I smile back and let her get the answer from the person she's actually interested in. She could never see a single flaw in him; she agrees with all of his opinions and ideas. She acts as if she is madly in love with him. "Do you like your tutors?" She pours us both more wine. "Well, you never know, maybe he has something going on at home," her motherly instinct wants to deny all that's negative in the world and hold it far from her sweet child. But he takes it as an attack; she's taking his side. "You're right, honey, I'm so sorry. I have such a bad habit of making excuses for everyone..." She looks at me. I stare at her face, trying to see her genetic make-up. This child of hers could hurl insults at her all day long, all his life for that matter, in a pathetic tantrum and her love for him wouldn't even flinch.

With more strain in her face, trying to give me the same kind of attention, she asks me something. I take it as a sweet gesture, but, knowing I could never withstand that kind of love, I mumble the question away. I just want to observe her more, so I offer a subject for them to continue on. She bums a cigarette from him. I find it sort of adorable, the way she adores him. She's even willing to give herself cancer in order to feel closer to him.

Looking at them, I feel an envy swell up in my chest. I bum a cigarette from him as well and start to pull at the strings of the potholder.