Page 16 of Mr. Big Stuff

“You look good, baby boy. But you could stand to eat more,” she clucked.

I shook my head. If I ate anymore, I would not be able to fit into my two-thousand-dollar suits.

“You’re tripping, ma. I’m eating plenty.”

“If you got you a good woman, you won’t have to worry about all that,” she said as if I hadn’t spoken.

“Yeah okay, Ma,” I told her while wondering if Tracey could cook. We never got that far.

Finally taking my cue, she reached out, “Pass me that folder and follow me inside real fast”

The blue folder contained some things I was not interested in discussing.

“Baby, you have to review it sometime.”

“Not today I don’t. You’re healthy and alive, and I don’t want to look at funeral arrangement plans, Ma.”

She watched me for a long moment, and I knew her years as a social worker were kicking in. She was figuring me out.

She got up to return the folder to her dinette table and came back to sit in the chair across from me.

I was determined to keep Tracey to myself for now. How could I explain my reasons for crossing every boundary I’d ever written for an employee, just to feel Tracey’s wet lips and pussy. Just thinking about how good breaking these boundaries were, made me want to call her up now which infuriated me. She was becoming a need and I have never needed a woman in my life before. Since most couldn’t even get off second base, there was no point. I had to learn to be cool with whatever didn’t happen. But Tracey could take this dick and take it well. I shifted and hoped my dick would stay calm. I was talking to my mother for goodness’ sake.

“What’s bothering you, baby boy?”

That didn’t take long.

“Who said anything was bothering me, Ma?”

“My son, I know you, that’s what said.”

I leaned back on the soft pillows of my mother’s couch like a man speaking with his shrink.

“Just thinking about life.”

“Would life involve a woman?”

I shrugged. “Possibly.”

“You were never one to do much talking. Especially about the girls you were seeing. And that’s okay. You had, still have, your father for that. But some things require a … feminine touch.”

I was thinking of the feminine touch of Tracey, but I don’t think she meant that.

“Women can be complicated but so can men.”

“You talking about you and Pops now?”

“No, your father and I are where we need to be. I know you think it’s together that we should be, but like this, we get to fuss and still love each other. Together … there was no way to love each other because the fussing never ended. It went from one thing to another and after a while I lost confidence. I didn’t think I could be a good wife anymore. Not with him complaining all the time.”

I didn’t see Pops as complaining but maybe there was a lot I didn’t know, or hear.

As if reading my mind, she smiled with patience. “Oh, baby, there’s a lot we kept from you and your sister. We had to so you could be okay and have healthy experiences with the world. But your dad wasn’t easy and no matter how much love two people have for each other, when one loses confidence, there’s a broken piece that makes everything else seem impossible.”

I thought of Tracey. Did she have a broken piece? I needed to find out.

“You need to go?”

I stared at my mother who was smiling sweetly. How could she read my mind when I didn’t even budge? My Pops had had his hands full I could tell.

---