Meeting the Mother

Here is another excerpt from the fiction I told you about on Wednesday.

Hope you enjoy! ^_^

When he heard the sound of the opening door, he turned his head in surprise. Quickly he rose from the chair he was sitting on and went into the hallway.

“You're home early today”, he stated with a stern look on his face. “Didn't expect you back so soon”

She turned around to him and tried to give him a smile but she looked rather distressed.

“I've decided to leave early since there is so much left to do before your mother arrives tomorrow and I see no way I could manage with hanging around the office all day long”, she sighed.

“On that subject...”, he began but was cut off immediately.

“Don't!”, she raised her hand and put one finger on his lips to silence him. “The whole day I tried to convince myself I would have everything under control. I do have an exact plan what to do, how to do it and when. Please don't crush that now. I need to start going right now”

He got hold of her wrist and gently put down her arm. “It is just that...”

“What? That she will not like the cake I'm going to bake or that she won't like the double sheets in her room? What?”, she sounded sad. “What else could she not like – let alone the fact that she is sure as hell going to hate my anyway?”

“Are you panicking right now?”, he asked seriously. “She is not going to hate you. Why would you say something like this?

“I don't know! Maybe because the moment she will meet me, she will see that I'm not good enough for her precious son!?” Her voice became higher with every word she spoke. She unsnapped from his hand.

“Oh please!”, he shook his head. “Calm down, will you? I know you are a little nervous to meet her, but it's going to be alright, don't worry. Anyway, what could she not love about you?”

He made an attempt to pull her closer and into his arms but she backed away. Her eyes were suddenly filling with tears.

He frowned. He couldn't witness her being on the brink of tears.

“Love...”, he began in a soft voice. “...honestly...what possibly...?”

“Let's see!”, she said, gulping back her tears. “Maybe....that I'm not as beautiful as I should be, that I'm not as skinny as I should be...or intelligent or well-read... Maybe that I'm by no means accomplished or that I have nothing to offer you at all”

“Dear, what are you talking about?”

“It's true! I have nothing to offer...nothing at all! You have an awful taste in women! I am not good enough for you! She will notice that. And surely I'm going to...humiliate you...”

“Please stop talking like this”, he managed to get closer to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. He looked her in the eyes. “You will not. And you do have a lot to offer, don't you see? You make me the happiest man on earth. And you and me....it's working perfectly, isn't it? For one year we've lived together and it turned out very well. And...”

“Yeah! That's another point!”

“What do you mean?”

“This.....here....Living together....In your house, you paying for absolutely everything...You never even let me pay for a cup of coffee or something... Oh God, I'm like a parasite!”

“What? NO! That is not true!”

“It is! Wow......what a great impression she will get from me... The chubby, ugly duckling living a prosperous life on your expense.” The tears started running down her face and she sobbed despairingly. “And now tell me again she is not going to hate me. If I were in her shoes ….if our son would bring home someone like me...I would toss that bitch out of the house instantly!”

“...our son?”, he warmly smiled at her in his irresistible way. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead. “What a nice thought”, he whispered.

“Oh....focus!”, she blubbered out. “She will hate me! She will start one of these interviews parents like to do to their children's partners. She will detect all my countless faults. There is nothing at all I could bring on to impress her. Nothing! And surely I will do something stupid. Probably pour tea over her lap. Or I will say something idiotic. I still can't express myself the way I could in my mother tongue. She will see my lacking language skills.....and what will I wear? I have no sense of style. Most likely I will look like ...like ...just terrible!”

She was crying at his chest and couldn't calm down. He affectionately stroked her hair and held her firmly in his arms.

“You do not look terrible at all today”, a female voice commented from behind.

She startled. She looked up at once. Her eyes widened in shock.

There she stood. His mother.

Giving her the same warm smile her son was so capable of.

“On the subject...”, he repeated, “...of my mother...”

“You wanted to tell me she's already arrived”, she finished his sentence. With a sigh she closed her eyes.

Of all she had imagined this was truly the worst case that could have happened.