“Hey, Mom. Congrats. You’re going to be a grandma.”
“Umm . . . Mom. I fucked up.”
“Mommy, can you fix my life?”
I am not ashamed to admit I’m a bit of a momma’s boy, and I can and will kick anyone’s ass who has a problem with it. Dumb fucks don’t have a clue how good being a momma’s boy is. I don’t have a fucking clue what I’m going to do and need my mom to tell me everything is going to be okay, even if it’s not. Letting myself in the side door, I kick my shoes off in the mudroom and head into the kitchen.
What I see next can never be erased from my eyes. My mom is half-naked and bent over the kitchen table. And it gets worse. Coach Sinclair’s bare ass is between her legs.
Oh. Fuck. No.
“Oh! My God! My eyes!”
I turn away, not wanting to see what’s happening right in front of me. My mom, my perfectly sweet, sweater-and-pearls-wearing momma, has her skirt shoved up to her waist, and her top is lying on the floor by her feet. She’s making a noise I could have gone my entire life without hearing, and Coach Sinclair—Nat and Coop’s dad—has his pants around his knees and his hands on her hips as he pumps away.
Fucking gross.
My mother shrieks, “Oh my God, Aiden! Close your eyes.”
Refusing to turn my head and risk a chance of seeing them, I yell back, “Bleach my eyes is more like it. What the hell, Mom? Is there something wrong with your bedroom?”
I hear movements behind me.
Hurried breaths.
The rustle of pants being pulled up.
A belt being buckled.
The legs of the table scraping against the floor.
“Now listen, Murphy—” Coach Sinclair starts to speak, but I cut him off.
“How about you listen to me, Coach? I just walked into my house to see you doing my mom. Can you give me a minute to have the fucking freak-out I deserve?” Storming out the door I just entered, I let it slam behind me and walk around the neighborhood while trying to get myself under control.
Once I make it to the end of the block, I really wish I’d grabbed my shoes.
When I finally pull my shit together enough to enter my mother’s house for the second time today, I make sure that it’s through the front door. And I knock . . . loudly. When my mother opens the door, I can tell she’s been crying.
I seem to have that effect on women lately.
My mother’s sparkling green eyes that were passed down to my sister and me are rimmed red, and that’s my fault. She’s changed into tan pants and a dark pink sleeveless blouse. Still has those damn pearls on though.
I’m enveloped in her delicate arms as she starts to apologize.
Pulling back, I look down at her curly, strawberry blonde hair. I definitely didn’t get my height from her. She barely comes up to my shoulder. I force the next words out of my mouth. “Mom. Don’t. I should have knocked or at least told you I was coming by earlier. It was just a shock to see that. And with Coach.” My brows scrunch, and my lips pinch tight.
I’ll never be able to purge that fucking image from my brain.
She squeezes me tighter and sits us both down on the sofa in the formal living room. The light blue couch is hard as stone, and the furniture is dainty and fragile looking. You know, it’s the living room no one is allowed to sit in. The living room you only take pictures in. That damn room.
Wiping imaginary lint off her pants, my mom settles herself. “About that, Aiden. Joe had to get to his house to make sure he was there before the guests arrived. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you or your sister about my relationship with him earlier. Still, it was nice having something to myself. Every time we’d discuss the idea of talking to you kids, we’d put it off for one reason or another. First, he wanted Declan to get to town, then we didn’t want to take away from your graduation. Of course, you were also never all in the same place this summer.”
Stopping my mom, I ask, “Does Carys know now?”
“No. Your sister doesn’t know yet. We were planning on talking to the five of you kids together today.”
“How long have you and Coach been . . . ya know?”
“Aiden,” my mother drags out my name. “Can you not be crass, please?”
“Come on, Mom. I walked in on you bent over a table,” I respond, gagging as the words leave my mouth.
She primly clasps her hands in her lap. “I know, and that was unfortunate.”
Mom cringes.
I cringe.
I think the damn couch cringes from the image that just floated through the air.
She surprises me when she places her palm on my cheek and turns my big head to look at her. “Joe and I started to talk after we all went out to celebrate your state championship last year. We started seeing each other once his season was over a few months later. By the time you kids graduated, it had become pretty serious. I care about him very much. I need to know how you feel about that.”
“Coach is a great guy, Mom. I just want to see you happy, but I’ll never think any man is good enough for you. And I’m never going to be okay with what I walked in on today. Can you keep that shit behind closed doors?”
Dropping her hands, I get the look. The look that my mother has perfected over the past nineteen years. The don’t sass me right now look. “Aiden, you walked into my house. Your sister is sleeping over at a friend’s and going straight to the party from there. I thought we’d be alone. I’m only forty-one years old. I crave . . .”
I cover my ears. “Oh my God! Stop.”
Rolling her eyes at me, she sighs deeply.
