Losing my job hit me like a freight train. Only two
years after graduating college, I was not used to this
kind of disappointment. With no major assets to worry
about, I considered moving back home to save money and
look for a new job.
The tough part would be breaking the news to Mom and
asking if I could move back home. I swallowed hard and
worked up the courage to call.
“Of course Danny,” she responded reassuringly on the
phone. “I’d be delighted! You’ll find your room exactly
the way you left it. I’ll pick you up at the airport!”
The phone conversation sure made me feel better. I now
looked forward to moving back home and starting over.
Mom has a way of making the best of a bad situation.
It had been a while for me. I had not been back home
since dad’s funeral. I was fraught with emotion getting
off the plane and retrieving my bags at the carousel.
“What is this going to be like? Is it going to be
awkward moving back home with mom after dad’s passing?
Would I be an intrusion… maybe she liked having the
house to herself?”
As I should have suspected, Mom was there waiting, and
suddenly all the anxiety disappeared.
I barely noticed her. She looked dazzling. She had her
hair done, makeup and manicure… a new outfit. I
momentarily lost my breath when I realized it was her.
“Mom?” I said, briefly at a loss for words. I wanted to
take her in, look her up and down… it had been almost
a year since I’d last seen her and today she was
breathtaking. I was not prepared for this sight and
from the way she smiled back, she knew it.
“What do you think?” she asked, extending her arms and
tossing her head to the side. I instinctively threw my
arms around her and squeezed hard. I nestled my head in
her shoulder and took in her perfume. “We have a lot of
catching up to do…” she whispered in my ear as we
I don’t remember if it was she or I who broke the
embrace; I was lost in the moment. I so dearly loved
the intimacy; it had been a while since I held a woman
in my arms. But the airport baggage claim was not the
kind of place for such displays of emotion. At least
that’s the way I was brought up.
My head was spinning as we walked to her car from
baggage claim. What a wonderful surprise not only to be
welcomed home, but to be greeted by Mom looking so
stunning. I wanted to hold her hand… or put my arm
around her. I just wanted to be close to this beautiful
woman. At the same time I wanted to stand back and
marvel at her: Her tight charcoal skirt, hemmed just
above the knee, matching hose, her black patent
stiletto pumps, white satin blouse opened to expose
cleavage and pearls underneath her matching suit
jacket. She was a vision to behold.
“Oh Danny it’s so wonderful to have you home dear. I
took the afternoon off to give you a proper greeting.”
I was wondering why she was dressed so elegantly, then
I remembered she had gone back to work in commercial
banking. After 20 years raising us kids, it looked like
she never missed a beat.
“Thanks mom, this is awesome,” I said getting into the
The ride home brought back all kinds of memories,
driving through all the old streets and neighborhoods.
But I could not pull my attention from my mom. Seated
next to her in the car, my attention became fixed upon
her, especially those legs. Her skirt rode up on her
thighs as she drove, giving me an even better view than
what I had been treated to at the airport. The sheer
dark nylons glimmered in the afternoon sun.
“Not bad for an old girl, huh?” she said demurely as
she glanced over at me. Her words startled me from my
gaze and I looked up to see that she had caught me
looking at her legs. I was mortified and once again at
a loss for words.