A Little Bite of Magic Goes a Long Way (BxB)

17 ~ Ben

I spent the day with my mom, taking care of a list of mundane tasks my dad had apparently been avoiding for several months: a leaky faucet, a broken window screen, a door that didn't close quite right.

By the end of the day, I felt I'd earned my mom's roast chicken, and she didn't disappoint.

My dad did though, calling to tell my mom he'd be home late because of some faculty meeting he'd forgotten about.

"He's almost seventy," I said as my mom and I sat down to our meal. If I hadn't been there, she'd have been dining alone. "Why doesn't he retire? Wouldn't he get full benefits and all that?"

My mom just laughed. "Your father will never retire, Benji. He'll keep scratching out equations for bored students to copy down until the day he dies—probably in the middle of a lecture on Hume's principle, or something equally riveting."

My mom isn't the sort of woman who rolls her eyes, but there was definitely an eye-roll in her tone.

"Why are you still with him?" I asked, the words leaving my mouth before I had a chance to consider whether this was the sort of question one ought to ask one's mother over a roast chicken.

She just smiled, though it wasn't a happy expression. "Because I still love him," she said. "Or...maybe I love the way I remember him to be. We used to have a lot of fun together, believe it or not—like you and Matt do now."

I sighed. We did have fun but—I realized with a little shock of unhappiness—we hadn't in a long time. That was going to change though, I promised myself. I wouldn't let Matt end up loving the memory of a man who'd long since ceased to exist.

"What did you two fight about, anyway?" my mom asked. "Matt doesn't seem like the fighting type."

She poured me another drink and I swirled it around in the glass. If I drank it, I wouldn't be able to drive for at least another hour.

"He's not," I said, and sighed again.

The cupcake had long since worn off (I knew because my mom had asked if I liked the color of the new rug she'd bought for her bedroom, and I'd said yes. It was maroon.) but I supposed I'd gotten used to the sort of candor it had forced me to adopt. It was refreshing, in fact.

"I lost my job, Mom," I said. "I got fired. This morning."

My mom gasped, hand fluttering to her throat. "Oh my goodness, no! Benji, why?"

"Because I told the truth," I said.

"Oh my... Like one of those whistleblower types?" Her eyes were huge, and she leaned across the table to grasp my arm. "Benji, you're so brave!"

I laughed. "No, Mom, nothing like that. I just told my boss exactly what I thought of him, and...well, let's just say he didn't appreciate my opinion."

My mom stared at me. "Why on earth...you must have known what would happen. Did you want him to fire you?"

"Of course not," I said, slumping in my chair. "I...I didn't mean to say any of it. That's what Matt and I fought about. He gave me something that...loosened my tongue."

"Oh heavens—you boys aren't doing drugs are you?"

My mom is the sort of person who thinks if you eat a weed brownie one day, you'll be a crack addict the next.

"No Mom, we're not 'doing drugs,'" I sighed. "I can't really explain it. Let's just say he baked something with a special ingredient, and it had an unintended effect."

My mom remained silent for several long beats. "Well, you didn't much like that job anyway," she said at last, leaning back in her chair. "Maybe it's for the best. Now you can take some time and figure out what you want to do—set a new course. It could be exciting."