The smell of my mom’s cooking fills the air, making my stomach clench in hunger and bringing childhood memories back inseconds.
A homecooked meal is something I've come to cherish and miss every day. Eating out is getting old. I’ve tried to learn how to cook but haven’t mastered more than boiling water for pasta and heating jarred spaghettisauce.
Mom has lured me back on my birthday with promises of my favorite meal—homemade lasagna. The smell of greasy cheese and sausage brings me to heaven, and I can’t wait to sink my teeth into it. She’d better have made two batches, because I'm going to steal one to take home withme.
"Is that my little boy I hear walking down the hallway?" she calls seconds before I enter theroom.
She's standing at the stove with her flowered apron on, stirring thesauce.
"Goddamn, that smells good," I take the deepest breath in, rubbing my belly inanticipation.
"Don’t use that kind of language around me," she chastises. "Come over here and give me a hug." She sets down the spoon and wipes her hands on her apron before reaching out tome.
I laugh. "Mom, you know goddamn is not a bad word,right?"
We embrace, and as I pull back her hands cup my ears. "Oh, hush now. You know it is. Let me look atyou."
Her smile is one that always makes me chuckle inside. I’m twenty-eight years old, and she still looks at me like I’m her babyboy.
She rubs my cheeks. "Such a handsome man. Please tell me you’ve found yourself a nice girl in thecity?"
"Not yet. I wouldn't have time anyway. The law firm keeps me working till all hours of thenight."
"Then you work too hard. What's the saying? All work and noplay—"
"I didn't say I don't play." I wink at my dad, who enters the kitchen at the perfect moment. We share a look of understanding, and Mom playfully hits myarm.
"You stop that talk around me." She turns away,smiling.
"Oh, come on, Nancy, don't you remember us at his age?" Dad asks as he wraps his arms around herwaist.
"Yes, but we were already married," shestates.
My parents are the perfect couple. Still married almost thirty years later, and even though picturing them together sexually disgusts me, it's also pretty cool to see they still have an intense level of affection toward eachother.
I thought I found something like that with Amy, but who was I kidding. Since it ended with her I haven't been able to get in my groove. I was wondering if I everwould.
Until lastnight.
This girl walked straight toward me in the bar area of the members only club I attend and seamlessly worked her way into my arms. Even though I had no plan of hooking up, I was willing to entertainher.
Real names are left at the door of the club so instead she called herself Last Chance. At the time I didn't want to know why, but as I drove home last night, the name intriguedme.
She had a wild side, like she wanted to test the limits but not obscenely. Sometimes being with someone is a little awkward or even a little nuts, but there was something exciting about thisone.
Even though she told me it was her first time there, it was obvious nothing was holding her back. She knew what she wanted, and she knew how to get it. I was more than willing to be her puppet for thenight.
I lick my lips, remembering her taste and the way her black mask contrasted with her milkyskin.
Pulling up a stool at the kitchen island, I sit and pop grapes into my mouth. "So who else is here? I didn't recognize the two cars parked outfront."
"You remember Mackenzie, don't you?" Mom asks, pushing my father away so she can walk to therefrigerator.
"Tracy's friend from highschool?”
“Yeah. She's in the backyard talking to Tracy'sboyfriend.”
"Oh, great. Who's this guy?" I narrow my eyes, remembering all of my sister’s boyfriends. She picks realwinners.
