won’t be getting? What does that do for me, except help me to realise that I’m living off of savings, and that I remain essentially unemployed for the year?
And what a fucking arsehole am I for even thinking about that. My Mum is dying of metastatic breast cancer; what does it say about me, when I mope over dumb and inconsequential shit like this? I’m a total douchebag!
I don’t know why she waited till Christmas day to tell me, when she knew a week before. Neither does she , except to say that it took a while to build up her courage to ask me to come back.
“Benjamin Reynolds... get your arse up here!” My Mum calls from downstairs.
Sabrina , my Mum, is from the States, Idaho State actually; but having moved here for her husband, she considers herself an Aussie now. So after Dad died when I was 7, she decided to stay for me. And she has never, ever returned to live, not even when I moved there, with the exception of seeing me on an odd holiday or five, since I live in LA.
I get up off my bed and fly up the stairs to see what she needs me for. I think I’ll change rooms to upstairs; I’ll be in easy reach for her that way.
“What’s up Mum?” I ask her.
She’s sitting on her lounge suite, with her feet up and sipping on some iced water, and beside her is seated a gorgeous girl... all long dark hair, blue eyes, D-cup sized breasts, tiny waste and decent booty. I can tell she has booty, because of the way she is seated; it is in such a way that her arse is half off the cushioned lounge.
“I’d like you to meet Georgina... she’s Dana’s daughter... Dana from next door!” Mum enthuses.
“Hello.” I say.
She gives me a shy smile, which says anything but that she’s shy. “Hi!” she returns.
“Georgina is a Preschool teacher... aren’t you dear?” Mum says.
Oh Mum; she’s always done this, ever since I was 21 anyway! She tries to set me up with girls she knows I’d go for, and sometimes it works, for one night. But I’m not trying to find the love of my life right at the moment; I’m trying to spend time with her... because we both know that we’re only buying time. I’m setting up memories for the rest of my life, not looking for the next girl with a great arse and tits I’d like to fuck!
I’ve registered that this Georgina has nodded at Mum’s claim of her being a teacher. This is also a dig at the fact that I don’t have kids.
Quite frankly, I don’t want kids yet. I’m 27 years old. I’m thinking of starting to think about that sort of thing when I hit my 30’s, and not a moment sooner. Even then, I’m probably just a one kid guy... hang on, why am I thinking about this now?
I’ve lost track of the conversation, but I can tell that Georgina thinks I’m edible ; she has that sparkle in her eye, and that slightly open mouth look that says... devour me. I’m thinking... nup! I had five girls like you the month before I left; I know how that goes; from the moment we start to the moment I get bored with you, and then I’d have to see you all the time, because you live next door.
And that’s how the whole conversation goes , with me waiting for the chance to get away, and remaining relatively silent. My Mum tells me all her amazing positives, and then tells her all my good points. I don’t have to talk and neither does she.
I dismiss myself after the first half hour and go back to my room to repack my things and ready them to go upstairs where I’ll unpack them in the guest room; with my Mum in the background telling Georgina I’m shy, and that she should ask me out for dinner.
Yeah right... shy! Pffft!
... From April Onwards...
Ben.
Mum is responding well to the Xeloda she’s been on. It’s a 21 day cycle thing, in which she has two weeks of bi-daily doses and then she has nothing for a week. She has just finished her fourth cycle, and she’ll be seeing her Oncologist this week to have tests done to see if
And what a fucking arsehole am I for even thinking about that. My Mum is dying of metastatic breast cancer; what does it say about me, when I mope over dumb and inconsequential shit like this? I’m a total douchebag!
I don’t know why she waited till Christmas day to tell me, when she knew a week before. Neither does she , except to say that it took a while to build up her courage to ask me to come back.
“Benjamin Reynolds... get your arse up here!” My Mum calls from downstairs.
Sabrina , my Mum, is from the States, Idaho State actually; but having moved here for her husband, she considers herself an Aussie now. So after Dad died when I was 7, she decided to stay for me. And she has never, ever returned to live, not even when I moved there, with the exception of seeing me on an odd holiday or five, since I live in LA.
I get up off my bed and fly up the stairs to see what she needs me for. I think I’ll change rooms to upstairs; I’ll be in easy reach for her that way.
“What’s up Mum?” I ask her.
She’s sitting on her lounge suite, with her feet up and sipping on some iced water, and beside her is seated a gorgeous girl... all long dark hair, blue eyes, D-cup sized breasts, tiny waste and decent booty. I can tell she has booty, because of the way she is seated; it is in such a way that her arse is half off the cushioned lounge.
“I’d like you to meet Georgina... she’s Dana’s daughter... Dana from next door!” Mum enthuses.
“Hello.” I say.
She gives me a shy smile, which says anything but that she’s shy. “Hi!” she returns.
“Georgina is a Preschool teacher... aren’t you dear?” Mum says.
Oh Mum; she’s always done this, ever since I was 21 anyway! She tries to set me up with girls she knows I’d go for, and sometimes it works, for one night. But I’m not trying to find the love of my life right at the moment; I’m trying to spend time with her... because we both know that we’re only buying time. I’m setting up memories for the rest of my life, not looking for the next girl with a great arse and tits I’d like to fuck!
I’ve registered that this Georgina has nodded at Mum’s claim of her being a teacher. This is also a dig at the fact that I don’t have kids.
Quite frankly, I don’t want kids yet. I’m 27 years old. I’m thinking of starting to think about that sort of thing when I hit my 30’s, and not a moment sooner. Even then, I’m probably just a one kid guy... hang on, why am I thinking about this now?
I’ve lost track of the conversation, but I can tell that Georgina thinks I’m edible ; she has that sparkle in her eye, and that slightly open mouth look that says... devour me. I’m thinking... nup! I had five girls like you the month before I left; I know how that goes; from the moment we start to the moment I get bored with you, and then I’d have to see you all the time, because you live next door.
And that’s how the whole conversation goes , with me waiting for the chance to get away, and remaining relatively silent. My Mum tells me all her amazing positives, and then tells her all my good points. I don’t have to talk and neither does she.
I dismiss myself after the first half hour and go back to my room to repack my things and ready them to go upstairs where I’ll unpack them in the guest room; with my Mum in the background telling Georgina I’m shy, and that she should ask me out for dinner.
Yeah right... shy! Pffft!
... From April Onwards...
Ben.
Mum is responding well to the Xeloda she’s been on. It’s a 21 day cycle thing, in which she has two weeks of bi-daily doses and then she has nothing for a week. She has just finished her fourth cycle, and she’ll be seeing her Oncologist this week to have tests done to see if
Similar Books
