The Blanket — 3
#4 of The Blanket
"Mom?" Eds voice said as he peeked into the kitchen, in the quiet calm of the house at night. Every one of his friends had left, their parents included, and he and his mother were left to their leftover cake and banners. Ed looked at his mother and felt a pang of affection as he saw her with cake frosting on her lips. Her eyes were big, as if she'd been caught. She gulped, hunched over the leftover birthday cake without a fork or a plate and her fingers had frosting on them too.
"Yeah hun?" She sat down, licking her fingers by popping them into her mouth. Ed approached and sat down too, like it was some big talk.
"I... Mom I'm thirteen now, I feel like I should be past birthday parties where you tell me to go to school and hand out cards to my friends." The words lurched out of his face. A deer in the headlights look moved over her pretty canine face, her mouth wrapped around her pinkie in a way that made him look at it and not want to look away. He made himself look away, feeling strange about it. "I talked to all my friends and each one of them thought the thing was kinda..." Helooked for the word in his head, "elementary."
"Oh..." She looked hurt and he didn't want her to feel that way. "Honey I just wanted to help you celebrate, help you organize. Next year it'll be different. You'll be more... more grown up. I'm sorry for not seeing that you were turning into such a little man." She reached out to touch his hand
For a reason he didn't comprehend he jerked it out of her grasp. Maybe he needed to be independent in this moment. Maybe he didn't need to be a little man and maybe he needed to feel like an actual one. Her hand looked lost, like it didn't know what to do or where to go. It resoluted itself on her arm, gripping her bicep and rubbing, she looked down, her frosting covered lips pursed.
"I'm sorry," she said. He got up, he didn't know what to do with himself either.
"It's okay, mom." He said as he left the kitchen. It was dark outside and most of everything was cleaned up. His room swallowed him and he threw his hands into his face, not looking at the stack of presents on the cabinet next to his bed and he asked himself what was wrong with him. He didn't want to hurt his mother, yet he wanted to feel more mature and independent. He'd curse the world if they were coexistant as a single action.
A little tap at the door, the gentle instinentness. His mother entered, her scent pillowing through the room, and her voice sat on the air like a boat on still water, rocking Ed gently from his hands. He turns his face up at her and she was already moving inward, her soft curvy body taking easy steps towards his bed. Her weight pulls the bed into her, dimpling under her bottom and she taps the space next to her. The room is dark, the light from the hallway and the windows splashing onto the floor and walls covered in posters. "Yeah mom?" Ed says as he sits up.
"Hey, son." She said soothingly. Both pairs of their legs sit hanging over the bedside, bot only his moms touch the floor. Ed was scrawny and small and he prayed for growth spurts that he thought would never come. He could see her eyes flick toward him, sparkling with the faint light, and the tips of her fur glowed with it. Eds mother was beautiful. "I know how you're feeling. I've felt that way."
"How am I feeling?" He asked. There wasnt any intonation in his voice that he suspected she didnt know. It was a curiosity to hear what she had to say.
"When I was your age, I wanted to prove myself as a woman, not just a girl and I would... I tried to make people think I could handle myself." She said. "I know you're twelve- thirteen, I mean, and I should've thought about how you felt before I set up this party. I set it all up without thinking about you becoming more mature." She leaned into kiss his cheek and his stomach filled with warmth. "Next year will be different, youll be older," another kiss on his cheek. "You'll be taller," she pulled him into her, and even though he did want to feel more mature, there was no way he could pull away. She made Ed childish putty in her grasp. "And you'll be more mature. I promise I'll start treating you like you're older."
"What do you call this then?" He asked, chuckling to himself.
"This?" His head had been pulled into her lap, and she held him, stroking his hair. "This isn't gonna stop, sorry."
"I'm okay with that."