Don't Touch Me! - 2

 

"Mother, I'm back," Cody called out as he came into the house.

"It's about time," she replied from the living room. "I'm hungry."

Cody sighed, going to join her. She sat in regal splendor in the center of the sofa. Her hair was perfectly coifed, her lips bright red from the lipstick she insisted on wearing. If she had been thirty years younger and weighed a hundred pounds less, she would have been beautiful. As it was, between her weight and the arthritis that had crippled her hands, she looked like…like a blob I have to take care of, like it or not. She was his mother, and he loved her, but there were times…

"What would you like for supper?" he asked.

"That chicken thing you make, with mushrooms and cream sauce. Is there still cake left?"

"Yes, Mother."

"Good. And I need more coffee." She gestured toward the empty cup. "And change the channel. I want to watch the news." She looked at the bag he was holding. "Are those my meds?"

He nodded.

"Give me a pain one. I hurt."

He did as she requested, changing the channel, getting a glass of water, then helping her drink after putting a pill on her tongue.

"How is your book coming?" she asked, her attention vacillating between him and the TV.

Cody was surprised she'd asked. She was disdainful of his writing, despite the fact it was what kept a roof over their heads. That and the money she'd gotten when his father had been killed in an industrial accident at the factory three years ago.

"It's getting there."

"What is?"

"My book."

"Oh. Okay." By now she was fully engulfed in a news story about a murder of an elderly woman not too far from where they lived. "Another one. That makes two now. How horrible," she exclaimed. "Cody, is the alarm turned on?"

"Yes, Mother. Isn't it always?" he muttered in exasperation, walking into the kitchen to start supper.