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Chapter 1 - Loving Parents

* * * Chapter 1 - Loving Parents

"Son of a bitch!" Cursing, I jammed the shovel deep into the dirt. Why the HELL was I going through all this? Who was I trying to fool? What the fuck did I think it was going to accomplish? Disgusted with myself, I dragged a sweaty arm across my burning forehead and scowled.

I'd been slaving my ass of for five long hours, without a break from the sun OR the heat, and nobody seemed to give a damn. My lazy, unemployed, irresponsible excuse for a brother was off on vacation with his slut of a girlfriend; Dad was working overtime - again - because he was too cheap to hire another employee; and Mom, well, she was just useless. As for myself, I had the unfortunate distinction of being home, which meant I was available to dig up Mom's garden for her.

"God forbid she should have to wait a day to plant her precious flowers." Using the dirty work-gloves to wipe the sweat from my face, I turned to look at the house and popped her the finger. She couldn't even be bothered to come out and help because she was too busy doing her aerobics. Yeah, like digging up the garden couldn't give her the same workout? Of course, that would mean missing her precious soaps. Oh, the horror!

The humiliating thing was, all I COULD do was stand here and complain to myself. If I'd so much as opened my mouth to her, she'd just remind me what a favour she was doing by letting me stay in her house rent-free. Shit, nobody ever comes right out and says it, but they all think it's MY fault I can't find a decent job. They don't care that most jobs in my field are out-of-town, and that they don't pay well enough to move. Hell, if I could find something to just cover my rent - never mind food - I'd have been out the door ages ago!

Unfortunately, that line of defence would just lead to the "get a part-time job here and contribute" speech. Dammit - didn't they realized I'd BEEN trying? Problem was, every time I applied for a local job, they'd turn me down as being overqualified. They'd give me some song and dance about not being able to rely on someone who'll bolt at the first sign of a better offer. And, as much I hate to admit, that I can understand. Still, I've ever stopped looking, even though I sometimes wonder if it's worth it.

Having talked myself out of any further exertion, I sat down beneath the shade of our neighbour's tree, leaned against the fence, and chucked the gloves onto the porch. "It's not like you have anything better to do," I told myself. "The guys have all moved away, you blew all your money on a useless college degree, and you haven't had a steady girlfriend in almost two years." Gawd, why did I have to keep reminding myself of just WHY my life sucked and HOW bad? What was I, a glutton for punishment?

I was just about to return to the garden when I heard the front door squeak open. Without thinking, I looked, then almost whistled in appreciation before my face flushed with embarrassment. On top of everything else, now I had to face THIS! Shit, it wasn't normal for a son to find his mother so attractive, but I couldn't help myself. She'd been exercising steadily, eating healthily, and taking a shitload of vitamins for about eight or nine months now, and it was really beginning to show.

Today, she was wearing nothing but a skintight pair of green spandex shorts, a pink t-shirt that had seen better days, and red nailpolish. A year ago she never would have been able to wear such things - and wouldn't have wanted to - but that had all changed. As her exquisite legs descended the stairs, her sweat glistening in the sunlight, I had to remind myself she would be turning forty-one this year. Any stranger would have sworn she was at least ten years younger. For that matter, maybe even fifteen.

"Hi, hon," she called cheerily. "Thought you might like a drink."

Nodding, I tried to respond past the lump in my throat. I tried to tell myself that I was just proud of her for getting in such good shape, but knew that wasn't it. As much as it bothered me to admit it, I was admiring the body of a beautiful woman. More than that, I was lusting after it!

The fact that we were related was just an unpleasant complication.

Handing me a refreshingly cool glass, she smiled. "Why didn't you come in and take a break? You look like hell."

Shrugging, I downed the contents of the glass in one gulp, still afraid to attempt speech. Ever since the results of her fitness program had begun to show, she'd become much easier to live with. Gone was the bitchy, complaining, chainsmoking, fiend we had all come to know so well. In her place, we had this stranger, a happy, generous, domestic goddess. "I just wanted to make sure you had plenty of time to plant your flowers," I replied. No matter how angry I felt, I couldn't maintain it around her anymore. We used to fight like you wouldn't believe, but that had changed too.

Still smiling, she strolled over to inspect my handiwork. I had to physically force myself not to watch her tight little ass swaying back and forth. Instead, I looked down at the empty glass and frowned. "Why milk?" I asked her, just now realizing what I had swallowed.

"Because it's good for you." Returning from her inspection, she complimented me on my gardening skills and declared my day done. "Take a rest," she laughed, "You certainly deserve it."

A moment ago, I'd been ready to murder the world. Now . . . now I was just feeling guilty. She hadn't deserved me giving her the finger earlier, and certainly wouldn't appreciate me lusting after her now. Confused, I followed her inside. As I dropped the glass in the sink, I remarked "The milk tasted a little funny, but it hit the spot."

She giggled - something her old self had NEVER done - and told me "It's a special blend." Winking my way, she promised "Much better for you that the regular stuff."

Special blend? Great - probably some powdered shit with wheat germ, tofu, and powdered bark mixed in. Shrugging, I thanked her and headed for the shower, half- afraid she would follow and half-wishing she would. As I slid the glass door closed behind me, I didn't know whether to be relieved or upset to be showering alone.

Disturbed by that particular thought, I cranked the dial all the way to the right and braced myself for the cold........(cont)