5. Ma! Shoe!
Ma! Shoe!
Dani
"Hey Ma! Where's my other shoe?"
For the love of all things holy.
I love my son, I really do, but this whole 'hey ma' thing needs to stop, he's giving me a headache. He's seventeen, he should know where his shit is.
"Ma! Shoe!" Mason yells.
He comes barreling down the stairs like a freight train, all six-foot-six, and two hundred and forty-seven pounds of him. He stands in the doorway of the kitchen, hunched at the shoulders to avoid hitting his head on the frame.
My son is huge. He's built like his father. A man who hasn't seen Mason—thank God—since he was just over a year old.
"Ma? Are you listening?"
Fuuuuuck, his voice is so deep. I miss his little high-pitched, squeaky voice. "Honey, I have no idea where your other shoe is. I wasn't the one who put them away," I answer as I make breakfast before my first day of work.
Mason huffs as he walks into the kitchen and throws himself onto a chair, the thing creaking under his weight. If he breaks another one, he'll be sitting on the floor from now on.
"Can you help me look? Axe and Clay will be here soon," Mason groans.
"Bubba, I am trying to get ready for work. This is my first job in a month and the last thing I need is to be late," I say as I face him.
"How am I supposed to go out with them with only one shoe?" he replies.
This kid's getting on my last. Damn. Nerve. "Mason, you have six other pairs of shoes. Wear one of them." I answer, turning to grab my bagel as it pops from the toaster.
The noise that comes out of his mouth makes it sound like I just killed him and believe me when I say the thought has crossed my mind.
"Mmmaaa!" he whines, and I smack his arm. I am not in the mood to deal with his bloody whining.
"Knock it off, Mason. I need to eat and get going. I don't have time to deal with your whining," I scold, biting into my buttered bagel.
The front door opens, and Mason's two best friends saunter in like they live here. Which they kind of do. They say they like my house better. Maybe because it's full of junk food, I have no clue, but they're here almost every day.
"Good morning, my boys," I greet, surprised that they are all up this early on a Tuesday morning.
Most of the time I can't get Mason out of bed until the afternoon. They slap Mason on his shoulder as they enter the kitchen.
"Looking stunning today, Ms. C," Axe comments as he pulls out the jug of orange juice and starts drinking straight from it.
I reach into the cupboard and grab him a cup, thrusting it into his hand. "Cup, Axe. And thank you."
He winks and pours himself a glass.
Axton AKA Axe is a heartbreaker. He was such a cute kid, with his brown curly hair and moss-green eyes. As he got older though, he really grew into his looks, and I'd be lying if I said I hadn't noticed.
"Dude, where's your other shoe? We've gotta go or we'll miss the launch." Clay mumbles as he looks over and gives a shy smile.
Clay was a very shy kid, to the point where I thought Mason had made him up. I didn't see Clay until they all started kindergarten, his little blond head and big chocolate brown eyes peeking out from behind his mother's leg on the first day.
"Can't find it." Mason shrugs.
"Just wear another pair," Axe suggests, and Mason shoots up from the chair like his ass is on fire and races upstairs.
I throw up my hands. "Did I not just tell you that!" I yell after Mason. I put my dish in the sink and wash the melted butter off my fingers. "Where you guys off to today? Nothing's open yet." I ask, turning to face my 'other' sons.
"New game launches today and we want to be the first in line," Axe says. He throws his arm around my shoulders. Another tall boy.
"You're all up at the crack of dawn for a new video game?" I ask, stunned.
"You bet your sweet ass," Axe says and smiles down at me, his thumb brushing the burn mark on my collarbone.
I smack his hand and move his arm.
"Axe, stop hitting on Ms. Carter," Clay says.
"Thank you, Clay," I say with a smile. His cheeks flush a bright pink, and he looks down at the floor.
"Aw, come on Ms. C, I'll be eighteen at the end of the month, and I've always had a thing for older women." Axe winks and blows me a kiss. He's going to join Mason buried in the backyard.
" Mason! Hurry your ass up, Axe is hitting on me again and I have got to head to work!" I yell.
The stomping of Mason's large feet head towards the stairs.
"Not cool, Ms. C, not cool." Axe mutter.
Mason takes the stairs, two at a time and grabs Axe by the front of his shirt. "We've talked about this Axe," Mason says, hauling Axe closer to his face. "We don't hit on, check out, make sexual comments to, or make kissy faces at Ma. You feel me?"
Mason is very protective of his mama. It has been me and him—with the help of my parents and Erin—since I had him at sixteen. I give him a kiss on the cheek.
"Behave boys, and don't spend all day in front of the TV." I swipe my purse off the end of the banister and walk out the door.
"And your curfew is ten-thirty, Bubba."