Steve’s mother was in the kitchen, making a cake. Steve didn’t like cakes and made a point of saying they were too sweet, but she remembered cakes as part of family meals when she was a girl, and liked keeping her hand in, even though her creativity in the kitchen was unappreciated.
She heard the front door open and slam closed. Then a voice from the hall “Hi, mom, I’m home.” This was puzzling for at least two reasons. Steve was her only child, and never, never bothered to say when he came home. He just stomped up to his room and his computer, or strolled into the kitchen to ask something. The other thing was she didn’t recognize the voice. It sounded much deeper than Steve’s, and had a definite smile in it. Steve didn’t do smiles. She hardly allowed herself to believe the treatment might have worked, so as to avoid disappointment.
She cleaned and dried her hands, and was still wiping them on her apron as she entered the front hall. Standing inside the door was a tall muscular teenager in cargo shorts and tee shirt. He smiled and said “Hi, mom.”
“Er, Steve?” she said.
The teenager frowned a bit. “Steve? My name’s James.”
“But you were called Steve this morning?”
The teen frowned and seemed to think a bit. Thinking didn’t seem to be something that came too easy. Then he smiled. “Yeah, that’s it. But I’m sure James now.”
“James” his mother nearly squealed as she went to embrace him, “I love you.”
The handsome jock embraced her warmly “I love you too, mom.”
She felt near to tears as she remembered his father embracing her when they were young, as she felt that this good looking, affectionate guy was her own, and as she vaguely was aware that she would lose him in due time to a girl of his own age. And of course that the grumpy, selfish son who had dominated and manipulated her life and never spontaneously kissed her, was reformed, re-formed.
James gave her a final hug and a peck on the cheeks. “I’ll be down soon, mom. Can I smell a cake baking?”
She gasped, proudly aware her cooking might be appreciated at last. “Yes. It should be ready for dessert. Coffee and walnut.”
James beamed, showing his perfect white teeth. “Fucking sweet!” Then he blushed and dropped his head. With his head slightly down, he raised his eyes towards his mother in an adorably cute manner and corrected himself. “Sorry, mom, I meant that’s awesome.”
While conscious thought was to prove hard work for James, he would in future produce instinctive charm on all occasions.
“That’s all right, honey,” replied his mother.
“Gotta go now, mom,” said James giving her another peck, “See ya at supper. Can’t wait for the cake.”
James bounced up the stairs two at a time to the door of his room. He opened the door and any smile on his face as the dismay became apparent. The room was as it had been left that morning by a highly intelligent geek, with no sense of style or concern for domestic hygiene.
“O fuck,” said James with a whistle.