Flash Fiction! Romance Writers Weekly #lovewritechat

J.J. Devine realized it's been a while since we've done a Flash Fiction so she assigned us the following: a scene of 500 words that contain the words, happiness, egg, and purple. If you joined me from Xio Axelrod, welcome! Here's my contribution...

She was the most unnatural mother in the world. The most unloving, the meanest, the crankiest and the cruellest.

She could have taken the insults if only they had been shouted by her four year old son. But it was the voices in her head that sneered at her. Caleb just stared at her with the big blue eyes wide, bottom lip trembling.

“I didn’t mean, too, Mommy. I’m sorry.”

Of course he hadn’t meant to drop the dozen eggs on the freshly mopped floor. And she shouldn’t have shouted at him like she had. 

“I’m sorry, too.” She heaved in a deep breath through her nose and exhaled slowly. “Mommy didn’t mean to yell.”

His little shoulders slumped and he hung his head, blond hair falling over his brow. She should have taken him to get it cut weeks ago, but between working two jobs and trying to keep the house looking this side of a garbage dump she simply hadn’t had the time. Or the energy.

“I’ll clean it up.” He trudged to the cupboard under the sink and pulled out the roll of paper towel. The top of his head barely cleared the top of the counter. “I made the mess, so it’s my job.”

She could hear her own shrieking demands echoing in his quiet, high-pitched voice. Her guilt grew. “That’s okay, buddy. I’ll do it.” Gently she took the roll from his hands. Kneeling down so they were eye level, she took his chin in her fingers. “I meant it. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. It was an accident.” She was just so tired. The threads holding her sanity together were fraying ever farther. “Why don’t you go colour me a picture. I need a new drawing for the fridge.”

Caleb brightened immediately. “Okay.” He rushed out of the kitchen, only to return even before she’d had a chance to make a swipe at the slimy mess on the battered linoleum. “I’m going to draw a flower. What colour should it be?”

“It doesn’t matter. I like all the colours.” 

“No, Mommy, pick one. What’s you’re favourite?”

His eagerness to please her made her want to curl up in a ball and cry. “Purple. I like purple.”

“Okay.” He raced off again.

She cleaned up the smashed shells and splattered yolks, giving the floor one last wipe with a vinegar solution to make sure it was completely gone. Determined to make it up to her little boy, she made him a small cone of ice cream and carried it into the living room with her. He was on his knees next to the coffee table, the tip of his tongue peaking out from between tightly pressed lips as he concentrated on the paper before him.

“Hey, buddy, look what I brought you.”

He smiled, that wide, innocent smile that never failed to turn her heart to mush. “Ice cream!” 

She dropped to the faded, second-hand couch and he climbed onto her lap, paper clutched in his small, dimpled hands.

“Is that my picture?”

He handed it to her with a vigorous nod. She gave him the cone and he began to lick industriously. “Do you like it?” he asked, a hint of anxiety in his voice.

She studied the wrinkled paper. A long, narrow blue blob sprouted snaky green lines, topped with explosions of purple. “It’s beautiful.”

“See? I made the flowers look like hearts.”

“Of course I see that.” Sure enough, the shapes clustered at the top of the drawing did vaguely resemble hearts, now that she knew.

“I made them hearts, because hearts mean love, and I love you.” 

Her throat tightened and her eyes burned. But not in fear, or frustration, or failure. In huge, relief-studded happiness. Maybe she wasn’t doing as badly as she thought. Maybe she needed to remember perfection wasn’t necessary, but love was. “I love you, too, buddy.”

He leaned against her, his head nestled under her chin, still licking his ice cream cone. “You’re the best Mommy ever.” 

A cold, sticky drop plopped onto her forearm, another onto the thigh of her jeans. She simply smiled, while she held her world in her arms.

Thanks for joining us again this week! I’m sending you onward - why not see what Tracey Gee came up with!