Photo Op

Broken capillaries ruddy the sclera of Marla’s exhausted eyes. I avoid her gaze. The crepey eyelids look well beyond seventy-five. She unzips her bag and pulls out a local paper. She unfolds it onto the table.

“I’m on page four this week. Good lighting that day. Look at your mother, Danny.”

“You look great!” My boyfriend responds. Her eyes briefly flash with vitality.

“Take my picture on the patio. For next week,” Marla commands.

She leans over me and inhales. I recoil. She touches my face then rips a handful of hair from my head.

“No! Not this one, Mom!”

I jump up and run to the door. Marla’s feet clomp behind me while I fumble with the lock. Danny wraps his arms around his mom and calls out, “Baby, I’m sorry she didn’t mean it.”

There’s a bolt at the top of the door that’s keeping it from opening.

“You get too busy when you have a girl. You stop having lunch with me! Forget about the woman that made sure you got into the University of Illinois College of Engineering,” Marla cries.

“Never. You are my world, Mom. I would like to have a partner though.”

“A wife. A wife is the proper way. The way I taught you. You took a big step backward having premarital sex. It did give me a grandchild that produces many likes on Facebook and pictures for the paper. A sin none the less.”

“This time is different, she’s a good girl.” Danny gushes.

My mouth fills with bile. Danny is a very different person around his mother. They sit on the floor holding each other. I quietly slide boots onto my feet and eye my handbag that holds my keys across the room. Marla looks younger in her son’s arms, clenching my hair in her fist.

“You look pretty, Marla. Would you like me to take your picture?”

“Yes. Thank you! The editor needs my picture by Thursday or it won’t make the deadline,” Marla replies.

I cross the room and secure my bag, walk to the front door, reach up and unlatch the bolt. Danny stands up. Marla straightens her posture and becomes energetic. She fluffs her hair, rubs her cheeks and smiles. Her teeth are jagged glistening little points. I open the front door and step outside. Danny follows and snakes an arm over my shoulders.

“I’m sorry about that. She’s a bit protective. Let’s go back inside.” He says firmly. I see a man walking on the sidewalk and wave. He approaches. Danny tenses up.

“Hi Hank! I’ll be giving a nice contribution to Catholic Charities again this year,” Marla purrs. Hank smiles and addresses Danny, “Good to see you, heard she was setting you up with the new Sunday school teacher? Haven’t seen you at the congregation though.”

Danny is quiet. He looks at his mom.

“You caught me! I just want legitimate grandchildren and the best for my boy! Is that so much to ask?” Marla giggles and approaches me. “Forgive me dear, you’re over thirty and have begun to sour. There’s more energy in the truly youthful.”

I open my car door, get in and hit the locks. Danny knocks at the window. Hank waves. Marla grins while I back out of the driveway trembling. As I drive out of the neighborhood a young woman beaming with hope passes in her Toyota.

***

Lumina Miller has a BA in English from the University of Iowa. She enjoys the blue light of the early morning and the prospect of possibility. Her work has been published by literary magazines Black Mountain Press, Unleash Lit, The Write Launch, and Drunk Monkeys.

Instagram: @luminamillerpoet