[Single] Mother's Day

The pain from her headache was as unbearable as staring directly into the sun. She glanced in the rearview mirror to check herself out. Not that it mattered. She wasn't going anywhere special. She looked at the clock on the dashboard and pressed lightly on the accelerator. She couldn't afford to be late picking her son up from daycare. It would cost her a dollar a minute after 5pm. Her mind raced over the events of her day at work. The reports she had to finish by Monday, or else...,the late meeting next week she'd have to attend and the babysitter she'd have to find for her son. God! This was supposed to be the weekend, and here she is still stressing about work. She glanced at her gas gauge and sighed. It was almost empty. And with gas prices as high as they were, so would be her pockets. She turned off the air conditioner to conserve her fuel and rolled down the windows. The blare of horns, the synthetic heat emitting from cars, and the carbon monoxide from their engines did not help her migraine. Maybe some music would help. The radio played nothing but the same 10 songs over and over and over again. She switched to a more relaxing jazz station and tried to just breathe.

At exactly 4:59 pm she pulled up to the daycare and raced inside. The best part of her day was seeing her boy playing with his friends, looking so mature already. She'd call his name and he'd turn in her direction and give her the smile that seemed to take away all of her problems. Temporarily, at least. He ran to her as she knelt down and he wrapped his little arms around her neck.

"Mama!" he'd say, flaunting one of the few words he knew so far.

"Hi, baby. How are you?" she'd reply planting kisses all over his face. This almost made it all worth it. "If only..." she thought, looking around at the other couples that were picking their children up, "...if only, I had someone to be there for me."

She had always been an independent woman. But she never anticipated being alone in the one endeavor of life that required the presence of two people. A mother and a father. She had long put away the thought of reconciling with her ex-husband. He was off, living his life, as the proud father who would never get the father-of-the-year award. 

She swooped her son up in his arms, savoring his joyous laughter, and walked towards her car. I'm not really alone, she thought, still trying to shake of the feeling of despair and loneliness. She had her son, for one thing, and she also had Dominic, her boyfriend of 10 months.

He was as kind to her son as anyone. He treated him as if he were his own. And she loved him for that. But how long could a man remain in love with a woman with so many responsibilities and such preoccupation, while he had plans of his own to carry out? He was a musician, whose aim was to tour the country playing the music he loved. He sometimes talked about how he wished he'd met her five years earlier, so that they could travel the world together. She sometimes resented him for saying that. She could not see him staying with her much longer. It made her sad because her son would miss him. And so would she. But she'd resigned herself to the fact that he would choose his passion over a life with a prefabricated family, as would anyone in their right mind. Dominic had expressed in the past how he'd always dreamed of marrying his wife, traveling the world with her for several years and then having some children. The first part wasn't going to happen the way he'd wanted it to. The last part had already come to fruition, except that it wasn't his child.

She pulled up to her house and entered it. Her son was tired, as usual, and began throwing a tantrum when she put him down. He'd missed her all day, and when she finally got a chance to spend some time with him, she, too, was exhausted. She put him in his highchair and began making dinner. Even the noise from his toys agitated her headache. The phone rang and she reached to answer it- her hands soiled with flour.

"Hello?" she said.

"Hi, Mrs. Osman?" the voice said. It was a bill collector.

"It's Ms. Osman. And I'm really busy right now, please call back another time."

"Ms. Osman, it's important that we receive your payments on your Visa card before Friday of next week, " the voice said.

"I told you last week, that I don't have it. I still don't have it....please...just give me a break here," she said and hung up the phone regretfully. The phone rang again but she did not answer it this time. It's supposed to be Mother's Day for chrissakes. At least Dominic would come over tonight. Maybe he could take Issa out for a while so that she could take a nap.

When dinner was almost ready the doorbell rang. It was probably him, always in time for some food, she smiled to herself. She picked up Issa and went to open the door, rubbing her temples with her free hand. He was standing there, with a Cheshire grin on his face and one hand behind his back.

"Happy Mother's Day!" he said pulling out a bouquet of beautiful sunflowers.

"Thank you sweetheart," she said kissing him on the cheek. She'd expected that much in the least. He'd always been a thoughtful man.

They sat down for dinner, the three of them, as if they were a real family, the family she'd always wished she would have.

"Guess what?" Dom said.

"What, baby?"

"We got several gigs lined up for the summer. I'll be gone for about a month and a half in June."

"That's great, babe," she said, the feeling of abandonment returning.

"I'm so excited. This is it, baby girl. We're gonna be big time now."

"I always knew you would," she said touching his hand.

"I want to show you something...I'll be right back- I think I left it in the car- you're gonna love this..." he said dashing out of his seat and the kitchen.

"Well, it's just me and you, boy," she said to Issa, who was playing happily with his food.
Dominic returned with some papers -probably some sheets of music he always enjoyed sharing with her- and his trusty guitar.

"Listen to this. I wrote a new song, and I want you to tell me what you think..."
He held the guitar in place and began strumming it to create the beautiful sounds he was so good at.

"A chance meeting...Starting on new grounds...Moments fleeting...While we bond...
Why did this appear...At a time that seems all wrong?...With minds unclear...
Crowded with old love songs..."

She stopped and looked down at her plate. It was coming. The feared finale. She expected it to come, but never imagined it would hurt this much. She felt the tears well up in her eyes and her head felt like it would explode at any given moment. Still, he went on singing:

"But optimism reigns supreme...And perhaps time will make room...
For new experiences and dreams...Sung in a new tune...So I'm asking my ba-by...The love of my life...will you let me...make you my wife...?"

Utterly taken aback, she looked up at him. In his hand, he held a ring, and on his face a frightened look that revealed his fear of the rejection he thought would come. The tears that began as tears of pain, changed to something indescribable when she reached over the table, knocking down the glasses of water, to kiss him. And suddenly, for the first time today, her head had stopped aching.