by Juliana Perry
If I close my eyes, I can see the image of his deep baby blues looking sideways at me, sizing me up. I wait patiently, my breathing slow and steady in anticipation, for him to make his move towards me from across the room through the maze of furniture, you know the way some people overcrowd and clutter their homes with pieces? There is some distance between us so it is easy to catch the small cough, watch as the back of his hand covers his mouth; this makes me smile. I look down and study my hands and I can sense him sidling closer to me, I am his rock in a sea of uncertainty, I am a mother. Like Frankenstein he comes towards me, stiff-kneed and arms outstretched, my son with the extra chromosome, having made up his mind to grace me with his maniacal grin, almond eyes and strong grasp. I close my eyes and hold him close just as he falls into my arms, his embrace sweet.
Juliana Perry is a single mom of three, a lover of all things wine, cheese and bread, a maintainer of all things house and home, a student of business and psychology, and a professional scheduler and multitasker.