Relapse (Phan)

SEVENTEEN

"Phil!" Mum threw her arms over my shoulders, standing on her tip-toes to kiss the back of my neck affectionately.

"Hey Mum," I grinned, squeezing her back briefly before she pulled away to begin her ritual of fussing over me.

"Oh you look a mess!" she exclaimed, brushing off my shoulders and straightening my jacket. "And so thin! Are you eating? You look—"

"Yes Mum, I'm eating," I chuckled.

"You promise me?" she asked, a stern look in her eyes.

"I promise," I said, kissing the top of her head, "I've always been a scrawny git, remember?"

"Oh hush!" she scolded, smacking me in the arm playfully. "Here—Dad!" the minute the word left her mouth, Dad appeared in the kitchen doorway. "Say hello to your son and take his things upstairs!"

"She's still the boss, huh?" I teased, giving my Dad a quick hug and allowing him to take my bag.

"We let her think so anyway," he winked before disappearing up the stairs.

"'S Martyn around yet?" I asked, perching in my old usual place on the kitchen counter, just above the dishwasher.

"No, he's coming tomorrow," Mum said, slapping my leg. She always hated me sitting on the counter.

"Oh," I crossed my legs, making myself comfortable, pretending not to notice her firm look.

She rolled her eyes, giving up, "PJ'll be here for dinner though."

"Really?"

"Yep," she beamed, proud of herself, "Thought you might want to see him."

"I do," I smiled, reminiscent. "Thanks, Mum."

As she smiled at me and began asking about work and classes, I couldn't help but feel a little sad. Everything here was so simple. It was hard to imagine Mum fussing about here, making pancakes and worrying Dad about gaining weight, while I was in York failing classes and working overtime and getting beaten up by my boyfriend. Speaking of which—

"—his name again, Dear?"

"Huh?" I realized that I hadn't really been paying attention to Mum as she spoke.

"Your boyfriend—what was his name?," she repeated. "You are still seeing him aren't you?"

"Oh, uh, yeah," I replied, trying to keep a smile on my face, "His name's Jason."

"Jason, that's a lovely name. I thought about calling your brother Jason." Wonderful. "How is he?"

"Oh, um, he's good."

"Why didn't you bring him down with you?" she questioned. "I would have liked to meet hi—"

"He's busy this weekend," I replied, a little too eagerly, "Um, he has a gig. With his band. You know."

"Oh," she shot me a questioning glance, "Well, I hope everything is going well for you two."

"Mhm," I nodded, distractedly.

"He is treating you well isn't he?" I looked up and saw that Mum was staring at me sympathetically.

"Yes, Mum," I insisted. "You don't need to look at me like that."