Chapter 7: Mom Knows Best

Chapter 7:

The next morning, Alex knew he couldn't leave without talking to his mom. His finger hovered over the phone for a moment before dialing her number. As it rang, he mentally rehearsed what he'd say. The truth—that he'd been invited to a magical university in another dimension—was absurd. She'd either think he was joking or start Googling therapists. He needed a plausible excuse.

"Hello?" her familiar voice answered, brisk and efficient as always.

"Hey, Mom," Alex said, forcing a casual tone. "I've got something important to talk to you about. It's kind of big."

There was a pause. "Big? What's going on? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Alex said quickly, though his voice wavered slightly. "It's just... a lot's been happening. Can I come over?"

"Sure. Come for lunch," she said, her tone softening slightly, though it carried a hint of suspicion. "We'll talk then."

He hung up and exhaled slowly. Visiting his mom always stirred up mixed emotions. She wasn't his biological mother—she was his aunt. His birth mother had bolted when he was just a baby, leaving him and his sister, Iris, behind. His aunt had taken them in without hesitation, legally adopting them, but the weight of that history was something Alex always carried.

Alex's family dynamics were nothing short of a tangled mess. His biological parents had been young and reckless, forced into a shotgun wedding when Iris was born. Their relationship was doomed from the start, and Alex's unexpected arrival only added fuel to the fire. By the time his mother ran off, his biological father was long gone, leaving Alex and Iris in the care of their aunt—now their mom.

Life under her roof had its own set of challenges. Alex and Iris's relationship was fraught with tension, especially as they grew older. Iris, two years his senior, had always been introverted and struggled with communicating. They got along most of the time, but their mother had a way of sparking conflict. Iris often accused Alex of being the favorite, and though he never wanted to admit it, she wasn't entirely wrong. Iris tended to flake when it mattered most, while Alex, despite his struggles with depression, was the reliable one.

He was the one who took charge when their grandfather passed away, driving their mom to the hospital at 14 because she was too distraught to get behind the wheel. He was the one who stayed calm when Howard, their stepfather, collapsed at dinner from a diabetic episode. That night, Alex had practically dragged Howard to the ER while their mom panicked. It was there they learned about Howard's dangerously advanced diabetic ketoacidosis.

Howard was a complicated figure in Alex's life. The early years with him had been rough—he had a short temper and often lashed out physically. Between the ages of 10 and 12, Alex bore the brunt of Howard's anger. Though the physical abuse stopped as Alex grew older, the emotional scars remained. Even after Alex had saved his life, Howard never acknowledged the incident, let alone thanked him.

In the years since, Howard had mellowed, largely due to his health scare. The near-death experience forced him to cut back on drinking and take better care of himself. But despite his outward changes, his relationship with Alex remained distant and cold. Alex suspected Howard's lingering resentment stemmed from his lack of motivation and struggles with depression. To Howard, who valued hard work above all else, Alex's introspection and aimlessness were sources of frustration.

After what felt like an endless drive lost in thought, Alex finally pulled up to his parents' house. The house was as meticulous as always. Howard's touch was evident everywhere: the freshly mowed lawn, the pressure-washed brick exterior, and the neatly trimmed hedges. Alex sat in the car for a moment, taking a deep breath. He hadn't been here in a while, and the familiar sight of the house brought a wave of mixed emotions.

The front door opened just as he stepped onto the porch. His mom stood in the doorway, arms crossed, her expression unreadable. "Took you long enough," she said, but there was a faint smile tugging at her lips.

"Hey, Mom," Alex said, stepping inside. 

"Come on in," she said, leading him to the kitchen. "I made gumbo. It's not as good as your grandma's, but it'll do."

The house smelled of spices and simmering broth. Alex sat at the kitchen table, glancing around at the familiar clutter of trinkets and family photos. Everything looked the same, but the weight of his impending decision made it all feel distant, almost unreal.

His mom set a steaming bowl in front of him and sat across the table. She rested her elbows on the surface, hands clasped. "Alright," she said, cutting to the chase. "What's this big thing you wanted to talk about?"

Alex hesitated, staring into the bowl of gumbo as if it held the answers. He couldn't tell her the full truth, but he needed her to understand, at least partially. "I've been thinking about school," he said carefully. "A... new graduate program accepted me. It's out of state, and I'd have to leave soon if I decide to go."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Out of state? That's sudden. What kind of program?"

Alex fidgeted with his spoon. "It's... specialized. Kind of a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I'm still figuring out the details, but I wanted to let you know."

She leaned back in her chair, arms crossing again. "Specialized, huh? Alex, you've had a rough few years. Are you sure this is what you want? It's a big decision, and you don't exactly have a track record of following through."

Her words stung, but he couldn't blame her. "I know," he admitted. "But if I don't take this chance, I think I'll regret it."

She studied him for a long moment before leaning forward again. "Look, whatever you decide, I'll support you. Just don't rush into something you're not ready for. And take care of yourself, alright?"

Alex nodded, a lump rising in his throat. "Thanks, Mom."

They sat in silence for a moment before she shifted the conversation to lighter topics. Alex played along, but his mind remained on the glowing invitation waiting for him. As he left later that afternoon, he knew his time was running out.