//------------------------------//
// Mother Talk (Adult Days) 
// Story: Sour Sweet Shorts 
// by Nico-Stone Rupan 
//------------------------------//

"Sour, do you hate me?"

Sour Sweet glanced over at the older woman. She had expected that question to come up at some point. Just not at a time like this.

The sun had just set, allowing the cool night to begin. It was refreshing considering just how hot it had gotten during the day. Sour was wearing comfortable shorts and sandals which clashed with her companion. Niban Person was wearing a white halter pleated dress with matching high heels. The two of them were standing in front of Sour's house as they waited for another two to be ready.

"Of course not, Niban."

Niban chuckled and gave her daughter-in-law a skeptical look. "Oh, really? I'm pretty sure I've heard the 'h' word come up quite a lot."

Sour sighed with embarrassment. "Come on, we all say things we don't mean in the heat of the moment."

"I suppose," Niban agreed with a nod. "We do argue about politics a lot, don't we? A lot of time wasted."

"Yeah, we should just let the inevitable Civil War II settle things, huh?"

The two women shared a big, hearty laugh. Eventually, the hearty laugh lowered to become a moderate giggle. Finally, the moderate giggle died down to an uncomfortable, nervous chuckle as they both realized that their country was doomed.

"Anyway," Niban said quickly, desperately trying to change the subject. "What did you and Bitter do today?"

Sour smiled. "Oh, we just hung out. I took her to her favorite food joint. Her kids' meal came with the toy she wanted. That made her happy. After that, we went to the movies to catch a matinee. She loved it so much, she made me clap with her as the credits came up. When we got home, she surprised me with about a dozen homemade cards she – "

Sour paused, suddenly covering her mouth with her hand. It took all her being not to start crying right then. Not too long ago, she was getting treatment at a mental hospital for a schizophrenic relapse with an attempt to end her life, and now here she was having such a good time with it. It was all a bit overwhelming.

"It was a good day," Sour finally managed to say as she wiped some stray tears. "A very good day."

Niban reached over and gently took Sour by the hand. "You know, Sour. I don't say this as much as I should, but thank you for giving me such a wonderful granddaughter."

"I should thank you for giving me such a good husband. He loves you very much." She then gave Niban a look. "Despite the whole, you know, toxic childhood and everything."

"I suppose I should let my son know how I really feel." Niban grew a look of regret. "Both of them."

With the sound of the front door opening, Sour replied, "Now's your chance."

Second Person and First Person emerged out of the house. Both were wearing fine suits and ties, ready for a night on the town.

"Are you ready, madam?" Second asked, offering his arm to his mother.

An entertained Sour laughed internally over how sauve her husband was attempting to be. Second's light and dark purple hair was even slicked back. She had always tried to remind the dork to know his limits. Niban was impressed, however. That was all that mattered.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Niban giggled.

Niban took hold of both her sons' arms. With one last smile to Sour, she followed their lead to the car. Watching them drive off to their dinner date, Sour breathed a sigh of contentment and perhaps a bit of annoyance. Why was it only on holidays that she and her mother-in-law could get along?

Sour shrugged, deciding to let the mystery stay a mystery.

She turned and went back inside her home. When Sour entered the living room, she beheld the sight of her daughter sitting at the coffee table. The whole area was a mess of construction paper, ribbons, glitter, and safety scissors. A huge puddle of glue was prominently displayed on top of the table, some of which was running off the edge and dripping onto the carpet.

Bitter Honey glanced up at her mother and grinned. "Mama, I made you some more cards!" Her grin quickly faded. "Sorry about the glue."

Once again, Sour suppressed the urge to start crying. Not over spilled glue, but how happy she was. She went over and picked Bitter up into her arms. She hugged her daughter with every ounce of love within her.

"Happy Mother's Day, mama."

"Thank you, baby."

FINI