Alive
Martha Kent was alone.
The material of her cotton robe keeping her comfortable on a sunny Saturday morning. A soft knock at the door interrupts her plans for pancakes but, she doesn't care.
"Oh! Hi Whitney." she smiles, hugging the door against herself and mentally kicks herself for not being suitably dressed but, he doesn't seem to care offering a warm smile as she blushes.
"Hi Mrs Kent- I didn't mean to intrude- I just had to see you." He stutters albeit with some determination. Whatever it is that's bothering him is serious.
She pulls back and ushers him inside.
"Whatever it is. You can tell me." she says, as he stands at odds from her.
"She kissed me. And I wanted it to be you."
"What?" she breathes, she knows nothing about a kiss and certainly nothing about some girl using her lips to kiss a man, who although, handsome was unfortunately, young enough to be her son.
"I'm a soldier now. And we uphold the truth." He states firmly, passionately as he takes slow and careful steps towards her before he's stroking her face. "Tina kissed me and I wanted it to be you. And you can kick my ass and say you never want to see me again but, I'm twenty-five years old and completely in love with you."
Did she hear that right? Was this some kind of sick joke? Come back home in your uniform and try and bed your classmate's mother.
If this is a prank-" she threatens, she hasn't been with anyone since Jonathan and it will stay that way despite, her day-dreams.
"No- Mrs Kent."
Again, with the pleasantries, she smiles and then kisses him softly on the lips making him cling to her next words.
"My name. Is Martha." she states, pulling him into another kiss and then into her shower losing their clothes along the way.
The shower washes away. His time away and her grief. It is washed away with sweet kisses and caresses.
He doesn't want it to end but, it does, a warm towel ruining his plans for a repeat performance but, it doesn't stop him from scooping her up and smothering her with kisses on the bed.
"I love you." he murmurs, peeling the towel away and letting it fall to the floor. She doesn't love him, not yet and a fragile part of her worries what her son will think. What they all will think about what they just did but, that is easy to forget as she crushes her mouth to his.
She will always be a widow.
She will always be a mother.
But, he made her come alive again and that's more than she could ever hope for.