Seems the only one who doesn't see your beauty
Is the face in the mirror looking back at you.
Nicholas' mom was good-looking. This was a fact that he knew - he'd been told it all of his life. When he was younger, girls at school would tell him how lucky he was to have such a pretty mommy. As he got older and hormones started to take over the minds of his classmates, it was more often for the other boys in class to make comments about her - though they usually weren't quite as polite (MILF was an acronym that he wished he didn't know the meaning of). Her good looks combined with her warm smile and the fact that she had a kind word to say about almost every person she met, meant that she was adored by all of his friends and their parents alike.
Nicholas had never met his father and was completely content with it that way; he had all the parent he needed in his mom. They were very close, she had always been determined to spend as much time as possible with him, despite having to work to support them both. They were a small family but they were a happy family.
It was the night that they'd moved into their new home that he first noticed it. The crying.
After his mom had tucked him in and kissed him goodnight, he'd found himself still too excited from the move to go to sleep. He pulled out a small torch and his copy of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire from under his bed and began reading the last few chapters. Nicholas loved reading and it was rare to find him without a book nearby. He loved the adventures that they took him on, loved being able to explore other worlds. There was nothing better, in his opinion, than being so absorbed in a story that you can see, hear and feel everything that the characters were experiencing.
As he started on the final chapter, he really felt like he could hear the sobbing of Amos Diggory as he met Harry. It took him a moment to realise that it wasn't just his imagination making him hear things, someone actually was crying. He put down the book and torch, climbed out of bed and tiptoed over to his bedroom door which was slightly ajar. Careful not to make any noise, he slipped out into the hallway and padded slowly along towards the top of the stairs, where light was spilling up from the living room below. The closer he got, the less muffled the crying (that he now recognised as his mom's) became.
He wondered if it was to do with the woman in the photo that he'd found earlier in the day. She'd told him that it was just an old friend, that the letter wasn't important and so she'd open it later but she had been acting funny ever since then. She'd seemed distracted, when he talked to her she smiled a fraction of a second late and he kept finding her staring into space, lost in thought. Maybe the letter had something sad in it that had upset her? Craning his neck to peer over the banister, he could make out his mother's figure hunched over on the floor, stacks of photographs and pieces of paper in front of her. Her shoulders shook with her sobs and she was clutching something to her chest.
He thought about going down to her but he had never seen his mom this upset before and didn't know what he could do about it, also, he knew that it was well past his bedtime and didn't want to get into trouble for still being awake. As he was debating what to do, her sobs lessened as she tried to get her tears under control. Taking in a deep breath, she pulled herself up straight and looked down at what was in her hands. Nicholas now recognised it as the letter that he had found but it wasn't opened, so why was she crying? She brought a shaky hand up to her face, roughly wiped away the tears from her cheeks and shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. Slowly, she placed the letter at the bottom of the small, empty box next to her, began gathering up the assortment of photos and piled them in on top of the letter. She gently brought the last photo up to briefly touch her lips before adding it to the box and closing the lid.
Nicholas continued to watch as she took a few more deep breaths, composing herself, and stood, picking up the box and carrying it over to open cupboard in the corner of the room. She slid it to the very back of the top shelf and closed the door, wiping away a few lingering tears as she turned and headed towards the stairs. Realising that she was coming his way, Nicholas scampered back to his room as fast as he could while making as little noise as possible. He switched off the torch and flung himself back into bed, facing the wall. As he heard his mother's footsteps coming along the hallway he shut his eyes and tried to slow his breathing as if he were asleep. He heard his door creak open a little further and a shaky sigh came from his mom before she stepped back out into the hallway and the door closed with a quiet click.
After she'd left the room, Nicholas rolled back over, eyes wide. He put his book away but still he didn't sleep. He couldn't sleep. Instead, he lay in bed, thoughts and questions churning around in his mind. Who was that woman? What was in the letter? Why hadn't his mom opened it? And how could it be upsetting her so much when she hadn't even read it? Most importantly, how could he make his mom happy again? She had taught him that when someone was sad you should do whatever you can to make them feel better. But what could he do?
The following morning she woke him with a bright smile and the promise of pancakes for breakfast. Despite having spent much of the night pondering the question, he still didn't know what had upset her. He was just glad that she seemed happy again.
The more he thought about it though, the more he came to doubt if she really was happy. He made a point of paying more attention to her mood and soon discovered that the previous night's tears weren't such a rare occurrence. He wasn't sure if it hadn't been happening before or if he'd just never noticed it. Either way, now that he had started noticing it, he couldn't seem to stop. She never cried in front of him (he was pretty sure that she didn't have any idea that he knew she cried at all) but he heard her. It was mostly at night, after he'd been sent to bed and she was left alone. Occasionally though, walking into a room he caught a glimpse of her deep in thought with a forlorn expression before she noticed his presence and adjusted her features back into that dazzling smile.
While he didn't feel the need to meet his dad, he did want his mom to be happy. Sometimes he wondered if she would be happier if his dad was still around, most of his friends at school lived with their moms and dads together and they all seemed happy. He had a few friends who lived with step-parents though, maybe that's what she needed - not his dad back but someone else to join their little family. Someone else to love her. It's not like she didn't go out on dates, they just never seemed to stick around for very long, even the very occasional ones that he got to meet. They all just seemed to end up leaving and it went back to being just the two of them again.
Over time, he came to doubt the title of 'just an old friend' that had been given to the blonde woman in the photo. He'd always wanted to bring it up in conversation. The letter, that woman. He just didn't know how to, or how his mom would react if he did. The last thing he wanted was to bring it up and cause her more upset. He wrestled with different ways of subtly phrasing vague questions to get some sort of insight into the mystery woman but with little success. That is, until one day the need for such subtleties became irrelevant.
It was during one of their weekly food shops that it happened, down an aisle between the candy and boxes of cereal. Nicholas was half listening to his mom as she discussed the differing health benefits of various breakfast foods whilst he checked off items from their list. He had his back to her, picking up a box of Lucky Charms, when her monologue (that had moved onto an organic vs. non-organic debate) came to an abrupt halt.
He spun around to find out what had managed to silence her. She stood stock-still, no trace of a smile on her face. Her mouth hung open and her eyes wide, staring.
A short distance along the aisle stood a woman who wore a similarly shocked expression to his mother's. They had never met before but Nicholas recognised her instantly. After a few long moments, in which neither woman seemed even to blink, a very small, nervous looking smile made its way onto the blonde's face.