My Mom Has A Secret Relationship With My Best Friend

As soon as I opened our front door, the smell of freshly baked bread and cinnamon filled my
nostrils. I kicked off my shoes and ran to the kitchen, still soaked from the rain that poured
on me while biking home. My mom was brushing the powdered sugar off her hands on her
apron and a loaf of bread was cooling on a rack next to a slightly opened window.
“Hi, honey, how was school?” My mom asked me, pushing some of the hair on my forehead
back and planting a kiss on my forehead.
“Mooooom.” I said, annoyed that she still did that as if I were a kid. “What did you bake?” I
asked, as she grabbed a plate and a knife to slice the bread.
“It’s a regular loaf of bread but I made a cinnamon swirl that I hope shows in every slice. I
wanted to try it out before adding it to the menu.” She said as she made a few slices, the
swirl showing perfectly in each one. Moments like these were when I marvelled at our home.
Although outside it was dark, stormy and pouring rain, the yellow lighting of our kitchen, the
warmth and the smell of cinnamon made me close my eyes and enjoy the moment. We sat
at the kitchen island with our slices of bread and drinks. I dipped my bread in hot cocoa and
snickered at my mom muttering something about me ruining her masterpiece.
“What’s wrong, honey? You look worried.” She asked when I was suddenly deep in thought.
Earlier that day our history teacher told me that if I didn’t ace the followings tests, I was
gonna fail his class.
“It’s school stuff... You won’t understand.” I sighed.
“Boy, I had you when I was a high school junior, you don’t think I’ll understand trouble at
school?” She chuckled at me. I explained to her that I was failing history and that my teacher
wasn’t lenient at all, and that I could fail the year if I did bad and struggled despite putting in
extra work.
“Well, there’s a parent-teacher meeting soon, I could go talk to him.” She said, immediately
making me feel better. If anyone could convince my teacher of going easy on me, it was my
mom. Most persuasive person in the world.
The day of the parent-teacher meeting came, and I stopped by mom’s bakery to ask her if
she was still going. The familiar bell rang as I opened the door. Julie, a girl who worked for
my mom, was at the cash register.
“Hey, Jules” I greeted her when I came in. She gave me a small wave as she handed a
customer her change.
“Busy day?” I asked.
“The morning had me spinning. Your mom’s cinnamon swirl thing was a huge success and
now people are getting food to bribe teachers at the school later.”
“Where’s mom? I asked.
“Baking her bribe in the back.” she said, turning back to count some money in the cash
register. I walked past her and into the kitchen where mom was putting a batch of cookies in
the oven.
“Are those-” I began, but they were. My favorite marshmallow brownie cookies. Mom was
wearing a pair of jeans and a red blouse. I noticed she had curled her hair a bit and put on
heels instead of her usual sneakers. She looked much more like a mom now than she did
usually, but she looked like the kind of mom that distracts your friends. We talked in the

kitchen for a while, until the oven beeped, the cookies were placed in a basket