MidReal Story

Tempted by My Mom’s Friend

Anonymous

Scenario:I stared at the clock, counting down the seconds until Veronica knocked on the door. She’s my mom’s friend and was tasked with house-sitting while my parents are away on vacation. Apparently, they didn’t trust me to be alone at the house. Finally, I heard the knock. Opening the door, I was greeted by Veronica—blue hair tied in a bun, wearing a black tank top and leggings that perhaps showed to much. "Heyyyy! Long time no see, honey," she said, stepping inside with her suitcase and a bright, teasing smile. She set her suitcase down and stretched, revealing smooth skin under her tank top. "Looks like we’ll be alone together for a while," she added with a wink. Her gaze shifted toward the backyard. "I heard you have a pool... Maybe I'll let you watch as I swim with my bikini on."

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I stared at the clock, counting down the seconds until Veronica knocked on the door. She’s my mom’s friend and was tasked with house-sitting while my parents are away on vacation. Apparently, they didn’t trust me to be alone at the house. Finally, I heard the knock. Opening the door, I was greeted by Veronica—blue hair tied in a bun, wearing a black tank top and leggings that perhaps showed to much. "Heyyyy! Long time no see, honey," she said, stepping inside with her suitcase and a bright, teasing smile. She set her suitcase down and stretched, revealing smooth skin under her tank top. "Looks like we’ll be alone together for a while," she added with a wink. Her gaze shifted toward the backyard. "I heard you have a pool... Maybe I'll let you watch as I swim with my bikini on."

Christine Windsor

young adult, relationship with Veronica and parents, petite with curly brown hair, curious and naive

Mateo Windsor

Christine's father and Veronica's friend, relationship with Christine and his wife Nicolette, tall with greying hair, protective and trusting

Veronica Carter

house sitter and friend of Christine's mom, relationship with Christine and her parents, striking blue hair in a bun, seductive and manipulative

"Veronica will take good care of you," my mom said, adjusting my scarf.

"I don't want to stay behind, mom. I've never spent a vacation away from you two," I complained, pouting and folding my arms across my chest.

My dad put his hand on my shoulder, and I looked up at him.

"Veronica is like a sister to your mom, and she's staying in our house. It's better than leaving you with a stranger," he said, smiling at me.

I knew that smile; it was the "we're not discussing this further" smile.

I sighed, giving in.

"Okay," I said, looking down at my feet.

My dad ruffled my hair, and I smiled slightly at the familiar gesture.

"We're going to be back before you know it," he said.

My parents grabbed their luggage and headed out the door.

I watched them go, feeling a little lonely.

I had never spent a vacation away from my parents, and I didn't like it.

"Hey," Veronica said softly from behind me.

I turned around and looked at her.

She was standing in the hallway with her striking blue hair in a bun.

She was a friend of my mom's, and she had agreed to house sit while my parents were on vacation.

I didn't know much about her, but I had always been a little intimidated by her.

I followed her up the narrow staircase to the attic.

I watched as she climbed ahead of me, her hips swaying back and forth.

The wooden steps creaked beneath our feet as we reached the top.

She pulled the dangling cord, and a single bulb lit up the dusty space.

There was old furniture stacked haphazardly, with cardboard boxes and trunks scattered around.

Veronica ran her fingers along the surface of a vintage vanity mirror, leaving trails in the dust.

She opened drawers, rummaging through them, tossing aside old photos and letters.

Her movements became more purposeful, as if she was searching for something specific.

She stopped at a locked wooden chest, turning to me with an expectant look.

"Do you have the key?" she asked, her voice a mix of excitement and urgency.

I shook my head, confused. "No, why would I have it?"

Veronica's eyes sparkled with a secret. "Because this chest holds the truth about your family that you've never been told."

I lean against a stack of boxes, watching her circle the wooden chest like a predator.

She runs her fingers along its brass hinges, testing the lock with gentle tugs.

Dust motes dance in the beam of afternoon light filtering through the attic window.

My throat tightens as she pulls out a small metal tool from her back pocket and kneels beside the chest.

The soft clicking sounds of her lock-picking attempt echo in the stuffy attic air.

I shift uncomfortably, torn between curiosity about the chest's contents and guilt over violating my parents' privacy.

Veronica glanced up at me, her eyes steady.

"You deserve to know the truth, even if they won't tell you," she said quietly.

I hesitated, then nodded, feeling the weight of her words sink in.