His Mother, My Vengeance

n't ta

er when Mark started to shif

rk down, his

e asked, tugging at th

otches starting to app

ly, taking a sip of water.

er neighbor's new fence. "...and I told her, that's at least six inc

ratching his arm, a rough, agitated

is lips. Now the splotches on his neck were a vi

ing by his plate. Then his eyes shot to his mother

ght with pain and disbelief.

interruption. "Flour, sugar, butter...

, his voice rising. He was scratching both

aid proudly. "Peanut

mixture of fury and agony. "Mom

, a desperate attempt to rewr

her script. "What are you talking about, Mark? You love

make me sick!" he yelled, finally standing up. He clutched hi

uncertainty crossed her face. "You're just being dramatic,

was m

d looked at Mark with

ther is right. You've always eaten her cookies. You ate one just this after

slighting right back in h

me, his eyes wild. "What? No! I t

r that. Are you sure? You've never once said no to yo

ecome the victim. "My own son! After I slaved away in the kitc

I was the calm center of the

said in a soothing tone. "He's just not feel

ubling over as a wave of cramps hit him.

was a spectrum, and while his wasn't as severe as

er. "You... how could

o's suddenly decided you're 'allergic' to everything, jus

war on his face. He was suffering, and for the first time, it wasn't my fault. He couldn't blame me. He cou

ard the downstairs bathroom, from which we

her face ashen. Her perfe

worry, Martha. I'm sure he doesn't mean it. He'll feel better in a l

sed to me a thousand times when

earching for an ally. She found

A half-hour later, Mark emerged, looking pale, exhausted, and utterly defeated. The

his mother. He d

bled, and trudged up the s

over. Round o

y the ruins of her perfect family dinner. For the first

ought. Get