Hot Romance

I was a thirty-eight, divorced, stay-at-home mom, as I'd always been in my nice big house, which Kevin paid for, with no friends and no life other than the phony ones I lived vicariously through on TV. And I'd always been like this, hadn't I? I used to tell Kevin that this was what normal life was, told him to grow up for years and stop wasting money while I,... just stopped.

Oh my.

On the TV, Steve said something quite witty and cutting at the taxi stand that I normally would have smiled at, but I only looked blank faced at the television, suddenly thinking about Kevin and how I'd dragged him down all those years. Kevin, who'd moved on.

Oh God, no. This couldn't be.

I batted the package of chocolate fingers from my lap and got up, looking across the room, not quite sure why I did beyond the sudden and simple need to move. I downed the rest of my second glass of wine as the storyline on TV cut to stupid, ugly Gail and walked quickly to the window for want of anywhere else, noting it was a very nice, early June day outside in Southern Ontario. They were predicting the first heat wave of the season to arrive in the next few days and there were concerns about power outages due to grid overload again,...

This thought was brushed away as I moved again, back to my thoughts of self, walking around my living room, pausing to stare at some ornament or something without really seeing it and realizing with further alarm that I'd always been boring, even in high school. I'd married Kevin after meeting him in my senior year, the only boy I'd ever dated, because no other boys would ask. Because I was boring. Kevin probably only asked because, at the time, he'd been having his severe under-bite fixed and the stainless steel braces screwed to his jaws made him undesirable to the more popular, exciting girls. If I hadn't gotten pregnant, he'd probably have dumped me the moment those braces came off but, instead, he went on to university to become a very attractive and successful corporate lawyer with a boring wife and twins at home.

I suddenly disgusted myself.

I stopped in front of a large, floor length mirror and took a good look for the first time in my life, it seemed, hardly able to look into my own pathetic brown eyes as they stared back.

I wasn't ugly, but not pretty either. I never bothered with makeup and my hair was just as boring as my face. Dark and long, the only thing it had going for it was its thickness and natural body. I'd gained weight since Kevin left. Not much, just enough to make me a little chubby with wider hips, bigger, (D cup now) softer breasts. I remembered a time when I worked out while I watched Coronation Street instead of gulping wine and cramming damnedable chocolate fingers into my mouth on the couch like the depressed, boring loser I'd become.

What followed was what I'm quite sure was a panic attack. I bolted for the front door, needing to get some air, but then diverted to the back of the house, through the kitchen for more private air. I burst the back door and stood for a moment before throwing myself into a deckchair on my veranda. I closed my eyes against a sudden need to cry, demanding that I stop feeling sorry for myself as my tears succeeded in leaking through my lids anyway. I'd wasted my life and I'd almost managed to waste all of Kevin's, too. Who could blame him for leaving me? At that moment, I'd have left me if I could have.

What was I going to do?

I opened my eyes after a minute or two and the answer was right there. Slowly getting out of the chair, I walked across the warm, cedar stained decking, sniffling and wiping my tears, looking at approximately four tons of idea that my boring personality was, even then, railing against.

I went back inside the house, ignoring my personality, to the cupboard where we keep our coffee mugs and spare keys. The ring with the round, crystal keyfob stood out right away and I grabbed it and went back outside, down the stairs to the driveway and the side door of the long Winnebago parked there. Kevin had bought it shortly before our marriage fell apart in a last ditch attempt to salvage some life out of me. He didn't even want it when he left, said he couldn't bear to look at it.

I inserted the key, turned it and opened the door. It was hot inside, all the windows being closed, but I stepped in anyway. I took a fresh look around at the well appointed quarters on wheels before moving to the front of the vehicle. I grabbed the faded black and red 'FOR SALE' sign out of the windshield where it was propped and tossed it to the floor before hopping into the driver's seat.

Almost hoping it wouldn't, I twisted the key and it started right up. I knew it would anyway because I'd had to periodically come out and start it over the past year, checking the tires to make sure they were properly inflated and running it back and forth in the driveway a few times to make sure it stayed in presentable condition for a top dollar resale.

I shut the rig down, reached over to the glove box and removed the park brochures Kevin had spread out in front of me just over a year before. 'Victoria Park and Campground' was the one he was most excited about.

After opening all the windows and doors so the behemoth could air out, I went back inside with the travel information.