I bumped into her up at the Mount Vic Lookout. At first, I didn’t recognise her.
‘It’s Kay,’ she stated, pulling back her wind-wrecked hair.
‘Fuck, so it is,’ I said.
‘Still swearing,’ she noted, rolling her eyes.
‘Of course,’ I smiled, instantly remembering some of the sweet little reasons we’d split up all those years before. Still, I want the world to be a place of peace and love, so for five minutes I did the small-talk thing, feigning interest: how nice to see you, what are you doing here, how long are you staying, blah blah blah blah.
It turned out Kay was having a midlife crisis. Her beloved son had grown up and moved out of home as soon as he could, so she was making a solo trip to the other side of the planet to ‘find herself.’
‘So, you’re here alone?’ I asked.
‘Yes,’ she said proudly, ‘being on one’s own builds character.’ Adding quickly, ‘It’s so good to see you.’ She grabbed my arm. ‘I haven’t spoken to anyone in days. Let’s go for dinner.’
‘I was on my way home,’ I explained. ‘I just came up here for some fresh air.’
She gave me a sad look that at one time would have sucked me in, but now just looked like she had something wrong with her lips.
‘Plus look at me. I’m not dressed for dinner. I’d have to go home and change, first,’ I said, secretly planning on driving home and hiding there until she’d left the country. ‘We could meet later? Maybe next week?’
She smiled with a mad desperate look in her eyes. ‘I can come with you right now. I don’t mind waiting for you to change. Seize the day. It’ll be fun.’
So it happened that I was driving home on a Thursday evening with my long and happily forsaken ex, Kay. It was nice to see her in a way, mainly because every time she opened her mouth I remembered another reason why separating was the best thing we’d ever done.
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