Until Next Time

My folks got divorced when I was 19 - they were both at fault, really. Dad was a run-around, mom was a bit of a - well, let's be honest, she was kind of bitchy. From about the age of 12, I had realized that they were a bad couple, a mismatch, and I got a lot of heat from them both when I dared to voice that opinion to an uncle at a family reunion. I suppose it embarrassed them for me to say that, but it embarrassed me to be out at dinner and watch my mom start bitching at my dad because he let his eyes linger on the waitress for too long. They were better off apart, is my point. I knew it, my younger brother knew it, the entire family knew it. They had only gotten married because my dad, 21 at the time, wanted to hook up with his 17-year old neighbor. And honestly, I can't blame him - I've seen pictures of my mom when she was a teenager, and she was pretty hot. Not 'holy crap I have an instant hard-on' hot, but definitely a looker. I never really thought of her th...

Home alone, finally. After a ten hour day at work, there was nothing I was looking forward to more than drawing a long, hot bath and spending the rest of the evening in bed. Feeling indulgent, I even took the time to light some candles and pour some Epsom salt bubble bath into the tub while it filled, already feeling relaxed by the floral aroma. In no time, the claw foot tub was filled with nearly scalding, bubbly water, and I sunk in, happily shutting my eyes. For whatever reason, work had been especially long that week, leaving tight, painful knots in my shoulders and feet, which I began to knead out, sighing at the relieving pressure. Not only had I had meetings scheduled during my lunches and after school every day that week, but one particularly nasty parent e-mail on Wednesday had left me exhausted and drained for the following days. It had been a while since I had looked forward to a weekend this much. Already feeling the stresses of the week begin to melt away, I let my hands ...