This is the second installment of my short story “Test Drive”. It’s a story unfolding. Feel free to comment and let me know what you’d like to see happen. I hope you enjoy it:

*************** Test Drive **************

Margo no longer lived with her father. He had moved on with the widow Boulier two years earlier and had set up housekeeping in a warmer climate. He’d left her in charge of the family house. It just seemed easier to stay in the familiar than to dredge up her lost future and try something new. Dylan lived with her now. She still wasn’t sure how that had happened.

Last summer he’d worked construction on the new addition at the dealership. She’d gotten caught up in his eyes, his arms–and his bed. He’d wrapped his dreams around her. It felt right when he gave up his apartment to move to the house.

Then six months ago he’d thrown out his back–so he said. Now he was waiting for his disability to come through. Meanwhile, he’d taken to hanging out with a bunch of guys, wasting his days with a cooler full of beer in the woods or at the lake. He was going soft around the middle, and each day she was finding it harder to remember what she had found so appealing in his lazy approach to life.

She was frustrated by her situation. Even though she never complained, it irked her that no one in her family acknowledged her sacrifice. Everyone was proud of baby-sister and for some reason, approved of Dylan.

Margo abandoned the musings of her life for the gas pedal when the tractor impeding her progress finally turned into the field. The boy on the back gave her another thumb up as she revved the engine and shot around the potato harvester. The farmer, by not fault of his, had ruined the best part of the drive, and she arrived at work late and pissed. No one noticed.

“Morning Margo.”

She smiled, negligently waving and greeting the receptionist and service guys. Armed with a mug of black sludge that passed for a caffeine fix, she made her way to her desk. Margo settled in to finish plans for the “post-Labor-Day-Veteran’s- Celebration-Thanksgiving-holiday-car extravaganza”. To Margo, it was the “dump the old inventory at top dollar, but make it feel good” sale. She hadn’t sold a car for a couple of weeks, but her commissions had been good over the summer, so she wasn’t feeling any financial pressure–yet.

Immersed in her work for nearly an hour, Margo jumped at the sound of her name.

“Hey Margo.” Rob yelled. One of her sales guys sauntered into the room. “There’s an old guy in the lot looking at cars, why don’t you take him, give him a little thrill.” He whistled through his teeth, nodding his head and leering at her cleavage. He laughed. Rob was definitely a true pig of the chauvinistic species.

Margo knew she overdressed for northern Maine. Her shopping trips to Boston, New York and Quebec were fodder for callous ribbings. For her, they were the only thread she still held to the reality of the outside world.

She only traveled three or four times a year, usually to hook up with high school girlfriends. For a weekend she could live vicariously through them.

Copyright Kara Dunn 2008

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