70. Ollie
Chapter 70
Ollie
It’s only fair to let Megan sleep in, given how hard she's been working lately. There are only a couple of weeks of term left, and she desperately needs the break. Carefully, I pull on jeans and a t-shirt, grab my keys, and sneak out to the van.
There’s always a list of jobs to finish, but standing in here now, nothing is jumping out at me.
The woodwork has been painted and varnished, countertops are sealed, and the tiny shower is watertight thanks to a pull-out screen I installed. There are latches and hooks and bungee cords in all the right places to keep everything secure. I’ve heard stories of folks driving bendy roads in the Highlands and half their stuff falling out of cupboards.
The new side window has curtains Megan sewed for me, with pockets she added along the front for storage. She also made a padded bench topper in wipe-clean material that folds into thirds. In warmer months, I’ll be able to lie on it outside and sleep under the stars. I told her everything needs to have at least two purposes, and she’s nailed it.
Out back, I open the rear doors and double check all my storage compartments. The drawers I built by hand are smooth on their runners. The pull-out table where I’ll eat breakfast in the open slides out like a dream, and underneath is room for two spare freshwater tanks I’ll fill up before each trip.
Everything has a home, including a spare folding chair. Hopefully, I’ll make friends on the road, some people to share morning coffee with, or a few beers at sundown.
I still remember the first van life video I saw, and seeing that it must be a sense of freedom to be in charge of your own destiny. Construction was always a career I knew I could do anywhere, and soon that little idea of life on the road was all I could think about.
The plan was always to keep things simple, and I probably could have hit the road weeks ago, but we’ve gone way beyond that. Partly because Megan kept finding cool hacks that made sense to implement, partly because I’ve been adding projects to my list to drag things out a little longer.
I can’t believe there’s nothing left to do.
After double checking my battery set-up, I hop round into the driver’s seat. The front cab has had a thorough scrub, and I borrowed an upholstery cleaner from Mrs Porter to get years of grime out of the seats. Splitting this section off from the main living space was the right call. It was the first big decision I had to make, and I haven’t regretted it once. It feels less like I’ll be living out of a van, and more like I’ve got a two-room property on wheels.
There wasn’t much else to do up front, but it’s pretty drab and could use a little colour.
Megan would add a little colour.
My gaze lingers, as it often does, on the passenger seats. This has always been a solo mission, but it’s hard not to imagine myself feeling lonely on these long drives with an empty space beside me.
The piece of crap I bought six months ago is unrecognisable, and so am I. Not just because I’ve finished what I set out to achieve, but because of her. I still need to pack up my stuff, and give Mr Porter notice at work, but I could turn the key and go right now. And yet, something’s stopping me.
Not something.
Someone .
The naked woman in my bed.
In a custom van build, everything needs two purposes, and I guess the same is true of people. If life on the road is one of mine, the other one is loving Megan.
She’s still asleep when I strip off and crawl into bed behind her.
“Please say you’ve been out for pastries.”
“What if we grabbed some on our way out of town?”
“Out of town where?” she hums sleepily, wriggling her hips back against me.
Getting her naked and spending the day in bed is tempting, but I want to do this more, and I want to do it with her.
“She’s ready,” I whisper.
“Who’s ready?” Megan asks, then freezes in my arms. “Oh, the van.”
I pull at her shoulder until she rolls to face me, but her eyes cast downwards until I cup her face to get her to look at me. We’ve both known this moment was coming, and I thought she’d be excited for me, but the closer we’ve gotten, the harder this has become.
“Come on an adventure with me.”
“What?”
“Right now. Let’s take her for a test run.”
“I can’t just go,” she protests.
“Do you have plans today?”
“School work and, it’s just…” she falters. “I thought you’d want to do this on your own. She’s your baby.”
“Come on,” I say, throwing back her covers. “I really want to do this with you. Everything’s done. Please?”
“OK,” she sighs, and when I dip to kiss her, I’m so excited we clash teeth. My second attempt is better, soft and slow, the way we usually are in the morning.
“I’m gonna take a quick shower. You pack a bag and let’s go get you some pastries.”
Leaning against Megan’s doorframe, I watch while she surveys the clothes she’s laid out on her bed.
“I’m really overthinking how much stuff I might need,” she frowns, picking at her lip.
“I’d say so.” I loop my arms around her waist and bury my face in my favourite spot. “It’s just one night.”
“I want it to be perfect.”
“Then all it needs is you.”