Paul stuffed the last of the camping gear into the back of the little blue Volvo. He wasn’t particularly looking forward to this holiday weekend anymore. It had started off as a grand multi-family adventure, with their all of their neighbors and friends going along, but life, as it will, intervened.
There were all kinds of last minute business and family emergencies. Paul and his best friend, Richard Jones, had made plans for jet skiing, rock climbing, portable video games and all kinds of other stuff. It was supposed to be an epic last big weekend before his friend left for college. They had both just turned eighteen.
Richard’s family had had to go out of town to attend to a death in the family. Their other neighbors, The Smiths, all came down with food poisoning and then Paul’s dad had gotten called into work at the last second. He was the head of security at an emerging tech firm. They had been the victims of a huge electronic security breach that required his immediate presence, probably for the entire weekend.
“Let’s make the best of it, Paul,” his mother said, coming out of the house with several bags of food. “It’s not up for discussion.”
Paul knew better than to argue with his mother. Sure, he could have just said no and walked away. He was eighteen after all, but that would have been bad. He had heard his mother that morning, nearly in tears, arguing with his father about having to go into work.
They hadn’t been getting along for what seemed to Paul years, and it was only getting worse. Paul had hoped the weekend would fix things between his parents, but now it was going to be a long weekend alone with his mother. He figured he could get some reading done and go on some hikes by himself. He sighed and got in the passenger side of the car.
His mother started the Volvo and off they went. “I’m really sorry, Paul.”
“It’s okay,” he said, meaning it. “I’m going to make the best of it, and you should too.”
“We already paid for the camping site. I already asked off work for these days and I really need to get away. You can still go fishing and canoeing and all that. I won’t bother you at all. Okay?”
“Yeah, Mom. We’ll have a great time,” Paul said, looking out the window at the passing scenery.
A few hours later they reached the camping site. They had reserved two spots right next to each other; with one big enough to park the neighbor’s RV and plenty of room for several tents. It had a huge picnic table, large shade tree and was close to the rest rooms and shower facility.
“Oh, this is nice right?” Paul’s mom said happily. “And look how close to the lake we are! This will be great. Plenty of privacy in this little corner. You start setting up the tents and I’ll go check in and get us some firewood.” She hurried off to the ranger’s office.
Paul started unloading their equipment and setting everything up. He just about had both tents up when his mother came back. “Okay, we’re good to go, I think.”
They finished setting up the camp together. When they were done it was well past lunch time and Paul’s mother cooked up some hot dogs.
“Thanks again for going camping with your old mother,” she said as they finished eating.
“Oh, you’re not old. Let’s go rent a canoe this afternoon.”
“Okay, that’s a deal. I’ll make us up some cheeseburgers tonight after we get back.”
Paul was surprised, but he had a great time out on the lake paddling all over the place and exploring the little coves and beaches with his mom. They found one beach that was almost completely hidden from view until you were almost on it. It was there that they took a rest and some water.
“Are you doing okay, Mom?”
“Yes, I just forgot how much hard work this was,” she replied before taking a big drink.
She was still a little out of breath, even though Paul was trying to do all the work in the canoe.
Paul worried about his mother and her health. She had gained a lot of weight in the last couple of years. The dock master even had a hard time finding a life vest big enough to fit over her round belly and her enormous breasts. She had taken it off as they took their break. Paul caught himself glancing at her massive, heaving chest and turned away.
“You okay, dear? Your face is so red.”
“Yeah,” he said, getting up. “It’s just a little hot. We should head back.”
“You’re right. Here, help me up,” she said, holding up her hand for him.
Paul helped her to her feet. As he readied the canoe for the return trip to the dock, he looked over at his mother. She was having hard time with the clasps on her vest, and he couldn’t help but stare as she wiggled and jiggled and grunted and mashed her breasts together; squeezing the vest over her mountainous chest. It was a mesmerizing spectacle.
“Shit,” he muttered as he turned away. For the first time in his life, he had been perving on his own mother.
“All ready,” she said a moment later. “Let’s get back, I’m famished.”
They made it back to the dock in good time. Paul looked back at the western sky and saw some black clouds heading their way. Usually it was his father’s job to ready the campsite for any incoming storms, but it would be up to him this time.
When they got back to the campsite, Paul set about making sure the car windows were up, picking up anything that might blow or float away and rechecking that their tents were set up on good high ground. Satisfied, he went over to help finish setting up for dinner.
“Wow! Just last year, in fact, we would have been yelling and looking all over for you to help and now you’re doing everything on your own. I didn’t even notice the clouds over there till after you started putting everything up. Thank you,” said his mom.
“Oh. Well, you know. Dad’s not here and I figure I have to take care of all his duties on this trip.”
Paul’s mother looked down at the ground for a moment before continuing her preparations. It was quick and she recovered well, but Paul could see that his talking about his father had upset her. He didn’t know what to do.
They ate in silence and afterwards, he helped clear everything away. His mother went to the car to grab a couple of bags and Paul went to work on starting the fire.
He had it roaring in no time and was playing a game on his phone by the fire when his mom came over. She had changed into sweat pants and a white T-shirt. “My camping PJs,” she said, handing him a soda from the cooler.
“Thanks,” he said, looking over at the large cup his mother was holding.
“I hope you don’t mind, but we still had all that tequila and whisky and mixers in the car, and I really need to unwind.”
“Of course I don’t mind,” Paul said, although he did, a little. His mom was prone to drinking when she was upset, usually ending up sloppy drunk and stumbling around. He figured she’d be okay here and he wasn’t tired in the least, so he’d stay up playing his phone and keep an eye on her. She would probably pass out early.
She took a big drink and then looked at him lovingly. “You’re so grown up. You know I’m very proud of you.” She took another big drink. She wasn’t going slowly tonight.
“Thanks, Mom. Are you okay?”
“Yes. I had so much fun today. Tomorrow, I’d like to hike up to Stone Peak together.”
“Think you can handle that?” Paul joked.
“What? I can handle anything you’ve got,” she replied, laughing. Then she drained her glass and made to stand up. “I guess I’ll—”
“Not on your life,” Paul interrupted. One of his father’s responsibilities was getting fresh drinks for his wife while they were camping. Well, at least that’s how it went in happier times, Paul thought. “I’ve got this. Remember that I’m handling all of his work on this camping trip!”
“His? Who—oh yes!” She laughed. “He, who shall not be named! Do you—?”
“Yes, I know what you’re having and I’ll be right back.”
A few minutes later, Paul returned with a fresh drink for his mother and another soda for himself. “Will you be able to sleep with all that caffeine?” she asked, draining half her cup. “Oh this is good! Much better than when I made it.”
“Thank you!” he said, proud of himself. “And yes, I will be able to sleep. Don’t worry about me.” He was even more proud of himself for making her drink twice as strong as usual. She’d be asleep soon and he wouldn’t have to deal with her drunken stupor. He smiled.
“Oh, very proud of yourself, aren’t you?” she said, slightly slurring her words and draining the rest of her drink. “It’s time to perform your duty, good sir,” she thrust her cup in his direction.
Paul laughed. He had forgotten that his mother and father fell into this mock-pseudo-Medieval dialogue when they were drinking. It used to be cute. He was their little page, back in the day. Now he wasn’t sure what he was. “Yes indeed, my fair, uh, Queen? I’m your, um—”
“Knight! You’re my handsome Knight!” she laughed hysterically. “And yes, I am the queen!”
“Uh…yes… um…well, your handsome knight will fetch a liquid refreshment suitable for thy great beauty,” he stuttered and went to get her another, stronger drink. He sucked at being a knight and he wasn’t sure if he had said something wrong. His mother was quiet over there. He was embarrassed and glad that she wouldn’t remember anything in the morning.
“Here you go fair maiden,” he said, kneeling down and offering her the cup as though it was a chalice. He wondered if fair maiden was an appropriate title for a queen or if that was reserved for princesses?
She laughed. “Verily, I am pleased by thy great servitude,” she stumbled on her words, laughed again and took a deep drink.
She took a little longer to finish this one and Paul enjoyed the peace and quite of the darkness and relaxing sounds of the crackling fire. Every once in a while they could hear another camper or children playing off in the distance but overall it was very quiet.
Paul lost himself thinking about his mother while staring into the fire. He loved her and hated to see her like this: drinking herself into oblivion. It had bothered him that she was out of breath during their canoeing session earlier, and he vowed to help her start a training regimen when they got back home.
“Hey, young knight!” his mother called over to him. She was leaning way back in her chair smiling at him and holding out her cup to him. “It’s time to perform your duty, good sir.”
Paul popped up and smiled. “Of course, fair lady,” he said, taking her cup and heading back over to the picnic table and cooler. He decided to make this the strongest one yet.
He hadn’t been paying close attention to how much alcohol he’d been putting in her drinks. He knew it had been a lot, at least double of what his father usually made for her. He brought the fresh concoction over to her, hoping this one would do the trick and knock her out. “Here we are, fair lady,” he said, remaining in character.
“Such a lovely young lord, thine are,” she said. Her eyes were glassy. It was starting to get chilly out and Paul’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he realized for the first time that night that his mother wasn’t wearing a bra. Her large nipples were poking out against her shirt. He glanced away quickly and retreated to his seat by the fire and back to the games on his phone.
Paul was almost to the next level in his game when his mother’s chair fell sideways, with her in it! He rushed over to his mother. She was laughing hysterically. She still had her cup in her hand. It was empty. “I can’t…shit…baby…I think you better…better,” she giggled.
“I think I better help you to your tent,” Paul said.