“You’ve really let her go, son.”
“I know,” I admit. “I was thinking of buying a new car, anyway. Something modern. Was hoping we could look at something?”
He pulls himself out of the hood. “Since when do you want something modern?”
“The chicks dig it, Dad.”
I love Betty. She’s a classic and irreplaceable in my eyes. But she’s old and hard to get around in sometimes. She’s very temperamental, and occasionally she breaks down and becomes more of a headache than she’s worth.
And every part of me hates saying this because I’m not someone who falls head over heels for a girl and follows them like a sick puppy dog, but part of the new car idea is because Zoey loves them. She forever complained about Betty, and maybe she’ll be happy that I’ve finally moved forward.
“If that’s what you want, son. When do you want to go?”
“How about this afternoon?” I say, eager to start looking.
We head out in the afternoon to a local dealership that sells almost-new cars. The second I see the sexy black beast in the car lot, I know she’s the one—only a year old w
ith low mileage and the paint in mint condition. As an added bonus, it has a sunroof and decent wheels.
“Is this your new girl?” Dad asks, lifting the hood and checking the engine.
“I think she is.” I grin, sliding my hands across the door panel and admiring the new metallic paint.
Dad utilizes his negotiation skills and manages to knock down the price. With the paperwork signed, the dealer tells us the car will be ready to pick up tomorrow.
“So, what are you going to do with Betty now?” Dad questions on the ride home.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll leave her at your place. Time to make changes in my life.”
The road home is bumpy. Dad’s truck isn’t the most comfortable vehicle to sit in. We take a turn into the local diner stopping for a bite to eat.
“I think you’re doing all right, kid. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”
“I’m trying, Dad. It’s just hard.”
“Life ain’t easy, son. And if it’s easy, then maybe you ain’t trying hard enough for what you want.”
Life is complicated. Zoey complicates my life.
We’ve been texting, but like always, she’s reverted to normal as if nothing between us has happened. I struggle with not responding to her and unleashing my thoughts. Instead, I’m cordial and polite in my responses.
But then, I caved.
I told her I miss her.
Because I do. I just fucking miss her.
I don’t know how to articulate my thoughts, tell her that I have these feelings for her without ruining our relationship.
***
On Friday, I wake up refreshed and with a clearer headspace. With my bags packed, we drive into town and pick up my new car. I’ve never a fan of the new-car smell, and I’m still not. Zoey reckons they should capture the new-car smell in a can and make it an air freshener.
To be honest, the smell is kind of nauseating.
I say goodbye to Dad, and with the keys to my new car in hand, I’m ready to hit the open road.
That plan is shot down, heavy roadwork delaying the drive home. Thanks to my new sound system, I’ve hooked up the Bluetooth, and I scroll through my phone settling on some Ed Sheeran to ease the annoying drive back.