Meet the Author
Chapter 3

Copyright© 2010 by John Smith

Teri had heard the door and looked out the kitchen window to see her daughter walking across the street. Grabbing a towel, she dried her hands, and just watched. Either there was going to be fireworks, or she missed a call earlier.

'Darn cell phones, ' Teri thought. She didn't know half of what went on, right under her own nose.

She watched as the door opened and her daughter walked into the neighbor's house. She hadn't missed the slip of the tongue Cynthia had made, almost calling him by his first name. Teri wondered if she should warn Brad about her daughter's obvious crush, but then thought better of it. It would be more prudent to tell her father, lest he find out and do something rash.

Opening the door that led out to the garage, Teri called, "John..."

There wasn't an answer for a moment and then she saw him.

"Get your hands cleaned up," she said, not wanting to let him in the house with greasy hands. "We have some talking to do."


Cynthia tried to feel confident, but the best she could do was try an act of courage outward. Inside she still felt a bit hurt about how Brad had bolted. The conflicting feeling to that was, knowing his loss. The deep rip that would have caused and how she...

As soon as Cynthia stood in the doorway of my house she wondered what to do next.

"Thanks for coming over."

"Sure. You said..."

"Yes. Come on..."

I led her to the garage and opened the door. Inside were two cars. Pressing a button for the garage door opener, the far door lifted. Then I dropped a set of keys into Cynthia's hands.

"Take it out for a spin."

"What?"

"Take it out for a spin."

"But..."

"Cynthia, I can't use two cars. Please, if nothing else, amuse me."

She didn't know what to do, so she started to walk towards the car.

"Brad, I can't."

There was a moment of silence before I said, "Why?"

"I ... I need my driver license."

This time Cynthia bolted across the street.


Teri and John looked over to their daughter as she flew in, through the front door.

Cynthia didn't even think it was odd that her parents were in the living room, talking, at that time of the day.

She stated, as though it was an insult, "He wants me to drive a car!"

The statement hung in the air. They all looked at each other. The first to react was Teri. She started to giggle. John couldn't keep his expression still and soon was snickering. Cynthia's parents soon degraded to full out laughter.

"What's so funny?" Cynthia said, crossing her arms in front.

"Did you hear yourself?" her mother replied. "You barge into the house as though the world is ending and then..." Teri couldn't help laughing again.

John continued the line of thought, saying, "You said he wanted you to drive a car!"

Cynthia looked at her parents as though they must have lost their minds.

"But..."

Then, groaning in frustration, Cynthia stomped upstairs.

Teri looked at her husband and said, "Should I, or do you want to do this?"

"You go upstairs, I'm going across the street."


Teri knocked softly and then opened the bedroom door, not waiting for an invitation.

Cynthia was sitting at the window, looking outside, presumably across the street

"Want to talk about it?" Teri asked her daughter.

Glancing over at her mother, she turned back to the window without replying.

"Not sure what to say?" Teri pressed on. "I know you like him."

"Mom," Cynthia said in an annoyed voice.

Teri wasn't going to let it go.

"So you like him, that's ok. We figured that one out. Did it surprise you that he might like you?"

"Mom," Cynthia said in the same tone.

"Well, you're not saying much, so I just have to fill in the blanks."

Teri knew that would get to her daughter.

"He ask me to drive..."

"Yes?"

"It wasn't his car."

"Whose was it?" Teri asked, a bit confused now.

"It was hers," Cynthia said.

"Hers ... Oh!" Teri said, catching on. "Melody's car."

"Yeah. See why I can't drive it?"

Mother and daughter looked at each other, both of them sighing.

"The kids won't remember it was their mother's car."

"But I will. It would be like me ... I don't know ... taking her place."

"That is the best reason I've heard you give yet."

Cynthia looked at her mother before saying, "It is?"

"Yep. I think that's the underlying reason, and you finally got it out. You don't want to take her place."

A blush came over Cynthia and Teri saw it, but didn't say a word.

"Come on," Teri said.

"Where?"

"Across the street."

"Mom!"

"You ran away, just like he did. His feelings are hurt, just like yours were. It's time you talked this out."

"But..."

"Come on, I don't want to have to say it for you."

"Mom! You wouldn't!"

"Coming?" Teri asked as she moved to the door.

Cynthia let out a groan of frustration, but got up.


I watched as John walked across the street. After she ran away, I thought Cynthia might have a little problem with the car ... but her father?

"Hi, Brad," John said when he got close.

"Hello."

"Is this the car you asked Cynthia to drive?"

"Yes. It's a great car."

"I'm sure it is. Looks like it hasn't been used much."

"It hasn't. You know it was pretty stupid of me to ask Cynthia to take it for a spin."

"Oh?"

"I'm not even sure it will start. It hasn't been turned over in over a year."

"Oh," John said, totally missing the implications of that. "Maybe we should check the battery then."

"Yeah, probably a good idea. Here's the keys," I said and tossed them to John. "Let me look in on the kids. Pop the hood. I'll be right back out."

I went inside, closed the door to the garage and leaned against the nearest counter top. I had thought it was rather smooth, the way I'd done that. The feeling John was going to try and get me to open the car, or worse sit in it, was almost too much. I just needed to wait just a little longer, before I went back outside. Looking at the engine would be safe.

Just for safety's sake, I ran and did check on my children. As I figured, they were just fine. Coming back out to the garage, I left the door to the house open. The hood was up and John was leaning over, looking inside the engine compartment.

Turning just a bit to see it was me, John said, "Didn't even want to budge. My guess is that you have one dead battery. I have a charger, if you want to try that."

I wasn't a mechanic, not even a home mechanic. I took my cars to be fixed. Knowing John tinkered with their cars, I did what I could. Ask questions.

"I have no idea. Is it bad to have the battery dead for so long? I wouldn't want to charge it and then have it die again."

"Looks like a six year battery, Brad. If the sticker is right, it's only two years old. I think a good charge would be just fine."

"Dad, what are you doing?" Cynthia asked, seeing her father looking under the hood of the car she couldn't drive.

"The battery's dead. It ain't going nowhere for the time being. It'll take until tonight to get a good slow charge in it."

"Are you pulling the battery out, dear?" Teri asked.

"Easier to do that way. I guess I need a half inch, and..." he said to himself as he walked back across the street.

I looked at Cynthia and said, "Sorry, I didn't even think about that. I'm glad you didn't get in the car, and think you did something wrong."

 
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