Chapter 5

“You need to back into the driveway,” she informed Steve as they returned from the beach. Steve was reluctant to do that because she has to walk around the truck to get in her house, pulling the truck into the driveway nose first puts her passenger side door on the side nearest to the door to get in her house. “Don’t worry,” she said as she saw the concerned look on his face. She slid out of the cab of the truck before he could get around to her side of the truck.

“You ok?” asked a worried Steve. His truck is bigger than she was used to. She has a car, but she doesn’t drive. Normally, her youngest daughter, Natalia, drives it, and she lives in Gainesville at the University of Florida right now and she has the car so she can come home for visits.

Maria got her crutches underneath her and made her way to the back of the truck. “Oh, you’re such a mother hen.”

“That’s just what we need, we tell Doctor Albertson we can function together, and you snap a hip hopping out of my pickup.”

“I’m still mad at you, so relax.”

“Me?!? What did I do?”

“You serenaded me, as we drove here, that was very sweet,” she said as she patted his chest. “But you picked an ancient Beatles song and said it was something I could identify with. I’m not that old.” Steve had sung along with a cover of I Should Have Known Better, recorded by what sounded like a garage band.

“What ... Beatles? No, that was from a group called Brian Wilson and T.B.B.” It was a song that popped up as a suggestion in his Spotify oldies playlist.

“You don’t know what T.B.B. stands for?” Steve looked utterly lost and she wasn’t going to give him a break ... not yet, anyway. “T.B.B. is The Beach Boys, that’s the name they used when they recorded some party songs like Bah Bah Bah, Bah Barbara Ann, which was also ahead of my time.”

Now he looked shocked, “I’m sorry, I’ve never heard it before.”

Maria tried to stifle her laughter as she leaned back on the tailgate of his truck. “Here, I got something yesterday that I’m going to share with you, IF you’re good.” She gave him a kiss, then pulled the remote for the garage door out of her purse.

As the door slowly opened, Steve’s eyes opened wide in surprise. There in the garage sat a brand new Forest River Rockwood pop-up camper. It was folded up, but those models unfold easily. “What do you think?” she asked. Seeing the look on his face that had dollar signs creating worry lines, she said, “This is mine. The truck is yours. Together we go camping, I’m not going to ask you for a dime.”