Adela's Class
Copyright© 2026 by OmegaPet-58
Chapter 4: First Ride
ADELA
David surveyed my clothes, shoes, hair, and makeup.
“Looking good, Mom.”
“Not too much?” I asked.
“You’re teaching an adult-school class, not dinner and dancing. You’re just making a good impression. Which you will, I guarantee it.”
I heard the sound of a powerful motor from outside. Before I could stop him, David bolted out the front door. Uh-oh!
By the time I found my purse and walked out after him, David and Paolo were facing each other and talking. They stood on the sidewalk next to what had to be his big blue pickup truck.
“Yeah, we’ve lived here together ever since the divorce. I’m 20 and going to community college. I just wanted to meet you and thank you for helping her get back and forth.”
With that, David turned on his heel, brushed past me, and disappeared inside. As he passed me, he put his hand in front of his chest and flashed a “thumbs up” and a big smile that Paolo couldn’t see.
“He seems nice. Maybe a little protective?” Paolo said.
“Yeah, he worries about me, and he’s very aware of how wretched my car is. It’s so nice of you to drive me. So this is your truck?”
“Yeah, it’s my other child after Giulia.”
“You call her Giulia but she says Julie, is that right?”
“Yeah, she was named twenty years ago after my mother’s grandmother back in Argentina. That’s a long story, and I’d like to help you into the seat first.”
Smiling, he opened the passenger door and took my free hand as I stepped up and maneuvered into the seat.
“The seat’s pretty high.”
“Yeah, sorry. This model came that way.” He swung the heavy door shut. I located and fastened my safety belt. After he did the same and we got underway, he said, “You’re looking very nice tonight, Adela.”
“As do you. Do you need this big truck for your work as a mechanic?”
“Not really. It’s more, uh, the guys at the shop would make fun of me if I showed up in a little Japanese or Korean model. Peer pressure, is that the right word?”
“That’s right. I guess a woman mechanic would have an extra hard time.”
“Actually, no. There’s one at my shop who all of the men, including myself, go to for advice sometimes. If Lizzie saw your car, she’d put a hand on your arm and say, ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’ I’m afraid it’s really that bad, Adela.”
I lost my composure and started sniffling. I was feeling ashamed, embarrassed, helpless, all in front of a man who was only trying to help me.
“Paolo, I can’t afford another car right now, not even close. Months ago I put new tires on the wretched thing and I’m still paying for them. David is in college and I don’t want him to stop college for some crappy job. My ESL job doesn’t pay very much, and the private school I used to teach at folded. I have a small retirement fund but I can’t collect that until I retire.”
“Retire? You mean thirty-five years from now?”
“Paolo, stop. My son is twenty, and I wasn’t fifteen when I had him. How old is Julie?”
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