Authors: Shelly Douglas
“You’re hilarious,” she retorted through clenched teeth.
“We’ll be back soon, everyone is pretty efficient over there. Sorry, Denise, but you’ll have to finish loading the U-Haul on your own,” he mentioned, helping Michele with her seatbelt.
An hour and a half later, Paul got out of the car and pulled crutches from the back seat as Denise looked on from the front lawn. The front door of the car opened, and Michele swung her legs out, proudly displaying the one that sported an Ace bandage.
“Are you okay?” Denise asked with concern as she approached the car.
“Yep, just as our in-house doctor thought, it’s only a minor sprain. If I stay off of it for a couple of days, it will be fine.” Paul handed Michele the crutches as she stood. “So, I guess this puts me on the physically unable to perform list. You two are going to have to finish this move without me.”
“Not before I get you settled inside and make sure you’re comfortable. We don’t want any more mishaps,” Paul insisted.
“If I have to go to the bathroom, will there be a buzzer to press for assistance?” Michele smirked as he lowered her onto the couch.
“Nurse Fazio is at your service,” he commented over his shoulder, walking into the other room.
“I wasn’t surprised when you married someone ten years older, but I did seriously wonder if this union would work,” Denise said in a hushed tone.
“And now that you’ve had a bird’s-eye view of how we live?”
“I’m shocked that reality television show producers aren’t lined up on your lawn with contracts to sign.”
“What was that?” Paul poked his head back into the room and cocked it to the side.
“Nothing!” they both sang out in unison and started giggling.
“If you’re done testing my hearing today, I suggest we get this girl of mine settled.”
“Paul, the van is ready to go whenever you are. I’ll call Glen and let him know we’ll be there within the hour.” Denise grabbed her cell phone from the table.
“Are you going to be alright while I drive Denise over to her new place?” Paul asked as he placed a light blue fuzzy blanket over Michele’s legs.
“Stop worrying, I’ll be fine. If you hand me the remote control, I can even catch a few missed episodes of my favorite series.”
Paul stroked her curly hair, handed her the remote, and kissed her forehead. “I’ll be back within two hours, sweetie. Hey, where’s your phone? I want you to call me if you need anything.”
Denise came into the room, waving Michele’s phone in her hand. “Here it is. Thanks for all your help and support, big sister.” Denise bent over and hugged Michele, handing her the phone. “I’ll only be twenty minutes away, so don’t be a stranger.”
“Of course, I’ll call. Who else am I going to get into trouble with?”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll do just fine all on your own.” Denise said as she winked at her and left the room. “Love you,” she called out, not looking back.
“Love you, too,” she responded quickly with a smile before gazing up at Paul. “I’m so glad we were here for her when she needed us.”
“That’s what family is for, kiddo.”
Chapter Ten
“Why did you buy this for me? I love my car,” she whined as Paul led her by the hand outside. The used, bright red convertible Mazda Miata was a beautiful sports car, but as Michele peered into the open window, she noticed it was a manual and not an automatic transmission. She didn’t know how to drive a stick shift and was nervous about the purchase.
“Okay, this was a bit of an extravagance, but I couldn’t help myself. I saw the ad on
cars.com
the other day and out of curiosity went to look at it in person. I must admit, it was definitely out of character for me to buy this car on the spot, but I’ve always wanted one of these beauties.”
Michele looked at him, dumbfounded. “It sounds more like a gift for you than me. Do I get to swat your backside for going over budget?” she asked with an impish smile, crossing her arms. “I happen to know where you store that damn paddle.”
“Watch your language, young lady. I was just in the mood to be impulsive and thought my girl would be excited to have something new.” He thought for a minute and whispered in her ear, “If you don’t like it, I can always sell it.”
“No, it
is
a beauty, but why don’t you keep it for yourself?” she asked as they entered the car and got comfortable in the leather seats.
“Because I think everyone should know how to operate a stick shift. You never know when it might come in handy.”
Michele’s knuckles turned white as she tightly gripped the steering wheel. “My dad tried to teach me once. As you can imagine, it wasn’t exactly a happy ending.”
“Well, we’re going to try to correct that. Maybe when we’re finished, you’ll understand why your dad encouraged you.”
“But I already have a car,” Michele whined and thought for a moment.” “Oh, my God, have you listed my car to sell already?”
“No, not yet. But just because you had a bad experience learning how to drive a stick shift, doesn’t mean history has to repeat itself. I’m sorry your dad made such a big commotion about you blowing out his clutch.”
“Really? He told you that story?”
He shrugged. “I think it was the first time we met.”
“Yep, it’s definitely part of his collection of stories to show how uncoordinated I am. Hey, don’t they still have driving schools that offer this kind of behind-the-wheel instruction?”
“Now you’re just being silly. It’s really easy once you get the hang of it. Okay, this pep talk is now officially over, so put your seatbelt on and start the engine.”
She scanned the houses on the street through anxious eyes while securing her belt. “Why are all the neighbors looking out their windows?”
“Obviously, I’m not the only one who thinks this red convertible is a beauty. Now will you please start the car?”
Michele slowly rolled her eyes before complying, and the engine came to life.
“Do you remember anything your dad taught you?” Paul asked in an even-keeled tone.
“Yes. His extremely loud instruction to drift over to the side of the road so the tow truck could pick us up was memorable,” she deadpanned.
“Aside from that,” Paul said, looking upward for divine help and inspiration.
“I need to push down on the clutch to put the car in gear. But my leg is still weak from the fall,” she whimpered.
“Besides your sprain happening a week ago and being minor, it didn’t involve the foot you need for the clutch. Come on, Michele, take a look at the knob. All the gear positions are on it. This car has five gears—and a reverse feature.”
“Puhleeze, do we have to do this now, daddy? I’m hot and my tummy doesn’t feel so good.” Michele placed a shaky hand on the car handle, poised to open the door.
Paul squeezed her shoulder. “Let’s go around the block a couple of times and then see how you feel. If you’re still uncomfortable when we get home, I can take your temperature, baby doll… or maybe you need an enema,” he teased, putting his hand to her belly.
Michele glared at him before pressing down heavily on the clutch and putting the car in reverse.
“Slowly release the clutch and gently accelerate the car at the same time,” Paul encouraged.
“Look, my hands are all sweaty.” Michele dramatically flipped her hands upward.
“I see that, my little drama princess. Wipe them on your jeans and continue, please.” Paul crossed his arms and smiled.
Shaking her head with a snort, she put one hand back on the wheel and the other on the gear shift before accelerating. The engine roared like a lion, but the car didn’t move.
“Uh, you need to let up on the clutch now, baby doll,” Paul reminded in a soft voice.
Michele did as she was told, only too quickly, and the car lurched backward before stalling.
“Shit. See, I told you I’m no good at this, and now the neighbors are clucking like a bunch of old hens!” She turned and pointed a finger at each individual window.
“I really could do without the language, young lady,” he commented, quirking an eyebrow. “The same thing happens to most people when they first try to drive a stick shift. So turn the car on again, and this time, press the clutch down since you’re already in gear.”
Michele grimaced, glared at Paul, and returned her attention back to the task at hand. This time she pushed down on the clutch, turned on the ignition, and eased back as she accelerated. The car slowly backed out of the driveway and onto the street.
“Did you see that woman clapping? Jesus, I’m going to need a double martini after this.”
Paul laughed. “Since it’s only Wednesday, we’ll change your order to a chocolate milkshake.”
Her round face radiated with heat as she narrowed her eyes at him. “This is sooo humiliating.”
“You’re doing great, Michele. Now just push the clutch back down, put the car in first gear, and accelerate. Then take the pressure off the clutch.”
While following Paul’s directions she quietly muttered an obscenity under her breath, and the car slowly moved forward. “Hey, I’m doing it!” she screamed.
“Good girl. Now just shift into second, so you can go faster.”
“Are you kidding? Where’s second?”
“Michele, don’t panic. Just like the diagram shows—second is straight down from first. Do what you’ve been doing, push in the clutch and pull back on the gear shift into second. It’s really easy.”
“Easy for you,” Michele growled while making the attempt. As she did, a grinding noise emanated and Paul winced.
“It’s okay, you just didn’t have it quite in gear, try again.”
Stepping on the clutch, she pulled back on the shift and it slid into gear.
“Now ease up on the clutch, and you’re good to go.”
Michele nodded and sped up.
“Great! Now we’re coming to a stop sign, and you have a couple of choices. You can downshift, or put the car in neutral and coast to a stop.”
“Oh, my God, what in the hell are you talking about? I
hate
this!”
“Settle down, you’re doing fine. And let us thank God right now that no one is at the intersection. Just push in the clutch, shift into neutral, and then brake. That’s the easiest for now.” Paul’s hand grabbed his chest and his right foot seemed to press onto an imaginary brake on the floor until Michele finally stopped. “See, I knew my girl could do it! Let’s keep going and take it into third gear!”
Michele’s face was cherry red. “Does this car have air conditioning? I’m so hot.”
“Hey, let’s put the top down. That’ll cool you off.” Paul hit the button and the top began to retract. Once it was secure, Paul told Michele to repeat what she’d just done and turn right. Now feeling a bit more confident, she effortlessly put the car into first gear and moved forward. In a few seconds, Michele had shifted the car into third without hesitating.
“I recalled more from my dad’s lesson than I’d thought. I only stalled the car twice!”
“You did great!” he cheered. “See, Michele, like everything else you first learn how to do, driving a stick just takes practice.”
As they stopped at the next stop sign, she angled her head and fluttered her eyelashes. “Did they teach you that theory in med school?”
“As much as you complained, I could tell by the sparkle in your baby blues that you enjoyed tackling something new.”
“Now you read eye expressions. What’s next, tea leaves?”
“I do enjoy the spunk, but let’s keep your sass to a simmer. I’m sure the neighbors would love to get an eyeful of a grown woman receiving a spanking over my knee in her new car.”
“I don’t think this sports car is big enough for that,” Michele muttered under her breath as they approached the corner of her street. She noticed about ten people waiting for them to return to their driveway. “What are all those nosy people doing on our front lawn?”
“I’m not sure,” Paul responded. “But try not to hit them when you pull in, kitten.”
“I see you’re also a comedian. How versatile of you.” Michele pulled into the driveway, put the car in neutral, and stepped on the emergency brake. She slammed her body back into the seat and let out a huge sigh of relief.
All the neighbors on the lawn applauded as Paul reached over to give her a warm, strong hug.
“Hey, how’d she do? We thought for sure this little ride was going to end your marriage,” their next-door neighbor called out facetiously.
“If they only knew you were teaching your teenager to drive,” she whispered to Paul.
“Uh huh. Daddy needs to rest now.” He patted her knee and slumped down in the seat as the crowd looked on and laughed.
Chapter Eleven
“So, what do you think about going to the Kurlses’ Halloween bash on Saturday as Donald and Ivanka Trump?” Paul asked with a glint in his eyes.
“I’m okay with the famous father and daughter bit, but weren’t we only supposed to do this age-play thing during the week?” Michele countered.
“Honestly, it won’t take much to pull off ‘The Donald.’ I have suits and ties, but will have to figure out how to imitate his distinctive hairstyle. You on the other hand might experience a bigger challenge to emulate Ivanka.”
“Because you don’t think I’m stunning?” Michele’s lip formed an exaggerated pout.
Paul walked across the living room and sat next to his wife on the couch. “You’re gorgeous, but—”
“This is going to cost you,” Michele warned, looking through amused but narrowed eyes. “Tomorrow, I’ll see if Marsha is available to head over to Nordstrom with me after work. If it’s Ivanka you want, it’s Ivanka you’re going to get!”
Paul’s eyebrows drew together as his lips stretched horizontally. “Nordstrom? Uh-oh, maybe I should have suggested Bill and Chelsea Clinton.”
* * *
Michele phoned Marsha the next morning before class. “I need your help, girlfriend. Are you available to shop with me after school today?”
“And good morning to you, too,” Marsha said before exhaling a loud, audible yawn. “Let me guess. You need a costume for our party tomorrow?”
“Paul wants us to go as Donald and Ivanka Trump.”