Read Online Drives Like a Dream by Porter Shreve - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Porter Shreve
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horsey sauce, while her children were celebrating their father's new life.
Pull it together,
she thought to herself. She patted her eyes with the stiff napkins and got up to toss out the leftovers. In the bathroom, she splashed cold water on her face, then soaped a paper towel to clean the grease tracks off her skirt. But the stains smeared, of courseâthe skirt was probably ruined.
Davy had given her his cell phone number this morning, and though she'd promised herself she wouldn't use it, this did qualify as an emergency. She dug in her purse and found the slip of paper. She figured the service would have to be over by now. At the Arby's pay phone, Lydia took a deep breath and dialed.
Davy answered on one ring, his voice cross. "What?"
"There's been a problem," Lydia began.
"Oh, Mom. I'm sorry. I was expecting Teresa. She's been driving me nuts."
"Where are you, honey?"
"You don't want to know," he said. "I'm driving Dad's car to a place in Birmingham called the Casual Cactus. The wedding was interminable, and Dad played a ridiculous song on the guitar."
"He plays guitar?"
"Apparently. And before the reception is over I'm sure he'll wrangle me in for a jam session."
"Where's Jess?"
He hesitated. "Oh, she's in another car. Listen, Mom, how about I call you back? I shouldn't be driving and talking on the cell."
"Actually, I better call youâin about fifteen minutes?"
"Fine," Davy said. "Talk soon."
When Lydia returned to Uncle Ed's, the manager told her that the towing service had called and the guy was available if she buzzed him back within the next fifteen minutes. Lydia thanked him and said she just needed to get something from the glove compartment before calling.
Sitting in the driver's seat of her broken-down Escort, she allowed the minutes to tick by. She wouldn't call the towing service, not until after she had spoken with Davy, she decided. He could save her a lot of money that way. But when Lydia went back to the garage and dialed Davy's cell phone, she got his voice mail. She tried several more times before he finally picked up.
"Hey, Mom. We're just walking in to the reception now. What's going on?" He raised his voice over the noise of a crowd.
This time Lydia did not delay. "My car broke down."
"Jesus. Where are you?"
"Ann Arbor."
"Ann Arbor? What are you doing there?"
"It's a long story." She caught herself. "Research."
"Who is it?" Lydia overheard Jessica asking.
"It's Mom," Davy said, and then Jessica was on the line.
"What's the problem?"
"The car died."
There was a pause, just the din of the party in the background. Then, "Surprise, surprise. How perfect, Mother. What impeccable timing."
Lydia felt her calm slipping. "Is it my fault that the car died, Jessica?"
"I don't believe this."
"Perhaps you'd like to speak with the manager at this lube shop where none of these mechanics know how to fix it."
"You're amazing."
"Don't talk to me that way."
"Here we are, literally walking inside the restaurant to the reception and you call looking for a rescue. I honestly can't believe you sometimes."
"Jessica, I swear to Godâ"
"Maybe you'd like us to send Dad out there to fetch you."
"That's not funny."
"And you're calling from Ann Arbor. Taking a little drive down memory lane?"
"Forget it. You just go ahead and shower your father with all the affection in the world on his
special day.
" She heard her voice crack. "Why am I always expected to make the world perfect for those who can't help themselves?"
"Those who can't help themselves? Look at you. Pulling a stunt like this?"
With that, Lydia slammed down the phone.
Why did her daughter hate her for caring? This morning had been fine. When had things gotten off track? Suit yourself, she thought. She would find her own way home. She had waited for eighteen months to see her kids. For this?
Just then the phone rang. Lydia picked up without thinking.
"Mom?"
"Davy, how did you get this number?"
"Caller ID. Listen, I'm
Pull it together,
she thought to herself. She patted her eyes with the stiff napkins and got up to toss out the leftovers. In the bathroom, she splashed cold water on her face, then soaped a paper towel to clean the grease tracks off her skirt. But the stains smeared, of courseâthe skirt was probably ruined.
Davy had given her his cell phone number this morning, and though she'd promised herself she wouldn't use it, this did qualify as an emergency. She dug in her purse and found the slip of paper. She figured the service would have to be over by now. At the Arby's pay phone, Lydia took a deep breath and dialed.
Davy answered on one ring, his voice cross. "What?"
"There's been a problem," Lydia began.
"Oh, Mom. I'm sorry. I was expecting Teresa. She's been driving me nuts."
"Where are you, honey?"
"You don't want to know," he said. "I'm driving Dad's car to a place in Birmingham called the Casual Cactus. The wedding was interminable, and Dad played a ridiculous song on the guitar."
"He plays guitar?"
"Apparently. And before the reception is over I'm sure he'll wrangle me in for a jam session."
"Where's Jess?"
He hesitated. "Oh, she's in another car. Listen, Mom, how about I call you back? I shouldn't be driving and talking on the cell."
"Actually, I better call youâin about fifteen minutes?"
"Fine," Davy said. "Talk soon."
When Lydia returned to Uncle Ed's, the manager told her that the towing service had called and the guy was available if she buzzed him back within the next fifteen minutes. Lydia thanked him and said she just needed to get something from the glove compartment before calling.
Sitting in the driver's seat of her broken-down Escort, she allowed the minutes to tick by. She wouldn't call the towing service, not until after she had spoken with Davy, she decided. He could save her a lot of money that way. But when Lydia went back to the garage and dialed Davy's cell phone, she got his voice mail. She tried several more times before he finally picked up.
"Hey, Mom. We're just walking in to the reception now. What's going on?" He raised his voice over the noise of a crowd.
This time Lydia did not delay. "My car broke down."
"Jesus. Where are you?"
"Ann Arbor."
"Ann Arbor? What are you doing there?"
"It's a long story." She caught herself. "Research."
"Who is it?" Lydia overheard Jessica asking.
"It's Mom," Davy said, and then Jessica was on the line.
"What's the problem?"
"The car died."
There was a pause, just the din of the party in the background. Then, "Surprise, surprise. How perfect, Mother. What impeccable timing."
Lydia felt her calm slipping. "Is it my fault that the car died, Jessica?"
"I don't believe this."
"Perhaps you'd like to speak with the manager at this lube shop where none of these mechanics know how to fix it."
"You're amazing."
"Don't talk to me that way."
"Here we are, literally walking inside the restaurant to the reception and you call looking for a rescue. I honestly can't believe you sometimes."
"Jessica, I swear to Godâ"
"Maybe you'd like us to send Dad out there to fetch you."
"That's not funny."
"And you're calling from Ann Arbor. Taking a little drive down memory lane?"
"Forget it. You just go ahead and shower your father with all the affection in the world on his
special day.
" She heard her voice crack. "Why am I always expected to make the world perfect for those who can't help themselves?"
"Those who can't help themselves? Look at you. Pulling a stunt like this?"
With that, Lydia slammed down the phone.
Why did her daughter hate her for caring? This morning had been fine. When had things gotten off track? Suit yourself, she thought. She would find her own way home. She had waited for eighteen months to see her kids. For this?
Just then the phone rang. Lydia picked up without thinking.
"Mom?"
"Davy, how did you get this number?"
"Caller ID. Listen, I'm
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