"Y brought me here to hand over the Jeep," I guessed, tossing the keys up in the air and catching them. "Why here? Is there a ceremony for taking
ou your cast off and getting to drive again? Is it like being saved from the junkyard?"
"No ceremony, but I do have something for you." He caught the keys the next time I tossed them, then gestured to the tacky Porsche. "Ta-da!"
"Ta-da," I echoed, not sure what he meant. "It's a car."
"It's your car," he said. "If you want it."
"My car? It's ugly."
"On a good day, with a recent wash and wax, your Bug looked like it had been partially digested."
"It's just . . ." I folded my arms. "I thought I would pick out my own car."
He nodded. "I thought you would too. When were you going to do that?"
I shrugged. "It just seems hopeless. There's still the whole thing I told you about. My dad won't let me buy anything I can afford."
"Y eah, but old Zoey would have fought a lot harder about that. Old Zoey would have a car by now." He raised one eyebrow at me.
I stared back at him. Why didn't I have a car by now? I couldn't see a way to solve the problem, so I'd pretended the problem wasn't there. Again.
"Truthfully?" he said. "Since your mom got out of the hospital, you've seemed manic on the surface, flatlining underneath." He passed his hand through the air, a flat horizon dividing sky and sea. Then he reached out to rub the back of my neck. "Are you tired?"
Was I? I was so glad my mom was back at work and in my life. I looked forward to moving back in with her. And with her support, I'd sat down with my dad while Ashley wasn't home and told him I did not want him insulting my mom in front of me anymore, I did not want to be watched by cameras, and I wanted an appointment with a shrink. Just to talk. I would see her for the first time next week.
Things were looking up, but it all took a lot of energy. When Doug pulled me toward him, I leaned my head against his chest. "Y eah, I'm tired."
His low voice vibrated through his chest and warmed me. "This thing with your mom. It's so much better now, but it's going to take a while for both of you to get over it. Do you want to talk about it?"
I took a deep breath and sighed. "I love you," I said into his chest.
"I love you too." He stroked one hand from the roots of my hair all the way to the ends. My scalp tingled.
"Can we talk about it later tonight?" I asked. "It's such a beautiful day." I couldn't see the beautiful day with my head against Doug's chest. I meant how the day felt, the sun warm on my shoulders.
"So accept this favor from me," Doug said. "I found a car for you. It's been sitting here since the junkyard owner's son went to college, like, a decade ago. It just needed one little repair, an air . . . something."
I looked up at him. "Air intake?"
"Or something that pushed air out. It had something to do with air. Or water. Anyway, my brother's friend fixed it for you and checked all the hoses or whatever. The car's within your price range. And it has an air bag."
"Doug, that is so sweet." I squeezed his waist. "But you're doing the controlling thing again."
He held me away from him. "What's controlling about this?"
"For starters, you asked your brother to pull me over just now."
"Hm." He laughed. "Well, you don't have to buy this car. If you do buy it, you don't have to keep it forever. Just until you're not tired anymore and you feel like looking for another." He opened the driver's side door, ushered me in, and closed the door behind me. As he rounded the car I took a few big whiffs, but I couldn't smell cigarette or pot or BO or a dead body in the trunk. Doug was right. I had a lot going on in my life, and he'd done me a favor. There was no reason for me not to buy this car, except that I hadn't been in command of every step in the process. I took another deep breath and exhaled slowly, letting go.
Doug crammed his tall frame into the passenger seat sooner than I expected. It would take a while for me to get used to him walking without crutches. The car filled with the scent of him, the scent of water. "I promise not to be controlling anymore, okay?" he asked. "Except I'll probably surprise you on your birthday. And maybe one other time per year, when you need a little boost." He nodded toward the key in the ignition. "Want to see how it drives?" He was so pleased with himself. His green eyes crinkled at the corners.
I grinned at him. "I want to see how it parks."
My heart raced as we watched each other from our separate sides of the car for one, two, three seconds.
Then we met in the middle.