Say You'll Remember Me(23)

I didn’t want to block him. Blocking him was engagement. It let him know that I’d noticed he was there, and that it bothered me enough to remove him. Blocking him or putting my profile back to private was a reaction and I swore they’d never get a reaction out of me again. So I did nothing.

I put my phone down instead.





12





SAMANTHA


GRANDMA, YOU SAID you had a car for me…”

We were standing outside the garage, staring at the teal-blue vehicle my five-foot-one, seventy-seven-year-old grandmother just unveiled.

“This is a car,” she said in her Spanish accent.

“Nooo, this is a land boat.”

“It is a 1966 Dodge Dart convertible. It’s in pristine condition, your grandfather took excellent care of it. It’s a classic.”

I sagged. “Grandma, I sold my Honda for this. This gets like seven miles to the gallon.”

“So? Where are you going? You’ve been here two weeks and you’re just now asking for it.”

She had a point. Still.

I hadn’t wanted to make the two-thousand-mile road trip with Pooter and when I’d mentioned shipping my Honda to California, Grandma said to get rid of it because she had something I could use. It sounded like a good idea at the time. No car payment. I just thought she was going to give me an old Toyota or something reasonable, not the Dart.

“This doesn’t even have AC,” I said.

“You open the air vent down at your feet for ventilation,” she said. “It’s on the passenger side, it gets a nice breeze. And it’s pretty. It’ll get men to talk to you.”

I made a face. “Ewww, I don’t want men to talk to me.”

“Well, you should. If you don’t use it your vagina will shrivel up.”

I laughed. “No it won’t.”

I was going to google this though.

“Here.” She shoved the keys into my hand. “It’s an automatic. It’s been sitting for a few months. You should probably start it up and take it around the block a couple times.”

I let out a long breath. I guess I could just drive it until I got something else. It was free.

“Your mother loves this car,” she said. “Drove it all through high school and college.”

I perked up. “Really?”

That could be a plus actually. Something she might remember. Maybe I could take her around the block with me.

Grandma patted me on the back. “If it breaks down, just open the hood. The men will come. Maybe you should do that even if it doesn’t break down.”

She turned and made her way up the driveway to the house in her robe and slippers. “Take care of your mother,” she called. “I’m taking a shower.”

“You got it,” I mumbled.

When she vanished up the front steps, I sighed and tipped my head back.

Pooter was in the windowsill in my apartment above the garage, looking down at me.

I was the only one not living in the main house. I had a little unit. Just a bedroom, small bathroom, and a cute balcony I could sit on, nestled among the overgrown lemon and orange trees.

I could have taken a room in the house, God knows there were enough of them, but Jeneva said she didn’t want “randos coming in and out at all hours.” Like I had any randos.

Mentally I was still in the spaceship with Xavier.

I hadn’t heard from him in two weeks. He texted the day after I’d gotten here to ask about Pooter’s bowel movements. I don’t know what I expected, but that was somehow exactly it.

I did tell him to forget me. I could still be disappointed that he did it though.

It was just as well.

I was never going back to Minnesota. I’d probably never even see him again. He was too attractive for me anyway. It was probably a red flag. I should just stick with medium-ugly men like I’m used to.

God, why had I said yes to that date? I was still kicking myself.

It was like setting your range to international on a dating website when you know damn well you can’t make it work with some hot Italian in Milan.

I dragged myself to my new land tank and got in.

It looked a little like the Thelma & Louise car. Long, silver trim. It had powder-blue vinyl seats that would be two thousand degrees when the sun hit them. Crank windows. No alarm, no auto start. It did have a radio. Someone had upgraded it at some point—with a tape player. I pushed the eject button and a cassette popped out. Lisa’s Mix Tape was scrawled on the label in blue pen. I smiled a little. Mom. I put it back and closed it.

I opened the center console. A half-empty ancient bottle of Sunflowers by Elizabeth Arden was rolling around on its side next to an equally gross bottle of coconut sunblock. There were maps and a Thomas Guide in the glove box. No drink holder. The car didn’t have a damn drink holder. I scoffed and slammed the compartment closed and turned the key. The car quivered to life, sputtering like an old man waking up. It struggled for a moment, then rumbled into a steady, healthy purr. I could already feel the heat of the V-8 engine coming from the dash and warming my legs.

It was going to be hot. It was going to be loud. It smelled like oil and gasoline.

Free, Samantha.

I’d give it one week. If I hated it, I was heading to a dealership.