Chapter 2

A salesman came at me fast. "Evening, ma'am. What are you looking for?"

"Nothing fancy," I said. "Something easy for school runs."

Two hours later I drove off the lot in a compact electric car that cost me 13 thousand dollars.

My mother always told me one car was plenty for one family.

Gas, parking, insurance, and upkeep stacked up fast, she said.

I listened. I had my license and no car, and I banked the difference against whatever the future might throw at us.

Getting soaked to the bone changed my math. The present deserved to be lived first, and the future could take what was left.

I settled into the driver's seat and looked out through the windshield.

From that night on, I was done waiting on anyone to come get me.

*****

Charlie and Edward were both asleep by the time I got home.

I washed up and was climbing into bed when Edward's phone lit up, again and again.

Charlotte's messages stacked up on the screen: [Thank you for today. Just got cleaned up, heading to bed.]

Charlotte: [Your wife didn't give you trouble over it, did she?]

Charlotte: [Tell her I'm a germaphobe. I can't stand a crowded car.]

Charlotte: [If she still doesn't get it, I'll explain it to her myself next time.]

I read every one of them, looked at Edward sleeping beside me, and shook him awake.

"Your coworker's texting you," I said.

I left him blinking in the dark, lay down, and closed my eyes.

I woke early the next morning.

Every weekend the three of us drove out to his parents' place in the country.

Once the bags were packed, I took Charlie's hand and walked him down to the garage.

Edward trailed behind us.

Charlie spotted his dad's car and started toward it.

I caught his hand. "Hey, bud. Ride with me instead?"

"Your car?" Charlie squinted up at me.

Behind us, Edward's head came up.

I pulled out the key and pressed it, and a small hatchback two rows over chirped twice.

Charlie's whole face lit up. "Whoa. Mom, your car is so cool!

"Mom, we don't ever have to get rained on again!"

Guilt hit me square in the chest.

I'd carried him to preschool and back on that scooter every day, and he'd taken the rain right along with me.

Other kids climbed into a warm car with their dads. Charlie never got that.

"That's right. No more rain for us," I said, my voice catching.

Edward came up beside me. "You went out last night to buy a car?"

I nodded. "Yeah. You won't have to be bothered with us anymore."

Edward went quiet for a beat before he tried again.

"Two cars means two parking spots, two insurance bills, charging on top of that. How do we carry all of it?"

Money between us had always been split down the middle.

I covered the groceries and the day to day. He covered the mortgage and the car payment.

I kept my voice even. "Don't worry about it. My paycheck covers one little car just fine."

Edward didn't say anything else.

I buckled Charlie into mine and left Edward to drive his own, alone.

Charlie spent the whole drive to his grandparents' craning around the cabin, touching everything within reach.

"Mom, I'm so happy. Now the other kids can't say we don't have a car," he said.

That last part caught on something in me.

Charlie had never once told me the other kids teased him about it.

We weren't rich, but the car Edward drove had cost over 150 thousand dollars.

I laughed at myself and made a quiet promise: nobody was going to make my son or me feel small again.