Ten for Ten

Open Road

After yet another move to another town, they’d landed in the wilderness.  In a land where it the temperature was always 80, either plus or minus, where there were more farm animals than people, her father decided to put down roots.  Sick as she was of travelling, of staying one step ahead of bill collectors both legal and not, she’d been thrilled to stop moving.  But Antonia hadn’t considered the ramifications of leaving behind the anonymity of a big city.  Or the importance of a fresh slate to her self-esteem.

When she was young, hurried packing and frantic leaving had been a great adventure.  Once she hit her teens, and was old enough to understand the whys, not so much.  Who wants to be the new kid all the time, especially a shy one with a stammer, a learning disorder and a mildly criminal father? 

But it was senior year.  With any luck, she’d be attending college come next fall.  As long as it wasn’t near here, she didn’t care which one.  Though given the state of her grades, it would take a fair bit of luck.

Distracted by her thoughts, it took her several minutes to notice the vehicle following her down the street.  Fantastic.  This was what her day needed, a truckload of meatheads intent on ruining her day.

They didn’t disappoint, honking and hollering ridiculous, vulgar things in her direction.  Some of which she didn’t think were even anatomically possible.  She sighed deeply.  It might have been worth trading her virginity for some peace of mind.  But then again, it would have given Dean Ardsley and his obnoxious friends even more reason to taunt her.  No sense in being labeled the class slut as well.

Hunching further into her sweatshirt, a poor invisibility shield but the only one handy, she kept walking.  The car revved up and zoomed past her, naturally kicking up last night’s rainwater onto her jeans.  Antonia often wished for thicker skin.  All things considered, she should be impervious to mockery.  It was senior year.  She cleaved to that fact.

The deciduous trees were turning, a wondrous sight to behold amidst the stately evergreen pines, and the light was damn near perfect.  Tempted to pull out her sketchbook, Antonia took a quick look at her watch and decided against it.  Her father hated it when she was late, and she promised to be home by five. 

With a little vigorous walking, she let herself in the back door with a whole minute to spare.  Pleased at herself, she opened the refrigerator to grab a Coke.  A refrigerator that was empty, as usual.  She’d forgotten to go grocery shopping.  It would have to be water. 

“Antonia is that you?” 

After Danielle, her father’s taste in women had sunk dramatically.  Thinking of her first stepmama made her wistful.  Not for the first or she suspected the last time, Antonia found herself missing her intensely.  She knew her father wouldn’t have devolved the way he did if Danielle’d still been alive. 

“Hi Star.  Is my father home?”  Star made nails on a chalkboard appealing.  Not intentionally even, just everything about her rubbed Antonia the wrong way.  Maybe it was jealousy.  Lord knows the woman was beautiful.  Dumb as dirt, but beautiful in a pin-up girl next door kind of way. 

“Sure is honey.  He’s in the garage.  Wants to talk to you right away.”  Star sashayed into the kitchen and downed the glass of water Antonia had poured for herself.  “He’s in bear of a mood, so don’t give him any sass.”  Motherly advice dispensed, Star disappeared back into the living room. 

Passing through the laundry room, she realized she’d forgotten to empty the dryer.  Which meant the clothes would be a wrinkled mess, and like as not she’d have to wash them again.  Or iron.  But nobody, least of all Antonia herself, trusted her with an iron.  Many a burnt shirt had seen to that.

“Daddy?” she called out as she stepped into the garage.  Freezing, as usual, and she’d left her shoes in the kitchen.  All that was forgotten when her eyes glimpsed the beautiful 1930s cherry-red Packard convertible improbably sitting in her garage. 

“It’s a present for you.  Since you finally got your license this summer, I figured you needed wheels.”  Her father stood just behind her, in the doorway to the laundry room watching her intently.  At fifty-seven still as good-looking at ever, Antonia noticed that the tension he’d been carrying this past week was gone.  Must have been the stress of keeping the surprise.  For someone who made his living through dubious means, Antonio Acevedo was a surprisingly bad liar.

“What do you mean, it’s for me?  The car?  But where’d you get the money?”  A question she tried not to ask normally, but vintage cars like this were expensive.  She wasn’t going to drive around in a hot car, no matter how beautiful.

He gave a wry grin and grabbed her hand.  “Relax, it’s legit.  I won it in a hand of poker.  I knew it would be perfect for you.”  He tugged her over to the car, handed her the keys, and opened the door.  “Go take it for a ride.  He promised me it was in great condition but who knows?”

Antonia thought about for a minute, and then threw hers arms around her father.  “Thank you!  It is absolutely perfect.”  When she pulled away, she saw tears in his eyes.  Their relationship was rocky, no doubt about that, but she knew her father loved her about as much as she did him.  And this really was a perfect car.