Second Chance

Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The Chevrolet Monza Spyder was a gift, a 16th birthday present, from his father. After Nathan Vaughn purchased the car, he allowed his friends racecar driver and mechanic friends to look it over, to work on it. They only needed to tune the engine. For the bodyworks, they fixed one rust patch but added a larger spoiler and front air dam. They gave the car new red paint and a larger spider on the hood.

As he sat at a red light, Micah Vaughn smiled and thought of how Antoinette De Fiore was going to be surprised: she didn’t know he had his license. Though he received the car in 1980, he never drove it. His mother Johanna thought he was much too young and immature to be careful. She worried that he would race it around the city; race it on summer Friday nights on the section of the Crosstown nicknamed “The NEBA Nationals.” When he received his license in August of 1980, just before he began soccer practice, he was limited to driving the family station wagon, his mother’s 1973 Chevelle, or his father’s 1973 Monte Carlo, that is if he made plans for one to be available.

Antoinette knew of the car, but she also knew of his restrictions. Yesterday, he remembered with great fondness, was when both parents told him the car was his to drive unlimited. He didn’t know how she would react when he pulled up in it. He didn’t know if she was going to be outside when he arrived. The light turned green and he slowly pulled away.

“Sweet ride,” the tollbooth worker said as Micah pulled up and received the ticket. The words gave the teen a warm feeling, one he thought all muscle car owners had when others gave positive words on their rides. He had a momentary thought of pulling out quickly, seeing if he could light up the rear wheels, but it fleeted away. He saw the state police patrol car to his right.

“That was a smart move,” the Presence chirped in.

Micah was upset. I thought I asked you to leave me alone.

“I did. I wanted to congratulate you on the smart move back there.”

He drove the car around the entrance ramp at the suggested speed and looked to merge. Why did you do that? Do you know something? He accelerated to 45 quickly and moved into the right lane. A Buick moved into the middle lane to allow Micah to merge.

“I’ve already said things I shouldn’t have.”

Micah felt something different about the Presence. In the morning, he felt confusion and anger from it, as if he or it was mad at being in his mind or soul. He felt it didn’t want to be there. As the day went on, that anger seemed to have subsided, to the point now the Presence is a calming influence.

The teenager took a stab in the dark, tried to catch the Presence at a vulnerable time. Should I know who you are?

“Nice try, Micah.”

He thought he could feel the Presence laughing. At least I tried. Will you ever tell me who or what you are?

“I might. For now, don’t ask me. I won’t be giving you an answer.”

Micah turned on the radio, to help him tune out the Voice and concentrate on driving. The music would also help him mentally ready himself for what was to come.

As Micah drove past the I-90/I-87/Exit 24 interchange, the Presence spoke, “You might want to slow down.”

Micah wanted to ask the reason why, but looked down at the speedometer. He was doing close to 90. He slowed down to 55 by the time he saw the two state trooper cars waiting in the median, waiting to catch speeders.

Thanks.

“You’re welcome.”

Micah shook his head and pulled off onto Exit 23, slowing to make the sharp left-hand turn at the beginning. He was in luck: only two cars were in front of him as he waited to pay the 30-cent toll. He didn’t have to reach far for the money: one of his sisters knew to leave a nickel and quarter in the ashtray.

“That is some sweet car you have kid,” the tollbooth operator mentioned. “How much did it cost you?”

“I don’t know. It was a present from my father.”

“Nice dad.” Micah nodded and pulled through the booth. He paid close attention to the road, since the exit he needed was a hairpin, a quick turn to the left. If he weren’t careful, he would miss it.

Micah arrived at her house, a single family, two-story home, and parked on the street, behind a limousine. It was once her grandparents, immigrants from Italy, who purchased the home just before World War II. With the passing of her grandmother a year ago, Antoinette’s family moved in. He liked this home more than the previous one. Both had similar floor space and bedrooms, this one offered her more privacy. Her bedroom was larger and had its own bathroom.

He looked at the house before closing his eyes. Do you have any words of encouragement for me before I go in?

The Presence usually answered questions quickly. There were no words coming forth. Micah sighed and opened the door. “Be good to her,” it finally said as the teen reached in and gathered the bouquet box.

I will be, Micah answered.

“Don’t you look handsome?” a woman said from a neighboring porch. He smiled and thanked her.

“Toni’s going to be so surprised,” someone else spoke, a young female voice.

“Micah,” a familiar voice started. “Come on in.” It was her father, Giorgio. The man, older than his own, had always been friendly to Micah, even when they first met. Mr. De Fiore told Micah that he trusted him, knew that he would never hurt his only daughter, and was good for her.

“She’s waiting for you,” Mr. De Fiore said, holding out his hand. Micah wiped off the nervous sweat before accepting it.

The older man laughed. “She’s nervous, too.” He patted the younger man on the back and led him inside.

There was an audible gasp, from both Antoinette and Micah.

“You look absolutely beautiful,” he said.

“You look so handsome,” Antoinette added.

He knew there were others in the living room, but he didn’t care. All he do was look at her, look at how more beautiful she looked. He stared into her eyes and lost himself for a moment.

She looked into his and was speechless. She was breathing heavily. She was nervous earlier, wondering if he would find her gown to his liking. Right now, she didn’t care. He was there. He was looking at her, starting at her. Antoinette felt like she was the only woman in his life, he made her feel that special with that few words.

“Excuse me you two,” her mother finally interjected. The teens shook and laughed. They realized they were staring at each other.

“Sorry mom,” Antoinette said.

“Are you going to introduce Micah to your friends?” Margaret asked.

“Yes,” the teen said. She moved and took his hand.

“Oh, this is for you,” he said, remembering that he had a box.

“Thank you.” She opened it and removed the bouquet, the flowers and ribbon matching her gown perfectly. “Oh my God, it’s perfect.” She brought the flowers to her nose and inhaled.

“How did you know what to get me?” she asked, wrapping her arms around his body. She squeezed tightly.

“I had something to do with it,” Mrs. De Fiore confessed. “His sister Ewa called and asked what your favorite flowers were and what color was your gown. When I told her of the color, she came and met me, where I gave her a swatch.”

Antoinette looked at her escort and smiled. “Your sister didn’t think you could pick out the right flowers?”

“It’s not that,” he said. “She was afraid I would get you a wrist corsage and spend too much money.”

She shook her head. “She knows you,” she joked. Micah could only nod in agreement.

“Hello Micah,” a female voice said. He turned to the source and saw Dianne Fitzsimmons, Antoinette’s best friend. She was wearing an off-the-shoulder dark pink, short length gown, a purple orchid corsage on her left wrist. In sneakers, Dianne stood a few inches taller than Antoinette did, but this evening, she was much more. Micah noticed than she was wearing larger heels than Antoinette was. He also noticed that her friend was showing more skin than his girlfriend was.

With Antoinette not releasing him, Micah spoke. “Hello Dianne.”

“This is my date Jimmy.”

The teen extended his hand. “Jimmy Harrison,” he added. The two shook.

Antoinette pulled him and faced him to another couple. “You remember Terri?”

“Yes I do.” He met Terri Caldwell at a New Year’s party the first year he and Antoinette were together. Micah extended his hand; her date took it.

“I’m Cam Drummond.”

“It’s so good to meet you all.” Micah smiled. His heart was pounding, his breathing was labored, but it was Antoinette’s fault, and in a good way.

He looked at her again and didn’t have to imagine her looking any lovelier than she was now. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. He heard several in the room comment with an “Aw.”

“Toni, take Micah to the dining room,” her mother began. “It’s picture time.” Micah thought he would hear her complain, but was pleasantly shocked when she silently escorted him.

There were changes to the room, since the last time he visited. The dining table was gone, as were the chairs and two small cabinets. She put him in front of the picture window, the closed honey-colored drapes making an excellent backdrop.

“You two look perfect,” Dianne commented.

“Yes they do,” Terri agreed.