On old McFadden and Whitehead song was playing softly in the dark interior striving against the constant noises generated by the running engine and the hissing of the heat as it coursed through the vents and spiraled into the car.
The inhabitant barely seemed to notice. Fingers locked onto the steering wheel, green eyes stared past the rain drops and the steady blades that swished and swooshed as they performed their tasks. The steady sound of the car could have been, should have been soothing to the young woman behind the wheel of the little pink Volkswagen bug.
But her eyes stared locked on the road ahead, her foot pressed hard against the brake...staring at the road beyond the familiar gravel driveway, a road she had driven many times but which had never looked so foreboding. The radio continued to hum its words of encouragement of perseverance and overcoming- She jabbed it silent with a brutal stab of her finger, barely glancing down.
The confusion swarming in her stomach threatened to crawl into her throat. The rain pounded its melody into her roof but her eyes stared past it- past the horizon and to the home that she had left. She hadn't looked back, hadn't been able to face knowing she had made the wrong decision, admit the frustration and mistakes that surrounded her every time she opened her eyes.
Headlights passed by and just as quickly the car disappeared away. Her eyes flickered to the tail lights that were disappearing into the darkness, the rain falling down into a curtain, separating her from them.
---
"Punch-buggy Pink!" Elliot exclaimed, punching the driver in the arm and raising his arms in victory.
"How the hell did you see a pink beetle in this?" Miranda asked in disbelief, craning her neck to glance around the passenger side.
"Easy," Elliot replied, leaning back. "I'm just that talented."
"How come you always play this stupid game but won't let me call jinxes?" Miranda asked, irritation coloring her voice as she turned back towards the road.
"Because jinxes are like cracks in the sidewalk- they bring nothing but negative recprucssions, who wants to play a game where they might have to go days without speaking or break someone's back?" Elliot toyed with the radio which was currently blasting some old rock n roll song.
"Elliot! Get your hands off my radio! You want to be the only guy in nursing school with nine fingers, just keep that up." Miranda flipped on her turn signal and began to turn into the side street which would take them back to her apartment. She had promised spaghetti tonight and Elliot was hoping he could talk her into watching the football game. As he glanced up, the red light caught his eye just as he felt Miranda turn the wheel into the turn.
"Red light!" He cried out and saw the headlights of the oncoming car just as heard the angry squeal of the tires as Miranda punched her foot down on the brake.
----
"Idiots!" Grant fumed, his eyes flickering to his rearview mirror where the SUV was sitting, half in the middle of the street, the brake lights bright red and the driver apparently trying to decide what to do next. The fools had almost run the red light and he had been going too fast to have been able to avoid them.
His eyes flickered down to the clock which glowed green: 6:49.
Fuck. He was late. Of course, he would have gotten stuck in the office with personnel reviews due but Allen and Ellen would never forgive him if he missed his own godson's birthday party. Course he hadn't really asked for his college roommate to make him godson but people were weird. It wasn't like Grant had meant for his one night stand from the fraternity formal to go to breakfast with his quiet roommate and end up marrying him. He had thought it had been nice enough to be invited to the wedding- he really hadn't expected them to ask him to be godfather of their first kid!
But with Allen's business trips and Ellen's illness, Grant had been the one who ended up having to take care of the little diaper rag. He had said no, cited business meetings and social networking events but somehow he had become a surrogate part of the family- taking Jay to football games, enrolling him in little league, and teaching him how to curse in different languages.
The cell phone beeped next to him, an email. Probably was a rescheduled meeting or an urgent situation that required him to turn around and go right back into the office. But Grant just kept driving, the rain sliding down his convertible as he sliced through it. Allen had told him that Ellen wasn't doing very well, that the doctors said she might have a few more months but not a year.
So, he wanted to make it to this birthday party, wanted to see Jay happy with his mother and be there for the family that had taken him in against his will. And as he drove down the famiiar street from his office to the suburb where the Hosell's lived, Grant barely noticed the headlights on the side of the road until he was driving past them and the light filled his car.
He glanced behind him as he drove on, seeing what looked to be a pink car sitting in a driveway. He shook his head as he continued, who painted their cars pink?
---
Time to go, she decided as another car passed her. The clock on the dashboard was fast but she knew it was time. She was going to go home, return to her world and face the consequences of what she had left behind.
And maybe, she hoped, to be forgiven.
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