“Okay.” Maggie thought about what the guidance counselor had said, about the Poetry Club being the Island of Misfit Toys. “You know, thosePhrasesgirls seem nice, but it’s good to keep an open mind to different sorts of people. I saw a lot of nice-looking kids in the cafeteria.”
“Okay, but can we talk about the car? So, they come standard with all these driving aids, like the command driving position…” Anna yammered all the way to the dealership, marked by a silvery sign and man-made hillock topped by a new Land Rover, demonstrating off-road capabilities that no high-school junior would ever need.
“We’re just having fun, remember?” Maggie pulled in and turned to Anna, but she was already climbing out of the car.
“Sure, I texted the guy.”
“What?” Maggie grabbed her purse hastily and got out of the car to see Anna waving to a young African-American man in a green polo shirt and khaki pants.
“Hey, Simon!” Anna called out to him.
“Perfect timing!” Simon called back to Anna, shaking her hand as Maggie arrived.
“I’m Maggie Ippoliti, Anna’s mother.” Maggie shook Simon’s hand.
“Great to meet you.” Simon held up a clunky ignition key. “Ready to go? I’d be happy to take you guys out. Maggie, I’d rather you drove since Anna doesn’t have a valid PA license and she’s a minor.”
“Let’s go!” Anna said, excitedly.
Maggie hesitated. “Simon, that won’t be necessary. We wouldn’t want to take your time.”
“Nah, it’s fine. Follow me.” Simon handed Maggie the key and led them to a glistening black Range Rover parked at the head of the line. “This is the Range Rover Sport HSE, in Narvik black.”
Anna clapped. “Beautiful!”
“Very nice.” Maggie glanced at the sticker, and the bottom line was $75,000.
“Everybody into the pool.” Simon climbed in the backseat, Anna took the passenger seat, and Maggie hoisted herself into the driver’s seat. The car interior was a buttery-tan leather with perforated seats, a black cockpit with large dials, and matte-silver trim.
Anna ran a finger on the dashboard. “This feels soooo good.”
Simon poked his head between the front seats. “Take a look at the simplicity of the cabin. Those are quality finishes. Of course, the airbags are behind there too, but you’d never know it.”
Maggie plunged the thick key into the ignition, nervously. She hadn’t expected to test-drive anything, much less a house on wheels.
“The Range Rover has a four-by-four capability but the ride is very smooth, truly a luxury ride. Now Maggie, reverse out. You’ve got room.”
“What if I hit something?”
“You won’t. The big windows make for great safety and visibility. Check the camera.”
Anna touched her arm. “You got this, Mom. No fear.”
Mom. “No fear,” Maggie repeated. She steered the big car out of the lot and turned cautiously into traffic on Lancaster Avenue.
Simon gestured. “Go up two blocks. Take a right. Then we’ll be on the back roads.”
Maggie’s fingers gripped the wheel. “Got it. Are we having fun yet?”
“Totally!” Anna bounced. “This is the cushiest seat ever!”
“It sure is,” Simon said, from the backseat. “You can go anywhere you want to and have total comfort every step of the way.”
“And it’s safe,” Anna added.
“Correct,” Simon said, as if cued. “I know a lot of parents worry about safety. There are distracted drivers everywhere. People texting. Eating in their cars. Reading Facebook.”
“You’re making me more nervous,” Maggie interjected, steering the big car.
