Because, as Thelma discovered, she still desired to straddle that line between putting in effort and acting like she didn’t actually care at all. Wasn’t she supposed to be naturally beautiful to anyone she went out with?Or am I thinking about dating men?Bill had been so ridiculously easy to please in the beauty department, but she and Sandy used to stay up late in college judging other girls’ outfits.The gossip was terrible…Thelma laughed to think back on it now.
A pair of high-waisted pants and a canary yellow sleeveless blouse was only complete with her signature red lipstick and a matching red ribbon in her hair. She tucked her freshly curled hair behind her ears and tied the ribbon around her crown, grinning at herself. While she had gained a few pounds on modern food, she still fit into her favorite style.
After slipping into the heels she had traveled in, she grabbed her green purse and hurried downstairs, almost tripping over Fiddles as he ambled from one upstairs room to another.
There was a part of her that assumed Gretchen might have forgotten their plans or otherwise didn’t care to follow through. Yet when Thelma finished locking up the house after leaving a note on the kitchen table, she was pleasantly surprised—and twitterpated, as an old Disney favorite reminded her—when she saw Gretchen standing in her front yard.
“How’s your cat?” Thelma asked from the other side of the fence. “Because ours almost tried to kill me on the way down the stairs.”
Gretchen stood up from inspecting her bushes and let out a low whistle when she saw Thelma’s full get-up through the gate. “Damn. I way underdressed today.”
“No!” Already, Thelma had an eyeful of a nice shirt beneath a pleasing black jacket and jeans. “I just like dressing up. So!” She burst through the gate, catching Gretchen’s attention as she did that in heels. “What do you have planned for us today?”
When Thelma dropped by Friday afternoon to ask if they were still going out, she asked Gretchen what they should do, and her date insisted on,“I’ll surprise you.”Which worked for Thelma, because aside from a walk on the Santa Monica Pier, she was out of ideas.
“I’ve got a few things up my sleeve.” Gretchen motioned to her work truck parked in the driveway. “Your Ford chariot awaits, my lady.”
“Oooh.” Clutching her purse in her hand, Thelma hustled to the other side of the truck, where Gretchen met her and opened the passenger side door. “I’ve been wondering what the world looks like from up there.”
She took Gretchen’s hand and heaved herself up into the beastly automobile, where she hooted in excitement.I can seeinto her second-floor windows!Thelma had to keep from biting her lip so she wouldn’t leave lipstick on her teeth. She checked her hair and makeup in the rearview mirror and sat back with her seatbelt on before Gretchen got in on the other side.
“You use this truck for work?” Thelma asked.
“Yup. Although we’re between jobs right now. That’s why it’s relatively clean.”
“It’s lovely.” Thelma let out a softooohwhen the engine started. “At least tell us what area we’re going to. There’s still so much of the area I haven’t seen yet.”
“Nope. It’s all a surprise.”
Thelma didn’t want to admit it, but she was utterly delighted when Gretchen turned the radio to the “classic rock” station, and she was treated to ‘80s arena rock, a genre she had only recently become acquainted with because it had played at one of the get-togethers for the other time travelers.I don’t really know who Bruce Springsteen or Michael Jackson are yet, but they made very good music!Personally, she couldn’t wait to get to the ‘80s in her history lessons. Already, that decade seemed much more interesting than the ‘70s.
“Do you like Bon Jovi?” Gretchen asked as she pulled out into the street.
“I have no idea! Do I?”
Gretchen turned up the radio. “You do now.”
She probably had no idea why Thelma was so delighted as they cruised down the street, stopped at an intersection, and pulled onto Burbank Boulevard, where they could drive faster.Not so much traffic today!Thelma pushed the button that “rolled” down her window and laughed into the noise of passing cars and the lives of the millions of Angelenos around her. She didn’t care if her curls came undone or were messed up by the wind. Gretchen had seen her full put-together look already!
Some things are more important.Like forgetting where she was. What had happened. Why she should give a flying damn.
They cruised forever. They slowed down every time Thelma began to get into the groove. Music pumped through the cabin of the truck. Air conditioning blasted her on the face. Other cars honked, and some people yelled from the crosswalks. Buses ambled along, and people spun signs on the sidewalks. Thelma counted the shops, the signs in Spanish, and all of the new apartment construction that still made her eyes grow in awe after three months in the “future.”
She kept her observations about modernity to herself. She didn’t know where they were going, and for once, that was wonderful.
Eventually, they made it to Ventura Boulevard as it wound through Studio City. Thelma settled in and enjoyed the view as Gretchen turned down the music, rolled up their windows, and entered a parking lot that happened to haveonespot available on a Saturday afternoon. The sign behind the concrete stopper said,“For Customers of Very Vintage ONLY.”
“There’s a word I hear a lot,” Thelma said as soon as the engine shut off. “What does ‘rad’ mean?”
“Uh…” Once again, she had Gretchen flummoxed.At least she’s cute when I’ve confused her.“I think it’s short for ‘radical.’”
“It’s a good thing?”
“You know. Like neat. Or cool.”
At least I know those.“That was rad.”
Gretchen unsnapped her seatbelt. “What was?”
