Two Kisses for Maddy_ A Memoir of Loss & Love - Matthew Logelin [85]
When I told Candee and Tom that somebody wanted to buy the car, I spun it like it was a terrible idea, like there was no way I would sell it—no reason to.
“Really?” said Tom. “What else are you going to do with it? Are you going to drive it?”
“No,” I said.
“Wouldn’t it help pay for your new car?” asked Candee. “That you need for Maddy?”
“Well, yes,” I said. But I didn’t know if I could really do it. Fuck, I thought. Maybe I should keep it for Madeline or something, so that she can drive her mom’s car when she’s finally old enough to get her driver’s license. When I said this out loud, the suggestion was met with uproarious laughter.
Well, okay then. As much as I wanted to hang on to this relic of Liz’s, I knew that the car was not serving much purpose beyond acting as a scenic obstruction to my front yard. I’d only used it back in July when my car was in the shop.
That had been fucking awful.
Maddy and I were on our way back from a playgroup and were driving down the freeway when someone smashed into us, causing my car to completely spin out. We wound up facing forward, and luckily we weren’t hit by any oncoming traffic. The other driver sped off. My car was a mess, but we were okay, and I called the cops so I could obtain a police report for insurance purposes.
When they came, one of them said, “Why didn’t you follow the woman who hit you?”
“Excuse me?”
The officer repeated her question, and I just couldn’t believe it. With a baby in my back seat? Who am I, Steve McQueen? Admittedly, a few years prior, I would have done exactly that—stepped on the gas and chased that fucker down. But now, my kid’s safety was more important than being a vigilante.
After I dropped off my beat-up sedan for repair a few days later, I decided to walk back to the house with Maddy. It was close enough and no one was around to give us a ride. I didn’t think it was worth getting a rental car, since I didn’t really need to leave the house. Besides, Liz’s car was sitting out front in case I did.
The first time I drove it was to Casita del Campo for dinner and a drink with friends; Madeline was set to spend the evening with Anya. I managed to ignore the familiar feeling of sitting in the car until I dropped Maddy off, but when I pulled away I could not help but freak out. It was just so fucking weird to be alone in Liz’s car. She and I had made so many memories in the ugly piece of shit. They raced through my head, each bringing my heart up to my throat in a fresh way.
This was the car Liz’s uncle had shipped out to LA from Minneapolis when she finished college. We rode in it nearly every weekend to Runyon Canyon to hike. It had taken us to that party in Hermosa Beach where she met my oldest friend, Alex, and she had dragged me in it to that horrifying Jessica Simpson concert at Universal Amphitheater. She brought this car to Dr. Nelson’s office to get the ultrasound that confirmed she was pregnant. Liz had driven this roller skate for seven years. She’d even named it “the Little Zipper.” What a stupid-ass name.
Being in the car now was making me crazy. It was the first time I’d been in the driver’s seat since before Liz died, and there were physical reminders of her everywhere. Her fine blonde hairs were still on the cloth upholstery, and her favorite Top 40 stations were still programmed on the radio. It hit me hard that she had sat in this seat, used this seat belt, looked in these mirrors, operated this gearshift, and pressed her small feet against this brake and this accelerator. In the house, I had finally acclimated to our stuff so that I no longer thought She used this apple corer every time I wanted to cut up a piece of fruit. But here, it was impossible not to pay attention because it was all around me. I was literally inside of it.
When I was adjusting Maddy’s car seat, I saw an opened