The Convertible - Another Road

Officer Ochoa's eyebrows raised up again. I expected to get chewed out and told to mind my own damn business, but instead she smiled. "That's a 1957 TR3, and the driver is my Dad. That was taken in 2009, at a classic car event over at the Thunderbolt Raceway in Millville. It was his last race before he had his stroke; it paralyzed his left side, so he couldn't drive any more. He really loved that car, but we had to sell it to pay his medical expenses. It breaks my heart because every time I visit him in the convalescent home, he asks me to drive him somewhere in his car. I can't bring myself to tell him we sold it."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said, "my brother is a master mechanic. He loves those classic cars."

Shaking the officer's hand and thanking her, Arianna and I left, filled with hope. Now only time would tell.

++++++++++

2 months later

Our flight reservations made, Arianna and I left an hour earlier than necessary on the way to LaGuardia; we needed to make an important stop at the Hudson County Probation Department. I had called ahead to make sure Officer Ochoa was at her desk. Walking up to her cube, I knocked on the cube wall frame. She looked up, surprised to see me.

"You again, Mr. Leopold? Is there a problem?"

I held one hand up, palm facing her. "No, quite the contrary. Arianna and I are just now on the way to the airport. Before we left, I wanted to stop by and make you an offer. Do you happen to have $40 on you?"

Officer Ochoa smiled, took two $20 bills out of her wallet and pushed them across the desk towards me. "Okay, what am I buying?

I picked the bills up and put them in my pocket. "This." I pushed an 8 ½" by 11" brown envelope across her desk. Cautiously, she opened it and tipped the contents out. The keys to the TR2 clanked onto the desktop, the car's title and a business card sliding out and landing on top.

"What is this?"

"You just bought my 1955 TR2, fully-restored by my brother. It's on a car transport right now from California; you just need to call the number on that business card and give them a delivery address, otherwise it will be delivered out front and your coworkers might get really jealous."

As reality sank in, Officer Ochoa looked stunned; if she hadn't been seated, I'm afraid she would have fallen over. "I...I don't know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything, Officer Ochoa. Think of it as karma. Arianna and I owe you more than we can repay, believe me. I have to say, I believe that little car is charmed. It brought my brother and his wife together, and since I've owned it, Arianna and I found each other. I hope it brings you the same good fortune as it did to my brother and me. Heck, at the very least, now you can take your father out for a ride when you go visit him."

++++++++++

We buckled our seatbelts to prepare for takeoff; The sunlight coming in through the aircraft window made Arianna's engagement ring sparkle. I leaned over, kissed her, and patted her stomach. "I want to get married at City Hall as soon as we can. When we get home, I'll see if I can get an appointment booked next week."

"We've got time, it's only been 9 weeks, I'm not going to start showing for another 3. Besides, my mom was 6 months pregnant when she and Joel got married!"

"It's not about the baby, it's about me just wanting to be married to you as soon as I can." I took Arianna's hand and kissed it.

EPILOGUE:

Since coming back home, Charlotte and Arianna have become so close it's difficult not to think of them as sisters rather than mother and daughter. Although Rob's still tightly on Tammy's leash, he does a videoconference with Arianna once a month to see how his daughter and granddaughter are doing. He emails pictures of his son Robert Jr. to us; given that Charlotte once begged Robert for another baby but was refused, we don't share those with Charlotte, to protect her from any bad memories.

Junior is the same age as Gabriela, but almost twice her size; he's huge, around 28 pounds, and has just started walking so Robert and Tammy have their hands full. Or rather, Robert has his hands full; I get the impression Tammy prefers Rob deal with their son and also wait on her, as opposed to her actually parenting her child.

Not long after we were married, Arianna and I decided to sell the condo in Menlo Park and move to the Willow Glen area of San Jose, about a block from Joel and Charlotte's house; that way our newborn daughter Skye could grow up close to her cousins Gabriela, now 17 months old, and 2-month-old Isabelle.

The TR2 was a ton of fun but it was never a family car, so I don't miss it. With a baby on the way, though, it was time to bid farewell to my reliable Toyota junker. Joel being Joel, he tried to talk me into a BMW M5 Touring wagon but seriously, who needs to go 205mph on the way to 'Romp & Roll' infant gymnastics? After further debate he relented, fixing me up instead with a restored and tuned 1996 Buick Roadmaster Estate Wagon, the one with the Corvette 5.7-liter LT1 V8.

I got an email recently from Officer Ochoa, with a couple of photos attached. One was her with her dad sitting in the TR2; both were grinning like floss salesmen at a dental convention. The other image was of her and a handsome guy who looked like a 30-something version of Eric Estrada. They were each leaning on a front fender of the Triumph; the caption below it just said, 'Me and Alejandro, mi nuevo amor!'- looks like the TR2's charm might be at work again...