Page 101 of I Heart Mason Cartwright
Mason
I bought a Jeep.I didn’t plan it, it just happened. I was on my way back to the motel on my motorcycle and I passed a used car lot. There right in front was a Wrangler, low mileage, only a couple years old, and for a great price. Brought my motorcycle back to my mom’s garage, jogged back to the lot, paid cash, drove my new baby home.
It occurred to me, as I was passing the lot, that I didn’t have a car to take Willow out in. I didn’t know how she would feel about a motorcycle. The forecast calls for rain anyway, so, here I am.
Now you just need a house with a picket fence so you can pump out babies, you soft pussy motherfucker.
Being courteous does not make me a soft pussy motherfucker.
Buying a car just for a date does. Two words. Beyond courteous.
I needed one anyway.
Yeah, just keep telling yourself that.
By the time I’m back at the motel with the Jeep, I’ve got about two hours before I’m due to pick up Willow. I grab a shower, shave, and find some clean slacks and a not-so-wrinkled button-down shirt. Splash of aftershave, and I’m ready to go.
It’s only been twenty-five minutes.
If I leave now, I’ll arrive way too early to get her. So I head out to my mom’s to show her my car.
It’s a short drive, all surface streets. I can hear the big tread of the tires on the asphalt. She lives in the center of downtown, an area where foot traffic is at an all-time high. My inner environmentalist loves that I live in a place that promotes public transit, bicycling, and walking.
I laugh that I think of that on the same day that I bought a car I didn’t absolutely need. Sidewalks filled with people, sidestreets filled with cars, buildings of all shapes and sizes. I’m lucky my mom has enough allotted space in the underground garage for both an extra car and my bike.
I’m also lucky we bought it when we did. It was expensive at the time, but the value has almost tripled since then, Mom could almost retire on what it’s worth now. I call her as I approach the building to let her know I’m coming. She’s waiting in the garage when I park.
“I can’t believe you bought a Jeep,” my mom says. “Who are you and what have you done with my perpetually nomadic son?”
“It was time. Plus, it’s useful for hauling tools to jobsites.”
“And not much else. It’s sort of small.”
“Bigger than the bike.”
“True, and I do like that you won’t be riding the bike in the rain.”
“I didn’t say that.” I smile. She sighs.
“Maybe you’ll find a place to settle down in next,” she says.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Mom. It’s just a car.”
“I won’t. Do you want to stay for dinner? I’ve got a pot roast cooking.”
“I would but I have a date.”
“That’s why you’re all dressed up, I was wondering.”
I blush a tiny bit at that. “It’s just pants and a shirt, Mom.”
“Is this a new girl you’re taking out?”
“Uh, no. Err, yes?”
She laughs. “Which is it?”
“I’m taking Willow to dinner.”
