an unexpected visitor

an unexpected visitor

Responding to the gentle knock at the door,I slowly opened it with trepidation. Before me stood a man who was Rob Lowe handsome with a furrowed brow and frowning blue eyes. He was casual chic in jeans and a leather jacket and was of few words but wanted to take me for a spin in his new car. It was awkward and he was more focused on expressing his pride in the car than having any dialogue. I was mesmerized by his chiseled profile in the shadows of the early evening rainy night.

It was the first time I had ever heard anyone be so passionate about the kind of car they were driving. He seemed to say the word Porche with frequency as if he were trying to indoctrinate me with the uniqueness of his car. I gave him my strictest concentration hoping that he would approve of the way I listened furtively to his words of deep affection for his Porche.

It WAS a beautiful car and he repeated that it was a classic but that had little reference for me.The Porche was metalic royal blue with black leather seats and I was distracted by the hypnotizing smell of the leather. The streets were slick from the rain and he asked me if I would like for him to "spin the car out". Of course I nodded yes, because that was something I could sense that he wanted. He was so mesmerizingly handsome I was just hoping he would want me in his company more often.His foot hit the gas pedal and then slammed the brakes spinning the car out in the middle of the empty intersection. My heart was in my throat but I never would have revealed that I was petrified and quivering like some little captured bird.

He performed this maneuver two more times and my stomach was sick with fear. It was the first time I had seen him smile for he was genuinely excited about the way his Porche performed.I pretended to appreciate the "spin outs" and wondered what else was in store. Certainly what he did with his car was safe, and certainly he would take care of me if I cut "the grade".

The beautiful movie star handsome man careening up and down the streets on that rainy night with the five year old by his side was my father, and he had returned from France and wanted to see me. With a tight throat and a lump of feelings in my chest I forced a happy fare well, hoping I had passed his test and that he would want to SEE me again.