Out Motoring

Last Sunday, Indiana tasted its initial nip of cool weather. It had been raining so the first leaves dusted the driveway.

“Let’s drive the Lotus to church. What do you say?” was the question.

The Lotus is the fun little car that Mike restored. Operative term is ‘little.’ Its frame clears the ground by a mere 6 inches. The side measures about 20 inches from the ground to the windows.
If it had windows.

It also does not have any doors. Or a top.

Or a heater.

But it is such a bright red toy, and Mike loves to motor about with its right-sided steering wheel. And, these days, I’m game for much.

“Sure,” said I.

I ran back into the bedroom for a quick wardrobe change. Off with the skirt and heels. On with the jeans and sneakers.

And the hoodie.

My new hoodie proclaims that I am, in fact, still a Wildkat, a Kokomo High School athletic fan. WILDKAT is printed in bold blue letters across a bright red sweatshirt. So I match the car, you see.

I ran back out to the car. Perhaps he was expecting a be-tweeded partner, leather racing gloves pulled on and a white neck scarf to wave in the wind?

He screwed up his face a bit as I maneuvered my right leg up and over; bracing with that foot, I lifted the other foot up and over. Then, feet together, I S-L-I-D in and down. After fastening the seat belt, I pulled the hood up and over my head and tied it tightly under my chin.

“Ready,” I announced.

All smiles. Yes, it was cool outside. Cold, actually. And a bit damp. But I was snuggie in my Red and Blue cocoon.

We motored through our neighborhood and onto our destination. The entry to our church offers a long, curvy road. Curve to the left. Curve to the right. Curve to the left again. Curves are much fun in this little British auto.

He pulled up at the main door. Several friends were outside to greet guests.
“Do you need a hand?” one asked. No, I did not. I reversed my entry routine, stood up straight, stretched out and then walked into the building.

When I removed my hood, several other friends remarked on my ‘wind blown’ hair do.
Mike parked the Lotus. When he joined me in the foyer, he said, “I’m glad you took that hood off. You looked kinda dorky.”

It was MY turn to screw up my face. We walked in and found our seats.

Right in front of us was a young couple, newly married. They had NOT had a good drive in that morning, if you know what I mean.

During ‘greet your neighbor’ time, we nodded and shook hands and all. Their smiles froze and then ended before they turned back around.

Of course, I do not know what this morning tiff was about. And I’m confident that before evening, they will have worked it out. When couples are committed to each other for life, you solve those many disagreements, with compromises and concessions.

(I hope she gets a little gift out of this. That usually salves the wound.)

Although the speaker’s message was good, my mind wandered for a bit to another young couple who sometimes sat in church with a chill between them.

Who knew what adventures lay ahead of them, him the law student and her, the beginning teacher? Would he have called me ‘dorky’ back then? Perhaps. Would I have laughed at it? Probably not at the beginning. It takes some time to get the marriage rhythm right.

Now? We laugh a lot.

Most of the time.

Ps. Update – this Sunday, we tried it again. The skies were bright blue and cloudless and the temperature, as several banks’ signs told us, was 46 degrees. I donned some tweed.