In the Showroom

My husband and I follow the salesman to his office, admiring the gleaming sports cars in the showroom. He sits at his desk and we opposite him. He turns on his computer, and my husband glances at a little yellow number through the glass walls. Its rims sparkle in the sunshine.

“So, we’re looking at a twelve-passenger van today?” the salesman says, scrolling through the results on his screen.

We chuckle, sort of, and say yes. He nods seriously, perhaps not daring to laugh along with us. He prints out the model—there is only one—and sets the pages in front of us. We discuss the highlights of the vehicle—its seating—and its safety features—its size. We work through the literature and on the third page are a school bus and an ambulance parked artfully at the bottom.

“So, I won’t need a commercial driver’s license, right?” I ask and laugh, sort of. He assures me that I do not, as they often are sold to school districts to transport kids for field trips. The cargo vans, he adds, have been very popular with businesses this past year.

He turns to his computer again to see if there are any vans nearby for us to test drive and my husband reminds me that what he really wants is a motorcycle.

As he laughs, I admire his lovely blue eyes and think for a moment about our nine years of marriage and five children, a beautiful life that’s resulted in one heck of an ugly car.

I pick up a picture of the hulking van. “It looks great,” I say.

Copyright 2016 Meg Matenaer
“CORVETTE 1961-STEERING WHEEL2” by DodgertonSkillhause (2015) via Morguefile


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