Page 77 of Power Move
Davey poked his head in. “Eva, this thing is tiny.”
“It’s cute. It’s efficient,” I said.
“It’s not big enough.”
“Your car is the size of a pin,” I said.
“And it’s not a minivan replacement, Eva.”
“There ya are!” Dad walked to hug me.
“I’m here,” I agreed.
Davey came around the car for the world’s mostawkwardintroduction. I silently hoped our salesman wouldn’t run away screaming and suspected that Davey had “cash offer” written all over. If he wasn’t born yesterday, he knew this was a slam dunk.
“Dad, this is David. David, this is my dad, Robert.”
“Hello, Mr. Pavlak,” Davey said. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
Dad looked Davey over, sizing him up. I waited with bated breath to see how this played out.
Dad extended his hand. “Well, it is good to meet you, although you’ll have to give me a minute. I’m… still very confused.”
“It is odd, yes,” Davey blushed, shaking his hand. “But we agree on one thing—that Eva needs a proper car. Can you please talk her out of electric?”
“Eva, please,” Dad groaned.
“In London, we owned an electric car. I want another,” I confirmed.
“At the very least, can you tell her this car is too damn small, Bert?”
Dad burst into laughter. “Sweetheart, where will you put two car seats?”
The sales guy said, “Are they forward-facing? Rear-facing? This can be a great car for people with one rear-facing in the middle and a sibling forward-facing next to it.”
“Two rear-facing,” Davey said. “Twins.”
“Oh, you’re…” The salesman pointed at me and did a double-take. “Well, congratulations.”
I choked a tiny, “Thanks.”
“Okay, well, I’d recommend the EX90 with six seats—the captain’s chairs are great with two car seats.”
We followed him around the corner to amuchlarger vehicle.
“See, this is nice,” Davey declared.
“Davey, it’s like twice the size. It’s giving soccer mom.”
“Well, they might play soccer,” Davey said. “I did.”
“Not the point.”
“Eva, just take it for a spin.”
“It can’t hurt to drive it.” Dad shrugged. “It looks very safe.”
I gave in. We took it for a spin, and I grudgingly admitted it was more fun to drive than a beat-up old truck. Within a couple hours of my negotiations, Davey handed off his credit card and walked through the sale’s final steps. He’d pay for it. I’d insure it and pay the obscene taxes.
