Page 45 of Safer Alone
He nods. “Sounds good to me. I better let you get ready. You look stunning in that nightgown by the way”. He is blushing as he says that. “I’ll leave you be for a while. I’ll come back in an hour and we can head off. Sound good?” He offers.
“Ah thanks. An hour will be good”
Before leaving he leans in and presses his delectable, soft lips against my own. Just as I start to open my mouth he pulls away. “See you soon beautiful.” He turns on his heels and walks out the door. And all I can do is look after him.
~ Chapter Twenty- Four ~
Elliot was back in no time. Luckily, I had showered shortly after he had left, giving myself plenty of time to get dressed. I chose to wear my jeans and a pink sweater again, since we had stayed home last night and I had only worn them for a couple of hours. I was finishing applying my second coat of mascara when I heard him call out to me. “Angie, you ready to go, babe?”
“Coming,” I replied. I quickly inserted the mascara wand back into the barrel and tightened it, I picked up my perfume and sprayed once on the wrist and I also sprayed it once in front of myself, quickly walking through the mist as to catch on my clothing. I placed the perfume back down and touched my wrists to spread the fragrance. I looked in the mirror once more, satisfied with the reflection looking back at me, and turned on my heel to meet him.
The moment I enter the living area, I can tell he is eyeing my outfit. I feel a little embarrassed, “I know, I wore this last night, I only packed two outfits, and since I only wore it for a short time…” I trail off not really knowing what to say next.
“You look great Angela, perfect for our day out,” he said as he crosses the room to me in four long strides.
“Come. I have the car waiting for us” he offers his hand to me.
“Sounds good. I’ve just got to grab my handbag. I’ll be back in a second.” I quickly dart back into the bedroom, scooping my cell phone from its place on the nightstand and throw it into my handbag. I check that my wallet is inside, and return to Elliot. He had placed his hand into his pocket. Feeling brave, I quickly slip my hand onto his wrist. Feeling the incentive, he pulls his hand out and slips it into mine. “Okay. I’m ready. Let’s go,” I smile.
We walk out the front door and that’s when I see the car. Not the black Mercedes we arrived in yesterday. No, this is an older car. It is a classic, that I knew for certain. It is cherry red, with two white speed stripes down the length. And it is beautiful.
“I can’t be sure, but that looks to me like a Cadillac?” I ask. I was pretty sure of myself, but I thought it best to act uncertain and ask just in case. Men tend to be pretty proud of their automobiles.
“I can’t believe you know older cars. It sure is a caddy. It’s actually a 1955 Cadillac Eldorado, to be exact. It was my grandfather’s car. He bought her brand new, when she first came out. Only he and I have ever driven her.” I laugh internally as Elliot refers to the car as a she. I also notice that even though he is talking to me he is somewhere else. In the midst of a memory, no doubt.
I wander toward the beautiful car before me. There is absolutely no way this paint is original. It’s too glossy. A car that is over half a century old cannot look anywhere as new as the car parked in front of me does. Looking through the window I can see that the interior appears to be in the same condition. I open the passenger door and notice the beautiful, crisp, white leather seats with red stitching. No fingerprints on the steering wheel or the dashboard. “Has this car ever been driven? And I don’t mean just downtown?” I had to ask.
He chuckles a little at my question. “Yes, it has. But not very often. It has less than 5000 miles on the odometer. I’m responsible for maybe 1500 of them” he replies.
I pull the upper half of my body back out of the car, closing the door with a heavy thump. I step away from the car, running my eyes over the lines of the classic vehicle. This is the car I had pictured Elliot loving. A car that fits in with his love of all things old.
“We can’t go taking this beautiful car into New York. It would get scratched and I can’t have that on my conscience.” It was true. If we parked in a parking lot and someone opened a door onto it or some jealous person keyed it, I would never be able to forgive myself.
“Why don’t we go for a drive instead, then? I can show you around this area, and if we still feel like shopping later, we can take the SUV?” Elliot asks.
Happy with his plan I agree. “That sounds perfect.” And it was true. I was happy to be going for a ride in Elliot’s Cadillac, but I was incredibly relieved to know that we wouldn’t be stopping anywhere this car could be damaged.
We both hop into the vehicle. The feel of the soft leather against my body is very comfortable. Elliot pushes the key into the ignition and turns. The engine comes to life right away. Just like a brand new motor would. Not something that our grandparents used to drive around in before we were even thought of. It wasn’t an overly loud or offensive motor, for which I was thankful. There is nothing worse than those motors that sound like a jet plane. Why do you need something that loud? I mean if you’re part of NASCAR, then fair enough, but not on the streets, people!
I know that even with this car being relatively quiet, it would still gain interest and get people’s attention. People would still look as this baby drove down the road. How do I know this? Easy. If I weren’t in the car and instead one of the hypothetical people on the street, I would be having a good look. Possibly even pulling out my cell phone to take a photo as it drove by.
We are at the end of the driveway now. Elliot turns onto the road. We are on our way to somewhere. I wasn’t going to worry though, it was Elliot’s day. I’m going to go with the flow. Wherever we end up is completely fine with me.
I relax into my seat and allow myself a quick glance at Elliot. The way he was dressed today almost matches the car, as if this car were made for this exact outfit. He is wearing a pair of grey slacks, the ones with the crease down the front, a black belt with a silver buckle, white leather wingtips, and a white Polo shirt with the little polo player embroidered in red and the underside of his collar the matching tone.
He has his sunglasses on, covering those beautiful blue eyes. His left hand is on the wheel, while his right-hand rests on his thigh. He cuts an impressive figure, even now, sitting in a car doing an action that most people do every day, driving a vehicle. And yet to me, he looks incredibly cool and sexy. I don’t look that comfortable when I drive my car. I am one of those people who always maintains two hands on the steering wheel. And when I turn a corner, I employ the ten and two o’clock method. Safety first for me, in everything I do.
Tearing my gaze away from Elliot. I settle myself completely into the leather seat and look out the window, eyeing the mansions as we drive on by. Some are older homes like Elliot’s, others are newer construction. They all had something in common though. They appear to be on large lots and are incredibly large homes. They are all stunning, even though my personal preference is an older home that has been remodeled. I do see one home that is completely modern architecture, clean lines, stacker stone to the front.
I am enjoying myself immensely. There are no expectations. No questions. We are just two people enjoying each other’s company, while driving around in a highly collectible car. I turn my attention away from the outside of the vehicle and back toward the main attraction. Not moving too quickly, I turn my head slightly, only wanting to catch a glimpse of him for the moment. He still has one hand on the wheel and the other resting on his leg. He sure is beautiful.
Before I can stop myself. I reach out with my left arm and place my hand on top of his. I make sure to keep my body facing forwards, my head looking straight ahead. That way if he turns to face me, I won’t know.
He moves his hand, lifting in so his palm is now facing up, allowing my hand to then fall back into place on his. He holds it and then gently, I feel him squeeze my fingers. I turn to look at him and I notice he is smiling. His completely carefree smile. And I think to myself, what a nice way to spend the morning.
While our hands are linked, the peace and quiet of the car is only interrupted by the occasional tune on the radio, turned down very softly. My mind wanders allowing me to enjoy a daydream.
The daydream feels real. Here we are, this could be real life. We are going for a drive along a beautiful tree-lined road. A meadow in full bloom to our left, filled with flowers in so many shades, yellows, purples, oranges and blues. Hearing a little person speak from behind me I turn in my seat. Seeing our two children in the back seat and all of a sudden, we are all giggling. I turn my attention to Elliot who is sitting beside me. I see the light bouncing off his wedding band as he maintains control of the steering wheel. My own showing, when he takes my hand in his. A simple gold band. Looking at Elliot’s face I can see the beginning of some fine lines around his eyes. We must be a little older. We are happy, very happy. He opens his mouth to speak. “I love you Angela.”
