Chapter 6

Our little car quest has us in Virginia, where the dealerships are all close to each other in what Josh calls an auto mall. Anyway, since we're in the suburbs, we're eating at a chain restaurant, which is fine, it's just… different than what I'm used to. People in the lobby holding vibrating coasters, wait staff singing happy birthday to people, families with babies in high chairs and kids screaming and coloring and eating off of children's menus… I find myself staring at one such family, thinking of how easily that could be me. Had I not chosen this job, this man with whom I spend twenty hours a day; had I married FreeRide and squeezed out a few kids… that would be my life. Pawning over my children, frustrated at their behavior, on the verge of crying or screaming or spanking, and FreeRide, eyes glued to some football game that's on the television in the bar, ignoring both the children and me. Had I not saved myself from that life, had Josh not helped me, I could be that woman.

And it's not the kids that get me, it's not. I want children someday. I imagine them with blonde curly hair and big brown eyes and dimples that get me every time. I imagine them messy and clumsy and adorably demanding. I imagine them understanding the constitution before the age of five and watching baseball with their father. Not that I'm imagining any specific father…

"Ok, let's talk logically about this," their fath… Josh says, breaking me out of thought.

I tear my eyes away from the woman in the booth and look at him. "Hmm…"

"The car, what are we thinking so far?"

I take a deep breath and prepare to… are those rolls? When did the waiter bring us rolls? Why would he do that? Doesn't he know I'm on a diet? I can't have a roll! What the hell? "When did we get these?"

He chuckles at me. "I thought you were starving, you didn't even notice the guy bring the rolls?"

"I was…" I glance back towards pod-Donna and then back at the rolls. "What were you saying?"

"The car… what are we thinking?"

We? We clearly have different thoughts on the subject. "Right. I'm glad you brought that up."

"The Lexus, right?"

"What?"

"That's your favorite so far?" The rolls are calling to me. Have one, Donna. We're delicious.

My eyes widen. "The Lexus?"

He shrugs. "You've been going on and on about the color all day."

He has a point. "I did like the color." I also like eating and buying clothing and occasionally getting my hair cut. "But I have a better plan."

"You do?" he asks doubtfully.

Here I go. I've been practicing this in my head. "Yes. I was thinking that instead of buying a new car…"

Unsurprisingly, Josh cuts me off. "No."

I, however, am undeterred. "Instead of buying a new car…"

Once again I'm cut off. "Absolutely not."

I ignore him again. "That I'd have some repairs done to the The Beast."

"You're getting a new car."

I take a deep breath. The rolls smell really good; I should've breathed through my mouth. "What if I had the electrical problem fixed?"

He raises his eyebrows. "The electrical problem?"

"The turn signal and reverse lights."

He rubs his hand over his face. "Your reverse lights don't work?"

I bite my lip. Oops. I forgot he didn't know that. "And… I'll get the power steering fixed."

"No."

"Josh…"

"Donna..."

"I like my car," I pout.

He takes a deep breath. "So, you get the power steering and the electrical problem fixed. What about the starting problem, the stalling problem, the odometer problem and the clutch problem?"

"Josh," I say in that 'don't be absurd' voice of mine. "No car's perfect."

He nods slowly. "So, you'd like to throw a few thousand dollars into fixing the car from hell, but when you're done it'll still have almost three hundred thousand miles on it and be unsafe to drive. That's your plan?"

I nod with a big smile on my face. "Yes."

"You need a new plan."

"Josh…"

"Whining isn't going to work."

Our waiter comes to fill up my water and I hand him the basket of rolls. "Can you take these, please?"

Josh's mouth drops open. "Donna!" he screeches, pulling the basket of bread from Eric the waiter as if he hasn't eaten in a month. He stabs a roll with his fork while at the same time looking at me as though I've told him, oh I don't know… that he has to buy a new thirty thousand dollar car! The waiter looks from me to him and then back to me. I simply take the basket from Josh and give it back to him.

"He's going to think I don't let you eat," I say quietly once we're alone.

He starts mumbling. "I spend all day helping her shop for a car and what thanks do I get? She takes away the rolls."

I shake my head slightly. Who's he talking to? "I think you're going to make it. As hard as it might be."

"Well, yeah… now that I got one."

I fight the urge to eat Josh's roll and decide on a new plan. "How about this plan? I'll buy a used car."

He looks at me. "How used?"

"I don't know. I'll look around, check the paper, drive to CarMax in a few weeks." He shakes his head. "Next weekend. I'll drive to CarMax next weekend."

"Except that you're getting a new car today because you're never again driving the Freddie-mobile," he says, buttering his roll. Butter? Oh, it's melting and dripping off the roll…

"I've been doing fine in the Freddie-mobile."

"Yes," he says around a bite of what looks to me like the most amazing piece of bread ever baked. "For instance, two weeks ago, when it broke down at one o'clock in the morning and you called a tow truck instead of me," he's getting louder, "even though the tow truck driver could've been a psychopath," and louder, "who could've killed you and stashed your body with the other thirty women he's killed. Yeah Donna," and even louder, "you're doing great with the monster."

"The Beast," I mumble.

"Whatever," he shoots back.

"Josh, I was fine. I was with Cathy and…"

"Yeah, she's good protection to have," he says sarcastically.

"And you were star-gazing and I didn't want to interrupt you, so I called a professional." I try not to sound bitter, but he was out with the NASA whore. You remember.

"I was home from my business meeting," he says, stressing the word business, "by ?xml:namespace prefix st1 ns "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" / ten fifteen."

Yes! I knew it! I knew that hussy wouldn't succeed! Slut! Ha! "Well, I didn't know that," I say calmly while singing in my head, 'He didn't sleep with the NASA whore. He didn't sleep with the NASA whore.'

The waiter brings our food then, putting my grilled chicken with steamed broccoli and rice pilaf down in front of me and Josh's BBQ chicken and baked potato down in front of him. "Why did we have to get healthy food?" he asks himself.

I chuckle because there were burgers and fries and ribs on the menu that would've been plenty bad for him, but because I told him we had to eat healthy tonight, he ordered healthy. This makes me happy for reasons I don't really like to think about.

He looks up at me, a huge bite of chicken already in my mouth, and laughs. "Eat quickly. We're getting you a new car. Tonight."

"It's almost seven," I say around my food. "We won't get done tonight."

He puts a big glop of sour cream on his potato. I love sour cream. "We're only going to two more places."

I sigh and stab a piece of butter-less broccoli. "Where?"

"Audi and Volkswagen."

"What?"

"You heard me."

I think for a minute. "Can I get a bug?" Wouldn't that be fun? I could hit people all the time; and by people I mean Josh.

"No, you can't get a bug. You can get a Passat."

That's no fun. "What about a Chevy? What about a Ford?"

"Why do you keep asking me that? Audi and Volkswagen."

"You drive an Audi."

"Yes," he says, nodding.

"Josh, you're not being realistic about what I can afford."

"You're not being realistic about what you can afford. With interest rates this low, your payment won't be bad."

"But it'll be more than I can afford."

He puts down his fork. "Ok, what can you afford per month?"

"Ten dollars."

He chuckles at me. He can't help it; I'm very cute. "Ten dollars, I guess."

I nod and smile. "Yes."

"You can afford four-hundred dollars a month, at least."

"What?"

"I know what you make, Donna."

"But…"

"But what?"

"I'm saving money."

"Ahh… for what exactly?"

"I don't know. A cruise. A trip. A house. A wedding dress."

His eyes get big and he chokes on a bite of his potato. "A wedding dress?"

"I'm getting married!" I say sternly.

"What?" he nearly screams. Several people look over.

"Someday damn it! I am. I'm not going to be some old spinster with a hundred cats. I don't even like cats!"

"Oh. You meant… oh..." He puts his hand to his chest and takes deep breaths. He looks like he's about to pass out. Finally he looks back up at me. "Just for the record, you aren't like, engaged, right?"

My eyes widen. "No I'm not engaged!"

"Ok, just clearing that up," he says, still breathing deeply.

I stare at him for a second. "I'm just saying, what if I need money for something?"

"You do need the money for something. You need it for a car."

I pout for a few seconds and then take the last bite of my chicken. I'm not full. Then something occurs to me. I'm brilliant! "Can I keep The Beast too?"

"No."

My mouth drops open. "Just for fun?"

"Fine."

My eyes perk up. He should've mentioned that in the first place. "Really?" I ask, full of excitement.

"Yes, if you give me every set of keys to it, have the battery taken out and all four wheels taken off."

"But…"

"You, Donnatella Moss, are never driving The Beast again."

"But…"

"Never."