The next week, after getting all of her lessons from Skye, Lizzie scheduled another driving test for herself. A couple days later, she did everything involving the test: the driving and the exam. Later, she learns that she passed and got herself a driver's license. Everyone is happy for her, including her parents and her friends. Just a week after, Lizzie was painting her fingernails red while watching television in the basement of her home. When she finished with her nails, her father walked down the stairs.
"Hey, sweetie, can you come upstairs for a minute?" he asked, stopping in the middle of the stairs.
"I didn't break the other car!" Lizzie reacted.
"I know you didn't. Me and your mother want to show you something."
"Oh, so the other car is fine?"
"Yes, it is."
"Okay. Wait, what do you want to show me?"
"You'll see."
"Is it my birthday?"
"Don't be sarcastic."
"I'm not being sarcastic. Is today actually my birthday?"
"No. Come upstairs."
"But my nails are drying."
"If you don't come upstairs, I'm going to touch and ruin your nails."
"Okay, I'm sorry." She stood up from the floral sofa and kept her arms out from her sides.
She followed her father upstairs into the kitchen, through the living room and out the front door which was open. They walked outside and stopped in front of a parked, red car with Lizzie's mother standing by.
"What do you think?" said Lizzie's father, holding his arms up to point to the car.
"I think it's nice," said Lizzie. "There are no scratches and it looks new. And it's red, which is my favorite color. It's perfect. Who's it for?"
"It's for you."
"For my birthday?"
"Today's not your birthday."
"So it's for when my birthday comes?"
"No! It's for you, as in it's yours, as in you can drive it forever."
"Wait, it's a gift for me?"
"Yes," Her mother replied.
Lizzie squealed. She ran over to the car and tried to hug it by the windows.
"Why did you get me a car?" she asked.
"Well, you did pass your driving test," said her mother.
"And we think we were a bit harsh towards you when you broke our jeep," added the father.
"A bit harsh?" Lizzie repeated. "I busted that thing up. I deserved your harshness."
"Well, this is your car to bust up now," said the mother. "So enjoy driving."
"She's kidding about the 'busting up'," said the father. "But if you continue to drive this car, you can't break ours."
"Oh, thank you, guys, so much," Lizzie grinned. "I don't deserve this."
"Of course, you do," said her mother, rubbing Lizzie's back.
"I know but it's such a waste of money. I know your car is repaired now but what if the damages were unfixable? Then you would've had to buy another car and trust me, the money I made would've not been enough to buy an extra car."
Lizzie's parents paused as they stared at her.
"Well, you don't think you deserve the car," said her father, "then we can just return it."
"No!" Lizzie's eyes widened. "I want it. I don't deserve it but I want it. It's good. I'm sorry."
"Oh, sweetie pie..."
"Ah, I've always wanted a car since I was six."
"Well, you're old enough now," her mother commented.
"And how did you know I wanted a red car?"
"Red is your favorite color," answered her father.
"How did you know my favorite color is red?"
"You told us a billion times."
"Wow, I've really said it that many times?"
"Good lord..."
"Oh, what can I do to repay you guys?"
"Nothing, sweetie," replied the mother. "Nothing at all."
"Just stay away from our cars," the father added.
"That's a done deal," Lizzie nodded her head.
"You're still going to hug the car, sweetie?" asked her mother.
Lizzie closed her eyes. "Mm-hmm."
"Is it the smell?" asked her father. "The guys at the shop said before they give people cars, they clean them with lemon water."
"That sounds nice."
"What is lemon water, anyway?" asked the mother. "It's just lemon juice mixed with plain water?"
"I don't know, sweetie," the father responded. "I don't make lemon water at my job."
"You should," said Lizzie. "It's smells so nice."
"Okay, why don't you give your car a spin..." her mother recommended, "or whatever the cool kids call it."
"Well, I don't want to spin a car again ever," said Lizzie. "But I can just drive it to the mall."
Lizzie let go of the car and got handed the keys to it by her mother. She walked around the car and opened the driver door. She popped in and closed the door, putting the keys in the ignition. She started the car then pressed a button in the steering wheel that made all of the windows roll down.
"Lizzie, don't you think your nails look a little trampy?" asked her mother.
"Mom, they're just red," Lizzie responded.
"And long."
"No, I don't think they're trampy."
"Well, I think they are."
"So you're going to go to the mall?" questioned the father.
"Yeah, but you guys can come along if you want to," said Lizzie. "You know, see my great driving skills."
Her parents responded by a loud mumbling of excuses and disagreements. Lizzie's grin of excitement quickly dropped to a pit of confusion.
"I'm not ready yet," Lizzie's mother had the last word.
No comments:
Post a Comment