Dumb Luck by Lesley Choyce

jealous?”
    â€œâ€™Cause that’s the way it works.”
    I took another quick shot of the whiskey. “And that’s good?”
    â€œIn a way, yes. More buzz.”
    The third shot was the one that gave me a buzz. I don’t know why I was doing this—drinking alone in my room, on the phone to the girl that I wanted to be my girlfriend but who kept reminding me she was not. “So does that mean, yes, you’ll do the date?” I asked.
    â€œOh, hell, why not? Sure.”
    I put the bottle back into the desk drawer. “Taylor, what if I said it really was you I wanted? Maybe I’m falling in love with you. I don’t want those other girls.”
    â€œDon’t be silly,” she said. “I explained all this to you before.” She didn’t take me seriously at all. I’m not even sure I was taking myself seriously. Maybe it was the whiskey talking. “So when is this big dinner date, Brando?”
    This was the first time she called me by my nickname. “Next Friday,” I said. “You pick the restaurant and the color of the limo.”
    â€œIt’s gonna cost ya. Won’t be cheap.”
    â€œI’m okay with that. Should I warn the bank ahead of time?”
    â€œMaybe. And we’ll have to make a reservation. I’ll make the reservation. And I’ll drive. No limo. I like driving you places. See ya.”
    â€œBye.”
    I retrieved the bottle and took another slug. I liked what it was doing to my head.

chapter seventeen
    My father’s car lot had been open for a full week now. He hadn’t been home much in the past few weeks. There had been a lot of dinners that were just my mom and me, and leftover meatloaf or spaghetti.
    On Saturday, my dad drove my mom and me to his business. We met the two guys he had hired to work there. Kevin and Carew were their names. I wasn’t sure I liked either of them. They had that really see-through “I wanna be your best friend” way about them that I’d seen before in car salesmen. Heck, I’d seen my dad put it on a million times. Apparently, it’s what you had to do if you wanted to sell cars.
    The asphalt was new and very black and the cars were not old clunkers, but recent models all looking waxed and polished.
    My dad was leading us around the lot. He waved at some customers looking at SUV s. When we came to a blue Honda Accord, he produced a set of keys and handed them to my mother. “This one’s for you,” he said.
    My mom looked stunned.
    â€œIt’s got air, satellite radio, GPS . And low mileage. I handpicked it for you.”
    My mom accepted the keys. I saw the tears well up in her eyes. Then she hugged my dad and I realized I hadn’t seen enough of that recently. He seemed really proud of himself, and I was thinking now that this whole business thing was going to be good for him and good for our family.
    â€œGo ahead, take it for a spin,” my dad said.
    She looked thrilled. “You two come along.”
    â€œNot now,” my dad said. “I want to talk to Brandon and give you a chance to get to know your new car.”
    My mom hugged him again and then she hugged me. We were one happy family.
    We watched her get in the car, adjust the mirrors, start it up, heard the music from the radio. And then she gingerly drove her new car out into the streets with Kevin and Carew waving to her.
    When she was out of sight, my dad asked, “What about you, Brandon? Don’t you want a car of your own?”
    â€œI don’t have a license yet. You know that.”
    â€œBut I don’t get it. Why don’t you sign up for the driver-ed course and get on with it?”
    I didn’t quite know how to answer that one. I’d thought about it plenty. Sure, I could have my own car, get my license, and drive it anywhere I wanted. On the surface it sounded like the obvious thing for a guy like me to do. It had freedom written all