She took the key from the ignition and slouched deep into the seat. I hate to admit it, she sighed, but I’m going to miss this car. It’s definitely a superior machine—it’s pretty, and it’s comfy, and everything works. In four days she could cash in her savings bond and buy a car of her own. Then she would have to return the Mercedes to Ken. How would she ever do that? she groaned. If she had to face him she was sure she’d do something stupid and maudlin…like burst into tears. Maybe she could get Bitsy to follow her out to Darby Hills and just leave the darn thing at his front gate. A large pickup truck rolled into the space next to her. Its inhabitants cut the engine and waved. They looked around the lot and settled back with containers of coffee. That was strange. Only skaters were usually here at this hour of the morning. She scanned the parking area and realized that there were no familiar cars. An odd sinking feeling settled in the pit of her stomach—the sort of feeling she might get showing up for a party on time but a day late, or if she’d accidentally gone to the supermarket in her bedroom slippers.
