1. The Rambler part 1


    Date: 1/8/2017, Categories: Taboo Author: rgough, Source: xHamster

    "Jeez, Dad. What an ugly car." My son laughed as he held a picture up, arms length from his face as if it could actually damage his eyes. "You didn't really drive around in that, did you?" I stretched my hand out and waved it, silently demanding he turn over the offending picture and Tom put it in my hand just as my wife leaned over and laughed. "That was your father's first car," she cackled. "Man is it ugly. What was it?" Tom asked as I jerked the picture from his hand. "A Rambler," his Mom said. Miffed, I corrected my wife, "A 1959 Rambler American Continental." That's right," Laura's mirth boiled forth. "I forgot." "What's that on the back?" Tom pointed at the picture, now in my hand. Engrossed in the picture, I didn't answer. "Oh, that. That was for the rear tire," Laura explained. "Like a Lincoln," she laughed. "You went out with Dad when he was driving that?" Tom's skepticism was evident in his voice, clearly not convinced that an attractive, modern woman like his mother would have gone out with a 'goodie-goodie' like his father, especially driving such a joke car. "Oh no," Laura laughed. "Gran owned half of it and she talked your Grandad into lending your Dad the money to get a car of his own after he first brought me home, something decent to take a nice girl out in, bless her soul. That's when he got the '57 Chevy hardtop. Now that was a nice car. There should be a picture of it in here somewhere." Laura started pushing pictures around, searching for the Chevy, and ...
    ... Tom's attention turned to the new search. My focus remained on the '59 Rambler. The picture, as far as I knew, was the only one left of that car. Dad had taken the picture of me standing by the driver's side door, with Mom beside me. My hand was stretched out onto the roof of the car and my other arm was curled around my Mom's waist, standing beside me. We were looking through boxes of Mom's old pictures. She passed away last year, three years after Dad. My eyes focused on the picture of my mother, about forty then but looking trim and youthful. We both wore big smiles, still innocent of what would happen in the car which, as Laura noted, was shared between my mother and me. I put the picture in my shirt pocket and joined the search for a picture of my beloved '57 Chevy, the car in which Tom would had been conceived if Laura hadn't been so insistent on me using condoms. I enjoyed this part of the day, evening, after everyone else had gone to bed. I was sitting in my lazy boy, feet up, lights dimmed, TV showing the news but the sound turned way down, sipping a glass of 20 year old port. My thoughts turned back to the picture of the Rambler and I pulled it from my shirt pocket. The Rambler. So many special memories. Laura was right about one thing. Mom did make Dad lend me the money to get a car, money I never paid back. And Mom didn't want me to take Laura out in it, but Laura was a long ways away from the why of it. Thank god. I closed my eyes, picturing those first days in ...
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