THE NEXT PHASE... at home (Part 106d)

To say the ride back to Elle’s parents house to get the kids was “interesting” is putting it mildly. She accused me of liking the house because of the basement AND the two car garage. The two car garage caught me by surprise. I really hadn’t thought about the garage but she claimed I wanted it so I’d have a place to work on the race car. I really hadn’t thought of that at all and no matter what I said she wasn’t having any of it. Basically, we were back to square one as far as a house was concerned. As it turned out, as soon as we arrived back home she pulled out the folder with the house plans that she’d clipped out of the newspaper. I knew what was next.

When I’d moved the race car from my parents neighbors garage I’d forgotten to pick up some of the spare parts for it that were in my father’s garage. That meant another trip there and back. When I walked into the garage itself I had a big shock staring at me. It was my grandfather’s old station wagon. It was a pre-war “woody” and in excellent shape but with my grandfather no longer able to drive he’d, obviously, given it to my father. After that settled into my brain it dawned on me that for my father to have actually gotten the vehicle into the garage he had to move a lot of the boxes that had been stored in that space. I quickly looked around and didn’t see any place that they’d been moved to. THAT... caused a major panic!. I’d hidden my stash in one of the boxes that had been stored there. I can tell you that with that realization I was wet with perspiration within seconds.

My mind was racing wondering what my father would say to me about them if he'd found them. Calming down just a bit I started thinking/hoping that he hadn’t. I began rationalizing that if he had he surely would’ve been on the phone to me. Hanging my thoughts on that possibility I began to look around to see if he’d moved the boxes or, hopefully not, gotten rid of them. I surely was hoping that he'd found a new home for them. However, I was wrestling with what would be worse... having my father find them or having them be thrown away. Neither was a good resolution and I couldn’t decide which was worse.

Many, many posts ago I’d described the garage... three car bays plus an attached shed. The shed area held the large gasoline powered generator that my grandfather had bought after the hurricanes back in 1954 as well as the washing machine, water pump and workbench and there was no room for them there. Above that was an attic like area right above it that we called the “mow” where they stored paraphernalia going all the way back to my grandfather’s yacht. I could never figure out why they kept it. As I climbed the stairs I was hoping against hope that I’d find some of the boxes. At the top I didn’t see a one. I knew the apartment above the garage itself hadn’t been occupied in at least five years and decided to take a peek. Opening the door I saw nothing but boxes on top of boxes. I think my knees went weak upon seeing them. Now the problem was in trying to find the one that held my stash.

By then I’d been there for about fifteen or so minutes. I’d called ahead to tell my father what I was coming to get and told him I’d only be there a minute or two and would stop by the house to say hello before I left. Even thought wanted desperately to locate “the stash” I figured I better check in with him before he came looking for me. I made up some lame excuse about not finding what I was looking for to explain what had taken me so long. When he offered to come over to help I told him I had to get going. The last thing I wanted was for him to go rooting through the boxes. As much as I wanted to make sure the stash was OK I decided to postpone the search for another time. I was about a mile down the road when I realized that I hadn’t gotten the parts for the race car that had brought me there in the first place. I had no choice but to continue on home without them. I had live with the fact that at least I hadn’t been found out and would have to wait for another day to find my stash.

It was during the following week that my boss, Hobie, kind of blindsided me when he invited me and Elle to have dinner at his house. At the same time he also invited Bret and his wife. I used the tern “blindsided’ because it came from out of nowhere. Up to that time my relationship with him had been ”all business“ with little to no small talk. Being new, the last thing I wanted to do was to say ”No“. But, he wanted to do it on Saturday, the one and only practice day for the race car before the regular season started. Bret was pretty much in the same position as far as time was concerned as he was a part of his best friend, Bags’, race crew. I had one other problem and that was Elle and we'd have to get a babysitter. I already knew that Elle’s mother was unavailable so it was just another hill to climb. Bret didn’t have that problem... yet, as Jan, his wife, wasn’t due for another few weeks. In spite of all that I smiled and said we’d be there. Elle wasn’t overjoyed with the news either as she was fairly shy in meeting people in that type situation.

I’d managed to get the race car painted, numbered and lettered so was ready to go that Saturday as soon as the track opened. I couldn’t wait to see how the new car handled on the track and was overjoyed by it’s performance. No longer was I fighting the steering wheel through the turns. It actually went where I wanted it to. I was very conscious of the time knowing I had to be at Hobie’s by 5pm so didn’t spend much time actually on the track. I didn’t really need to and when I left I couldn’t wait for opening night.

To be continued...