Shadow covered half the cement on the carport. The last patch of sunlight created a rainbow where I sprayed the hose, watering the blooming lavender, catmint and marigolds planted months ago. I hoped at least one of them would ward off mosquitoes. The marigolds clashed, looking garish next to the graceful stalks of lavender.
Logan wanted to ride his Trike as soon as he got home, show off tricks to Mindy and Daddy. Just like Mindy showed tricks in her car.
“Tricks?”
“She says ‘tricks’! I’ll show you, too. Please, Mommy!”
I finished getting the garden mud cleared when the strange car bounced up onto the carport, and I stepped back. The driver, a woman I didn’t know, braked and the car rocked. I heard Logan’s voice, “There’s Mommy, there’s my Trike, look, look.”
The back door opened and Logan, not waiting for someone to help him from the back seat, slid out and ran to the motorized three-wheeler. Larry got out the passenger side and I stood still, the hose dripping. Larry always drove. Larry and I never parked on the carport, so Logan had room to play. I dropped the dripping hose and followed Logan to the Trike, wanting to grab his helmet, wanting a hug, wanting to buckle him into the seat.
Logan mounted the Trike, pushing at me, “I do, I do!”.
“Don’t I get a hug first?”
“I do, I do!”
“Okay, Okay. Just wait, wait for your helmet.”
I turned to get the helmet. I heard the Trike battery chime and buzz on. Logan had his feet on the pegs and started off down the carport.
“I’m driving here!”
Mindy was out of the car, calling to Logan, “Go, Buddy, go!!” The Trike was going.
“Look at me, Mindy!” Logan yanked one handle toward his body. The wheels caught and skidded sideways on the wet pavement. Logan tilted all the way over in the seat, let out a fierce war cry, “Get outta my way, Idiot. Get a license.”
“You tell ‘em, Buddy.” Mindy walked to me, her hand out. “I’m the bad influence.”
“And bad driver,” Larry grinned. “She’s teaching Loggie tricks!”
Logan reversed the Trike, backing up, looking back over his shoulder, off balance in the seat. He yanked at the handle again and the front wheel turned sharply, and the toy turned over. Logan landed on hands and knees on the rough, wet cement. I dropped the helmet.
Larry got to him first. “You’re okay, Bud, you’re okay. Gonna be okay.”
“Look, he’s got his first road rash, looks like barbecue sauce! Right? His first crash?”
“I’ll go get the First-Aid. Larry, just bring him in?”
“Let’s get you in the bath. Clean you up, okay, Loggie?” Larry says, scooping him up, cuddling him.
“I want to do more tricks! I need to!”
Mindy followed me to the cabinet and took the kit from my hands. She plopped on the blanket on the couch, the blanket I was using to cover me at night. I don’t settle, can’t fall asleep in the bed. She opened the kit and rooted around, pulling out bandages, ointment, and wipes. I pulled the blanket out.
“Excuse me, that’s mine,” I said, draping it over the chair. “How do you know Larry?”
“Oh, Darts League, Joe’s Lounge, I’m getting pretty good, thanks to Larry.”
“Oh, darts. Yes, he’s pretty good at throwing things. Good arm.” I stood and I grabbed the medicine kit from her lap, scooped the mess of supplies into the box. I began to sort it all back in the right spots.
“Yeah, I was a newbie. But I wanted to play since I saw Ted Lasso do it, it looked so powerful. So I found the league website and it said all comers welcome.”
I thought back to the night I’d packed up Larry’s dart trophies, his ribbons, sashes and buttons and scrapbook. I’d tired of seeing the whole mess of them. I threw the whole box into the street, not caring who’d see it. I had a good arm, too.
Then I thought of Joe’s Lounge, imagined Larry slipping his arm around Mindy’s shoulders, helping her develop her aim and focus, breathing together into the flow. Standing angled together and drilling until the darts consistently met the target.
“You know what, Mindy? You need to leave. Just get out of here!”
Mindy paused and then sprang from the couch, “Larry said you were rude.”
“Me? Rude. You put my son in your car with no car seat, let him climb out. You drive up on the carport. You taught him how to drive recklessly, and road rage.”
“It was just a couple tricks. He’ll be fine.”
I’d been waiting, hesitating to go shopping for a new bed. Now, I thought maybe I’d get another couch as well. (890 words)