Something to read as I work on my next novel.
It all started when I received a phone call from my daughter asking me, as she has in the past, if I was doing anything that night.
She was car shopping and wanted to know if I would go with her. The drive time to the dealer with traffic—over one hour and a half.
Pondering how crazy it was to shop for a car that was so far away on a weekday evening, I agreed, and we left.
I’ve been in the market for a car. I looked into Kia Souls, but they didn’t feel right. I knew I’d find the right car for me because it would just feel right.
It was midnight on a Saturday and I couldn’t sleep. For kicks, I Googled “used Nissan Juke for sale.”
And I found it. My dream car. It was perfect. It was white. It had all the tech (bluetooth, moonroof, push start). It looked brand new.
It was also in L.A. (1.5 hours away, no traffic). But I was willing to make the trek! Willing to take the chance!
All I needed to do was convince my mother to come with me. . . And I did.
For Bryce and my anniversary this year, we took the town by storm.
Literally, there was a freak storm.
But it didn’t keep us from enjoying our weekend. We packed the car, threw on some extra layers, ran to Walmart (because neither of us owned an umbrella), and headed out to Balboa Island for a beautiful day of quirky shops and beachfront views.
Neither of us had ever been there, so my parents gave me the lowdown of where to take Bryce for dinner and ice cream and what places to see.
Of course, I brought my camera.
