There had been the liquor test. Dick had offered him a martini. Kline had politely declined and asked if there was any bourbon or whiskey in the house. Dick’s response: another pat on the back.
There had also been the pizza test. Last night, my mother hadn’t felt like cooking, so Dick had handed Kline a menu from Pappadoro’s—a mom and pop pizza shop up the street—and told him to order a bunch of pies for everyone. Kline had gotten another pat on the back when he ordered three large meat lover’s supremes and cheesy garlic bread.
Sports. Cars. Politics. You name it, and Dick tested. Surprisingly enough, Kline had passed every one with flying colors. How’d I know this? The pat on the back, of course.
We stepped out into the three-car garage, and Kline immediately removed his arm from my shoulder, walking over toward one of my dad’s cars.
“A 428 Cobra Jet Mustang. Wow.” He let out a low whistle, eyeing my father’s car with an appreciative gleam in his eyes. “She’s a beaut.”
“Probably my favorite person in the house.” My father patted him on the back, chuckling.
“Bought her in sixty-eight. She’s in prime condition. Engine was restored a few years ago.”
“Tell me you kept the Low Riser cylinder heads,” Kline added, moving around the car with his hands on his hips, his eyes plastered to the red paint of my father’s most prized possession.
Sometimes, I wondered if he loved this car more than he loved his own kids.
“Of course I did.”
“Thank God.” Kline skimmed his fingers across the paint, light enough that he wouldn’t leave a mark, and a giant smile consumed his face. “This, right here, was the game changer for Ford.”
Dick stared at my boyfriend like he was falling in love. “She redeemed the Ford name in the factory of horsepower.”
Kline nodded and glanced up at me, a boyish smile still etched on his handsome face. “Why didn’t you tell me your father had this in his garage?”
I shrugged. “I had no idea you’d get such a hard-on for a car.”
“Are you kidding me?” Kline laughed. “This is one of my favorite cars. Ever. My father’s a Ford man, through and through. He’d lose it if he got his hands on this car.”
“I think your dad and I would get along just fine,” Dick said with a smile.
Jesus. I’d never seen my dad smile so much in my life. The pulsating vein in the center of his forehead, yeah, I’d definitely seen my fair share of that, especially when I’d missed curfew in high school. But this giant smile that had taken up residence on my father’s face? It was so rare that it was almost creepy.
Dick Cummings was a pretty happy guy, but he didn’t usually pass out smiles and giddy looks on a daily basis. Honestly, I think the last time I’d seen him smile like this, my mother had brought home three bags from Victoria’s Secret.
“I’d let you take her for a spin, but I’ve gotta take her into the shop come tomorrow morning. She’s having issues when I try to crank her.”
“Mind if I take a look?” Kline asked.
By the sounds of their conversation, you’d think my dad’s car was an actual person, a female, at that. Men were so weird.
“By all means.” My dad gestured toward the car. He grabbed the keys from the hook and tossed them to him.
Kline hopped in the driver’s seat and attempted to turn the engine. It didn’t start, and I’d never claimed to know car sounds, but whatever abnormal sound was coming from the car couldn’t have been good.
“See what I mean, son?” Dick asked, elbows resting on the driver’s side window.
Son? One bonding moment over his car and my dad was calling him son. I was sure any minute he’d give Kline his blessing and tell my mother to start planning my bachelorette party. No doubt, Dr. Savannah Cummings would prefer picking out penis straws to floral arrangements.
If anyone bought me dicks for my bachelorette party, it would be my mother. Cassie would provide the liquor and gift bag filled with crotchless panties. Now that I thought about it, it was a wonder I’d stayed a virgin for as long as I did. I was surrounded by a bunch of horny floozies.
“Dick, I think it’s the starter motor relay.”
“Really?”
Kline nodded. “I can hear the high-load relay engaging. Mind if I pop the hood and take a look at the engine?”
“Of course.” My father stood back from the car as Kline hopped out and busied himself under the hood.
After a few minutes, my boyfriend was convinced he knew the issue and could fix it. And by the look on Dick’s face, I was starting to wonder if he would be the one to marry Kline.
“I’m grabbing something to drink. You guys want anything?” I offered.
“I’m good, babe,” Kline declined, while my father merely mumbled, “No,” too damn entranced by what was going on underneath the hood of his car.