Jeff’s first love lives in our garage. “She” has had a good life and been in the family for several decades longer than I have. Not everyone was gifted their first set of wheels from their Grandpa and inevitably, she has a pretty soft spot in Jeff’s heart. When we were dating, he asked me on the phone one night if I would like to contribute to an auto restoration project. I think for Jeff, that question was a prelude to a proposal and I fully expected him to want to use it as our wedding car.
Jeff’s 1972 Malibu was not our wedding car because after a decade in the garage, she needs a little bit of work. Last weekend, Jeff insured her for a day to get her out for a full tune-up. When he got home late afternoon, he cheekily sauntered up to me and asked, “Baby- wanna go for a ride in my muscle car?!” After we both busted out laughing, I could hardly refuse.
Thankfully, the snowy-sleety rain of last weekend let up for an hour so off we went. I’m not sure if it was the contagious love Jeff has for this machine, the lure of a country drive or just the thrill of (after two and a half years of marriage) my husband asking me out on a date , but it was GREAT.