SPEEDING FORWARD
As November's early dusk darkened into night, we flew down the highway. My stepdaughter Tracie sat in the passenger seat, stunningly beautiful in her glittery mini dress. It pained me that I could only glance at how the dress showed off her perfect nineteen-year-old body. I was driving as fast as I ever had.
As I zipped past a slower car, she teased me, "Wow, Mom, when did you become a race car driver?"
I chuckled. "You usually tell me I drive like an old lady."
She said, "Well, usually, you do."
"Oh stop," I said, batting at her playfully, then gripping my hand back onto the steering wheel. At such speed, I should keep both hands driving. But I couldn't resist a brief touch of her smooth bare knee. Her lighthearted giggle was sweet music to me - especially after the year we'd had.
"Well, at least tell me where you're taking me," she said.
"Nope."
"Mom!" She scoffed and crossed her arms. "You're so mean to me." She pushed out her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout that made me smile.
"I know I am, sweetie. But I already told you, it's a surprise." A few days before, I had only told her to pack a bag for a few days and that we'd leave right from the award ceremony. She saw the excitement in my eyes and I didn't have to ask twice.
"Well, I'm already surprised," she said. "I have never seen you speed like this."
"I have on occasion."