Chapter 2

After my mother and Chris had met for the first time, she’d told me privately that I wasn’t good enough for him.

“You certainly reached for the brass ring this time, didn’t you?” she’d asked.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Christopher is way out of your league, honey. Surely you know that.”

I’d laughed, thinking she was joking. She wasn’t.

Throughout the relationship, my mother had never failed to let me know that Chris could do better and warned me that I’d have to work to keep him. “I blame myself for raising you to crave champagne on a beer budget,” she’d said on more than one occasion.

Now that Chris and I had broken up, I was convinced she couldn’t wait to rub our demise in my face and say, “I told you this would happen!”

Sitting in my car on my mother’s tree-lined street made me realize I’d have to park here regularly. Although she had a two-car garage, she parked her car on one side, while stuff like the lawnmower and snowblower filled the other, so there was no way my Audi was getting in there. In addition, the garage was accessible only via the alley. In Evanston, many homes (my mother’s included) lacked a driveway that led from the street to the garage and/or backyard. At least a driveway would have given me another off-street parking option since the garage wasn’t available. I dreaded the thought of parking on the street. My Audi wasn’t made for street parking. It needed the comfort and security of a garage. Parking on the street left it vulnerable to thieves, not to mention various dings and scrapes from other cars. If I drove a beater, I wouldn’t have cared about parking on the street, but I drove an A3…an A3 with thousands of dollars still owed on it. As much as I loved my Audi, the car had been an albatross around my neck since I’d bought it.

When Chris and I’d met, I hadn’t even owned a car. I’d taken the L or had used my own feet when I’d needed to go somewhere. On the rare occasions that I had needed a car, I’d either borrowed my mother’s or rented one. Chris had a car, a Honda Accord that he loved and I hated. It was just so basic with none of the bells and whistles that I wanted in a vehicle. And he could afford a better car. He made a six-figure salary as a managing director for a consulting firm and had family money on top of that, but he didn’t care about cars. To him, a car was a mode of transportation, nothing more, nothing less. I, obviously, felt differently.

The car I’d had in college was a piece of shit handed down to me from my Uncle Jake. I’d hated that hatchback, but it had gotten me where I’d needed to go during my undergrad years, so I hadn’t complained too much. But when it had finally died, I’d vowed I’d never drive another beater. I’d walk and take public transit until I could get the kind of car I’d wanted, and that’s what I’d done. I couldn’t afford a luxury vehicle until after I’d moved in with Chris and, honestly, I couldn’t really afford it then, but bought it anyway.

The Audi had called my name. I’d seen it in a car lot in Evanston while on my way to the train station after having brunch with my mother one Sunday morning. The car had been two years old, but beautiful. Sleek and black with a leather interior and a turbocharged engine. Clearly, the previous owner had taken great care of it. Hell, it’d had less than ten thousand miles on it! After seeing the car and dreaming about it that night, I’d gone back the next day and bought it. I’d taken the afternoon off from work, caught the L to Evanston, did the deal, and had driven home. I hadn’t even told Chris until after everything was done.

When I finally did tell him, he’d looked at the car and shook his head.

“This doesn’t make any sense. Why would you buy a car? You take the L to work and my car is here if you need it,” he’d said.

Hiscar. The boring, basic Honda Accord. Ugh. “It’s not about need, it’s about want. I wanted the car, so I bought it.”

Chris looked at the car again, then at me, and frowned. “You can’t possibly afford this.”

Now, thinking back, he had been right. I couldn’t really afford the car. Between the payments, insurance, and parking costs, I was getting hosed on a monthly basis. But I loved my Audi. Every time I slid my ass into the driver’s seat, I felt better. Of course, every time I had to pony up the money to make a payment, renew my insurance, or pay parking garage fees, I felt like shit. But when I was behind the wheel, speeding down Lake Shore Drive, I could block all of that out.