It started innocently enough. Stuff like late night phone calls and whispered hushes when I left the room. I would watch my husband, David, as he perused craigslist throughout the day, and his wandering eye was ever-present in the car. Finally, I had to know. Who is on the other line of these phone conversations? When he muttered “Dani,” I lost it.
“Who the hell is Dani?”
“It’s short for Daniel, and he’s a mechanic.”
“You know I’ve always dreamed of owning a Mustang.”
And that’s how my husband first let me know just what is on his mind most days…vintage cars. It’s not women, or men for that matter. A Mustang, in particular, a Mustang named Sally.
Danny is a major part of his life, just not in the way that I once thought. Thank goodness for that. But it’s still a total time suck. Sorry, I couldn’t help myself there. David and Danny are rebuilding a 1966 Mustang that started out as a mere shell. Every day, David is online searching the internet for authentic parts and his buddy Danny is caressing the car back to life. It is taking forever.
When it’s over, I know that Sally will be a real beauty. We’re talking a shiny silver with a deep blue stripe. She’ll have all original parts with some major upgrades. She’s looking darn good for a Sixties babe. Months have passed, but I know that when Sally finally comes home, I will welcome her. Every day, when I ask for an ETA, I’m told “two weeks.” It’s been a hella long two weeks.
It’s all of the other girls in David’s life that I’m having a really hard time with. You see, David wasn’t content with just Sally. While looking online, he came across Beemer Betty. Betty has looks that only a mother could love, but David sees the potential. I see wasted money, a hunk of metal, and more late night phone calls with Danny. There’s also an eighties Mustang that has yet to be named, and an El Camino to boot. It’s exhausting trying to keep up.
Everyone says that I should be happy that my husband has a hobby which is an outlet for his creative energy. I just wish that it didn’t have to live in my backyard. I feel like the jealous girlfriend and I’m being replaced. I would slash the tires but they’re already flat. And besides, Betty doesn’t have a working engine. Sally doesn’t even have an engine. Sigh.
I keep asking David when it will be over. But he says that it’s so much fun, he may just buy more. In my dreams, I see cars parked on our front lawn, in our driveway, and on our kids’ play structure. There is no end in sight. There are cars for miles. I am not okay with this. Would you be?
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