Page 34 of The Dragon’s Accidental Manny

There were two cars in my driveway, and I hated both of them.

The first was a rental that Cam had been driving during his pregnancy. It smelled of fake pine, and my beast complained, saying nothing could best the scent of a pine forest.

The car was suitable to drive our three kids to and from school and Cam wherever he wanted to go. When we went out as a family, we drove my sedan, with its sleek lines and leather seats. I adored it, and some nights before Cam came into my life, I’d go to the garage just to trail my fingers along the side, sit inside, and inhale that leather smell.

You love it like Cam loves his car.

Huh? When did you get so perceptive?

The second car, the one my beast was talking about which never made it into the garage, was Cam’s rusty hatchback, parked in the only way he knew how, at an angle. He hadn’t driven it in ages and refused to sell it.

Won’t it be squished with four children? my dragon grumbled.

Exactly.

The rental was a temporary solution because I wanted to buy a new one and Cam refused to give up his current car. Our compromise was the rental when his belly got so big that he had to grip the roof and ease into the driver’s seat.

But neither of us would have the time or the energy to buy a car when we had a newborn and three other children. The big decision had to be made now.

“I think it’s time we talked about getting a new car.”

Cam was cutting Jack's toast into soldiers so he could dip it in his runny egg.

“The rental’s fine.”

“Babe, we’ll have four kids and you. How will you fit in that...” Cam side-eyed me, “that car you’ve loved and tended so carefully for years?”

“It has seats, Price. And four wheels, a steering wheel. You made sure it was safe to drive. ”

I couldn’t disagree with that reasoning. But it was old, and it had a unique smell which the kids liked, saying it was a mixture of Cam, burned fabric, and deodorant.

But as I drank my coffee and Bea debated whether she’d give up the violin and learn the piano, there was a loud whining and scrunching from outside the open kitchen window. It sounded as though a metal object had a tummy ache. This was followed by a thud and crash.

“What was that?” Cam did a 180 turn holding a knife. The peanut butter coating the knife flew across the island, and the kids and I ducked before it splattered on a cupboard door.

We all raced to the window and stared at the car we’d been discussing.

Oh, maybe it heard you, my dragon suggested.

Mmmm, was the car throwing a tantrum?

“That’s not good,” Isla observed. “Poor Berty.”

Jack waved to the car and said, “We’ll make you better.”

But my mate frowned and asked if I’d messed with it.

“No.” I took him in my arms. “I know how much you care about Berty, and I would never intentionally destroy him.”

He rested his head on my chest. “That car got me through hard times, and I refuse to give it away just because I no longer have to count every cent.”

Jack tugged Cam’s oversized pregnancy shirt. “One, two, three, four, five. There are five scents here, Camcam. I can count them.”

Cam laughed and kissed our son’s head. “You’re right, and I count them every day making sure they’re all close by.”

My mate pulled back and cupped my face. “Okay to a new car, but not okay to sell mine. We keep it and Bea can learn to drive in it when she’s old enough.”

“Bea gets a car?” Isla folded her arms. “Do I get one too?”