My Lucky Groom by Ginny Baird Page B

driving with the kids on board.”
    She nodded and cranked the engine with trembling fingers. “Where to?”
    “We can take a few spins around the block, then maybe head down to the Mall.”
    Ventura swallowed hard, knowing the area that housed the Smithsonian museums was always jam-packed with tourists. Pedestrian tourists. Especially in summertime.
    “But first,” he said with a smile, “we’re going to have to get out of this parallel parking spot.”

    Sweat beaded on Ventura’s forehead as she attempted to maneuver the beast of a vehicle for what seemed like the hundredth time. She’d inched back and forth, and back and forth…but didn’t seem be getting anywhere nearer to extracting them from this tight space between the minivan up ahead and the tiny red sports car behind them.
    Jason checked his cell for the time, comparing it to the clock on the dash. “Maybe I should do this part.”
    “Nope, I’ve got it.” Ventura sent the car’s rear tire into the curve with a lurch, then rammed the pedal. She sharply yanked the wheel to the left and they bolted forward. A taxi blew its horn, its driver yelling an insult in some foreign tongue.
    Jason drew a breath, his eyes wide. “Well, don’t stop in the middle of the street. Keep going!”
    And she did, taking off with a squeal as Jason clung to his shoulder harness.

    Later that afternoon, Ventura drove the kids to their lessons. She checked her rearview mirror, spying them nestled in matching car seats. Little Ricky held his violin case, while Elisa clutched a soccer ball. Ventura’s eyes flitted to the GPS, thinking things weren’t going too badly. They were nearly to their first destination and hadn’t had a mishap yet. Not only that, the kids appeared to be finally warming up to her.
    “We want Jason!” Ricky whined suddenly out of nowhere. She checked her mirror to see his little lips pushed out in a pout.
    “Jason’s writing a business proposal,” she said evenly. “I already told you.”
    “What about us?” Ricky asked combatively.
    Ventura spoke in an effort to reassure him as well as herself . “Your dad thinks I can handle that,” she said, bringing their vehicle to a halt at a traffic light.
    Seconds later, Ricky yelped. “Stop!”
    Ventura glanced in the backseat to see Elisa grabbing Ricky’s violin case.
    “Elisa, be nice.”
    She defiantly met Ventura’s eyes, then bopped Ricky over the head with her soccer ball.
    The boy hollered, “Ow!”
    “Elisa!”
    A horn blared behind her, and Ventura saw the light had turned green. She drove forward just as the SUV’s wireless phone began ringing. She pressed a button to answer it, thinking it might be Richard or Jason.
    “He pinched me!” Elisa yelled.
    “Ricky!” Ventura said.
    “Ventura?” It was Charles on the other end of the line. “Is this a bad time?”
    “She’s a meanie!” Ricky hollered from the back. “Meanie-Meanie Jelly-Beanie!”
    Just then, several more horns blared, and Ventura rammed her foot on the brake. The SUV skidded forward and dragged to a stop, inches shy of hitting another car’s bumper. “The worst,” Ventura told Charles, breathless with fright. “I’ll have to call you back.”

    Two and a half hours later, Ventura limped from the SUV, feeling like she’d just emerged from Boot Camp.
    Jason paused on the steps to Richard’s townhouse, clutching an express mail package. “Everything all right?” he asked, studying Ventura unsurely.
    “Oh yeah, fine! Just fine,” she said, tugging each of the children by the hand and leading them indoors.
    His eyes flitted to the curb to survey the SUV for damage, before his face became awash with relief. “I’ll be back in thirty minutes,” he told her, scampering away.
    Ventura herded the kids upstairs and toward their rooms.
    “Now remember to change quickly!” she told them. “Your clothes are all laid out for you on your beds.”
    The kids disappeared, and Ventura picked up the heavy laundry