get a load of the DMV. You’ll be singing a different tune then.”
The nearest DMV was some ways from the Social Security office, which meant a scenic drive across the county, giving Terry the chance to see more of his new surroundings. They bantered about the horrors that would await him when they reached the DMV.
“I want to ask you a personal question, and I don’t want you to take it the wrong way, okay?”
Terry didn’t know if he’d like what was coming, but he said okay.
“Have you contacted your family or friends back in England about what’s happened?”
Terry fidgeted in his seat. He’d thought about it after Holman had released him, but he had decided against the idea. He shook his head.
“Can I ask why?”
Terry exhaled. “My friends and family didn’t exactly approve of what Sarah and I were doing.”
“Is that why you came to the US?”
“No. It wasn’t a case of restless natives banging on the front door with pitchforks and flaming torches. People thought I was making a mistake marrying someone I’d met on holiday before I’d had a chance to get to know her. They were looking out for me, and I can understand that. What is it, one in three marriages fail?”
Oscar frowned. “Closer to one in two in the US.”
With that remark, Terry got the feeling Oscar was on the losing side of that statistic. “Well, there you are. They just care.”
Oscar was back on Solano Dam Road. He crossed the bridge spanning the dam and bore right with the road. The reservoir the dam held back was magnificent and millpond still.
“But if they care so much, why haven’t you let them know that something’s wrong?” Oscar asked. “They’d want to help, I’m sure.”
Terry didn’t want to answer this question. It was hard enough admitting the truth to himself, let alone to Oscar.
“Embarrassment,” he admitted. “I’m embarrassed. If I tell everyone, then they would have been right all along. I know it’s stupid and irrational, but I don’t want everyone thinking, Look at what sad, stupid Terry got himself into.”
“So you’d rather put your trust in strangers.”
“Can you blame me?”
“Not really. It’s a tough call either way.”
Oscar changed the subject by turning into a Santa Rita County tour guide. He talked about the history of the dam and several other landmarks. Before long, Oscar was pulling into the DMV parking lot.
“Remember,” Oscar said, “You gotta stay strong.”
Although only 10:30, the DMV was a cattle market. Three security officers were herding errant strays into various roped-off lines for something or other. Terry was glad he had Oscar as his guide or he would have wasted a lot of time.
Oscar grabbed a copy of the California driving rules and regulations and handed it to Terry. “Read that. You’ll need to know it for the written exam. Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time to read it.”
Terry jumped through the DMV’s hoops. In a battle of endurance, he waited in line to apply for his license then lined up to take the written test so that he could make an appointment for the driving test itself. It was early afternoon when they left.
“Thank God that’s over,” Terry said, pushing the door open.
“What did I tell you?” Oscar asked.
“It’s on a par with your immigration department.”
“When you get your license, whatever you do, don’t let it expire or you’ll have to do it all over again.”
Oscar held the door open for a teenager, obviously coming in for her first license. She didn’t acknowledge Oscar’s chivalry. From the stricken look on her face, her mind was focused on one thing and one thing only—her test. Her mother thanked him on her daughter’s behalf.
Oscar released the door then cried out. Somehow, he’d gotten his hand trapped between the closing doors. His hand was folded in half and his thumb flopped loosely against his palm at an unnatural angle. He cradled his hand to his chest.
The mother and
The nearest DMV was some ways from the Social Security office, which meant a scenic drive across the county, giving Terry the chance to see more of his new surroundings. They bantered about the horrors that would await him when they reached the DMV.
“I want to ask you a personal question, and I don’t want you to take it the wrong way, okay?”
Terry didn’t know if he’d like what was coming, but he said okay.
“Have you contacted your family or friends back in England about what’s happened?”
Terry fidgeted in his seat. He’d thought about it after Holman had released him, but he had decided against the idea. He shook his head.
“Can I ask why?”
Terry exhaled. “My friends and family didn’t exactly approve of what Sarah and I were doing.”
“Is that why you came to the US?”
“No. It wasn’t a case of restless natives banging on the front door with pitchforks and flaming torches. People thought I was making a mistake marrying someone I’d met on holiday before I’d had a chance to get to know her. They were looking out for me, and I can understand that. What is it, one in three marriages fail?”
Oscar frowned. “Closer to one in two in the US.”
With that remark, Terry got the feeling Oscar was on the losing side of that statistic. “Well, there you are. They just care.”
Oscar was back on Solano Dam Road. He crossed the bridge spanning the dam and bore right with the road. The reservoir the dam held back was magnificent and millpond still.
“But if they care so much, why haven’t you let them know that something’s wrong?” Oscar asked. “They’d want to help, I’m sure.”
Terry didn’t want to answer this question. It was hard enough admitting the truth to himself, let alone to Oscar.
“Embarrassment,” he admitted. “I’m embarrassed. If I tell everyone, then they would have been right all along. I know it’s stupid and irrational, but I don’t want everyone thinking, Look at what sad, stupid Terry got himself into.”
“So you’d rather put your trust in strangers.”
“Can you blame me?”
“Not really. It’s a tough call either way.”
Oscar changed the subject by turning into a Santa Rita County tour guide. He talked about the history of the dam and several other landmarks. Before long, Oscar was pulling into the DMV parking lot.
“Remember,” Oscar said, “You gotta stay strong.”
Although only 10:30, the DMV was a cattle market. Three security officers were herding errant strays into various roped-off lines for something or other. Terry was glad he had Oscar as his guide or he would have wasted a lot of time.
Oscar grabbed a copy of the California driving rules and regulations and handed it to Terry. “Read that. You’ll need to know it for the written exam. Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time to read it.”
Terry jumped through the DMV’s hoops. In a battle of endurance, he waited in line to apply for his license then lined up to take the written test so that he could make an appointment for the driving test itself. It was early afternoon when they left.
“Thank God that’s over,” Terry said, pushing the door open.
“What did I tell you?” Oscar asked.
“It’s on a par with your immigration department.”
“When you get your license, whatever you do, don’t let it expire or you’ll have to do it all over again.”
Oscar held the door open for a teenager, obviously coming in for her first license. She didn’t acknowledge Oscar’s chivalry. From the stricken look on her face, her mind was focused on one thing and one thing only—her test. Her mother thanked him on her daughter’s behalf.
Oscar released the door then cried out. Somehow, he’d gotten his hand trapped between the closing doors. His hand was folded in half and his thumb flopped loosely against his palm at an unnatural angle. He cradled his hand to his chest.
The mother and
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