“Why don’t you put one of your cars in your garage?”

He looked at her blank-faced for a minute while his mind raced for an answer. “It’s locked, and I can’t find the key,” he finally said. “I can’t get the door unlocked.”

“And why are the garage-door windows painted black?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never noticed. Weren’t they always black?” He ran around the car and opened the door for her. “Anyway, it’ll be easier for me with only one car.” He took keys off his key ring and handed them to her. “You drive, and I’ll ride along with you to pick up Bob. I left him with Kevin this morning.”

She reluctantly climbed into the car and put the key into the ignition. “I don’t know about this,” she said, peeking over the black leather steering wheel. “It feels a little racy for me.” That was an understatement. It was like being in the cockpit of the Batmobile. She felt like she should be wearing a garter belt and black leather boots that came up past her knee and had high spike heels.

“It drives like any other car,” Steve told her. “Just go slow at first until you get the feel of it.”

She put it into reverse and peeled out of the driveway, laying an eighth of an inch of rubber on the asphalt.

Steve made a sound that went something like “Ark” when the seat belt caught, squeezing the air out of his lungs.

The car came to a standstill in the middle of the road. Daisy licked dry lips and put her hand on the gearshift knob. She slanted a look at Steve and smiled. “I think I’m going to like this,” she said, putting the car into first.

Kevin and Bob were waiting on the front steps when Daisy drove up. “We’re out of food,” Kevin told Daisy. “Bob ate everything.”

Half an hour later Daisy and Steve wheeled several carts full of groceries out of the supermarket. When they reached the car Daisy found a pair of men’s navy briefs hanging on her antenna.

She gingerly picked them off, holding them between thumb and forefinger. “I’m glad I wasn’t here when he took them off,” she said, dropping the briefs onto the pavement.

“It’s the car,” Steve said. “It draws underwear. You’ll get used to it after a while.”

They stored the bags away, Daisy got behind the wheel and backed over the briefs. She looked at the flattened navy material and smiled. “Roadkill,” she said, driving over it one more time as she left the parking lot.

Supper consisted of canned soup and grilled cheese sandwiches—lots of them.