Chapter 2I sat behind the wheel of my red sports car Honda S800, a vintage collection I had inherited from my father two years ago when he was forced to stop driving due to his age and illness. Turning the key in the ignition, I switched to a station devoted to hardcore jazz lovers, and cranked up the volume. I pictured the future without a father.
I drove out of the faculty parking lot toward Brockton Hospital a mile from my father’s house on Tarcomb Avenue, as Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald, and Miles Davis graced the airwaves. My father would be proud, I thought, watching him smile through Billie Holiday’s “Summertime,” or Miles Davis’s “I Fall in Love Too Easily.”
I drove along Main Street with the window down, the damp, humid late-August air saturating my skin and the hair on my ar
