Driving Miss Crazy

Chapter OneTHE INSISTENT BEEP OF THE MICROWAVE TIMER sounded from the kitchen. Adrian Adams checked his watch. “Whoops. There's the backup timer, kiddo. We'll have to go through the checklist again on the way to the door.” “Dad!” “Water bottle?” “Check.” “Sunscreen?” “It's raining, Dad.” “It could clear up. Sunscreen?” “Check.” “Umbrella?” “Check.” “Boots?” “Dad, I'm wearing them.” Charlie, his seven-year-old daughter, sighed. “They're on my feet. Look at my feet, Dad. These are my boots.” Adrian looked down at her blue-eyed, elfin face staring up at him. His little girl's dark brown hair peeked out from under a bright yellow rain hat, the perfect match for her yellow Dora boots, which were, sure enough, on her feet. “See?” For a moment, Charlie's exasperated expression reminded him so much of her mother it stole his breath. Then he checked his watch again. “Well, let's just hope you have everything else for school.” “If I don't, it's probably in the emergency pack you put in Mrs. Tibbet's office.” Adrian thought a moment. “Right. I'm wondering if maybe we should have another emergency pack in the gym office with your inhaler in it?” Charlie sighed again. “Why don't you just use one of the emergency packs from the car?” “No, we have to have two in case you go on a last-minute overnight.” “You never even let me go on one overnight, even to Uncle Danny's.” “We're going to be late.” Adrian grabbed her waterproof backpack and the lunch box he'd filled with as-healthy-as-possible stuff, and led the way out the front door. Their simple brownstone here in Cathedral Heights was a little large for just two, but it had been in the Adams family for decades and held a lot of memories. Sometimes more than he cared to think about. “Can I ride in the front?” Charlie pleaded as she followed him down the stairs. She jumped in a puddle on the sidewalk with both feet, making a deliberate splash. “No, you ride in the back. It's safer.” “But then I can't choose the music and you always play that old music and it drives me crazy.” “Hey, the Beatles are classic and timeless.” He tossed her lunch and backpack into the opposite seat. “You'll thank me someday when you have an appreciation for real music.” Charlie climbed into her booster seat, and Adrian buckled her in, the back of his blue driver's uniform absorbing the scattered, cold drops of light spring rain. “Miss Tutti says Murzart is real music and she makes us play it on the recorder and we stink.” Adrian adjusted the straps on her car seat. “Miss Tutti is a hundred years old. She wouldn't know good music if it dropped on her head like a piano.” Charlie's eyebrows arched with interest. “Can I tell her that?” “Of course not.” Adrian shut her door and slid behind the wheel of his company's Mercedes S550. “Unless she gives you a bad grade this semester,” he muttered. He started the car, checked all the mirrors twice, and pulled out into the street as the rain-sensing wipers began whumping across the windshield. As a driver for Hallmark Sedan Service, he knew pretty much every side road, one-way street, and unmarked alley in the whole Washington, DC area. It was early spring, and the cherry blossoms were just starting to bud—the best time of year in the capital next to fall. Of course, he always thought of Karen when he thought of cherry blossoms. Every spring she would cut a few branches from the small, brave tree in their tiny front yard and place them in the vase on the front hallway table. The blossoms—her favorite—were the first thing you smelled when you came into the house. That and whatever new dish Karen had created for dinner. Adrian smiled at another memory. He had never thought oven-fried pickles would be good, but they were. He turned onto Easton Road, which meant Charlie's school was only two blocks away. Spring was always a little bittersweet for them both. Losing a wife was bad enough. He figured a little girl losing her mom was probably worse. But Charlie never seemed to let it get to her. It wasn't like she never talked about it. Charlie kind of wore her heart on her sleeve. Even though it was hard for him to hear her talk about Karen so glibly sometimes, the counselors said it was better that way, so she didn't keep everything all bottled up inside. He definitely didn't want her to end up on some sour psychiatrist's couch someday, blaming life for taking her mom from her, having run off to join some cult in Montana that worshiped endangered chipmunks or something. It had been over four years now, and Charlie seemed to be doing okay, but he wasn't going to take any chances with her. There was nothing wrong with playing it safe. If that meant no sleepovers at other houses or wearing kneepads when she rode her bike, so be it. One big heartbreak in life was enough for anyone. He pulled into the drop-off lane of Van Allen Elementary School. He got out to get the door for Charlie while she unbuckled herself. “Here we are, miss,” he said with a fake British accent after opening her door. “Thank you, Jeeves,” she said as she hopped down, just as she always did. “I would give you a tip, but I'm only seven and I don't have a job yet. Maybe if you let me work at Aunt Beth's candy store?” He shook his head. “You'd eat her out of business.” He thought for a moment. “You know as long as I'm here—and I'm going to be here for a long time—you'll never have to worry about anything, right? I'll always take care of you.” Charlie smiled as she hoisted her backpack on her tiny shoulder. The speech was familiar. “I know, Dad. Bye.” “I'll see you to the door.” Her shoulders slumped. “You don't need to. It's right there and Mr. Coggin is there and my friends are there and you're going to embarrass me again.” Adrian stopped. “Again? Since when do I embarrass you?” Charlie just gave him a dirty look that somehow still seemed sweet and then headed up the two steps to the door. Adrian's phone was vibrating in his pocket. He fished it out and saw it was his work number. He answered while watching her chattering with one of her school friends as she went through the school's open double doors. Maybe he should mention tighter security to the principal? “Hey, Kevin,” Adrian said into his cell. “What's up?” “Are you on your way in?” his co-worker asked on the other end of the line. “Yeah, just heading over. Why?” Adrian got in the car and started it. “I'm not late yet.” “No, it's not that. I thought I'd just give you a heads up. I think Martin is going to talk to you. I just overheard some stuff, and I didn't want you to get blindsided.” “What stuff?” Adrian's brow furrowed. “About your route and your hours. You know, the same stuff they brought up last fall.” Adrian rotated the wheel and turned back onto Easton after checking for traffic. “I'll be there in fifteen minutes.” Great. First the medical expenses and now this. The last thing he needed was more bad news.