Cadillac Convertibles & Hubcap Havoc

  

   

The Mysterious Misplaced Hubcap My mom once said that my step-father Frank Lies would have made a good con man. He was extremely curious about and genuinely interested in people--how they thought, what they were interested in, and in my case, how to handle me when I was less than forthcoming when I believed it could keep me out of trouble.    Picture it: Graduation Day! After the ceremonies, I jump into Dad's latest Cadillac, put the top down, pick up my bestie, Alfie, and we circle by friends' homes and other favorite haunts yelling and singing at the top of our lungs. I'm so damn cool I drive with my arms through the steering wheel. Until one arm gets caught on the column and we careen into a ditch midway between the farm our horses are on and Derby, KS, where our boyfriends are.  The dust cloud! The hubcaps flung far and wide! We can find only three of them. At the Sweat twins' dad's filling station, we get dusted off and the three hubcaps put on.  When I get home, Dad asks, in his disarming way--"So how was the ride?"  "Great."  "The car give you any trouble?" "Nope." "You sure?" [Long pause as I realize I'm somehow busted} I admit I did have a little trouble, everso briefly ending up in a ditch and losing a hubcap. He gave me that Cheshire Cat grin and said he was glad I told him about it. And by the way, I didn't lose a hubcap. One was already missing. Unfortunately, they weren't on the same three tires as when I left that afternoon. Speaking of ditches, you might ask Sister-Cousin Carol Dick Jansen why it's a bad idea to lie about sneaking out to see the boyfriend you're grounded from wearing a white blouse if you miss the last stop sign on the way home.  [Stay tuned for more Cat and Mouse Memories with Dad.] BONUS: If you'd like a copy of my short story "Trophies" on which the novel TROPHY GIRL is based, just email me at marlis.broadhead@gmail.com and put "Trophies" in the message line.  And while you're at it, make a nice day, why don'cha. Marlis