Wish Upon a Star by Jim Cangany

no, you didn't—"
    The kiss I planted on her lips kept her from finishing her
thought. I ran my tongue over her teeth as she dug her nails into my
neck. It took a few heavy breaths to cool down after she released
me.
    "You probably don't want to hear this, but it'd been nice to
have the chance to say goodbye to the car."
    "Would that help you let it go?"
    "A little, yeah."
    "I believe I can help you with that." Annie slipped off my lap
and grabbed her phone. "It's the least I can do. Come on. You're
driving."
    A half an hour later, I was in the parking lot of the BMW
dealership. Annie sauntered out of the building with a set of keys in
her hand. "My sales gal said she could stick around for another
couple of hours. Will that give you enough time?"
    My lips curled upward. I wasn't going to waste this
opportunity with a quick trip down the street and back. "Yep, and I
know where we're going. You ever had a genuine, Indiana pork
tenderloin sandwich?"
    On our trip to Edward's Drive-In, I transported Annie back
in time with stories of me and the car from my younger years. After
wrecking Mom's old car, it had taken me six months to get up the
guts to ask to use the new one. The only reason Mom said yes was
because I'd wanted to take a girl out on a date.
    "I'll never forget what she said when she handed me the
keys. She shook her head and said, 'I can't very well have my son
take a girl out on his bicycle, now can I?'"
    Annie got into the spirit of the moment when we pulled into
Edward's parking lot by insisting we order curb service. When the
waitress brought out our orders of tenderloin sandwiches and onion
rings, Annie's eyes grew wide.
    "There's no way I can eat that. I'm trying to eat healthy."
After folding the tenderloin in half so it would fit under the bun, she
took a bite. "Mm, that's good. Maybe I can eat it. Lord knows I
burned enough calories dealing with you today."
    I swallowed an onion ring. "Was I really that bad?"
    "I'm not going to lie. You hurt me."
    "I didn't mean—"
    She put her hands up. "I know that now. I also know I hurt
you. And for that, I'm truly sorry."
    "I know you didn't mean to hurt me, either. I don't know if
I'll ever find the words to thank you properly. That was one whale of
a surprise. I can never repay you."
    She put her sandwich in the paper tray and started fingering
the Claddagh ring I'd given her. "You already have."
    She elbowed me while she wiped a bit of tomato from her
chin. "Enough of this mushy stuff, McCarty. Tell me another
story."
    We spent the rest of dinner laughing over the story of when
some college buddies and I borrowed the car while Mom had been
out of town. We took it to Madison, Wisconsin, to watch our beloved
football Hoosiers play the University of Wisconsin. Of course, one
thing led to another and a Wisconsin flag somehow ended up in the
trunk, where I completely forgot about it. It was an awkward phone
call with Mom a few days later when I had to admit that the flag in
her trunk had been stolen when we'd taken the car without asking
her.
    "Mom was pissed, but Dad loved it. When I came home a few
weeks later, Dad had put the flag up in our rec room in the basement.
God, he loved telling his friends that story."
    On the way back to the dealership, we made a detour and
pulled up in front of a large, two-story, brick house. The property
was full of oaks and maples that were just starting to bud.
    After gazing at the house for a full three minutes, Annie
turned to me. "This is where you grew up, yes?"
    A lump had formed in my throat, which made it tough to
talk. "You should see it in the summer, when the flowers are
blooming. Mom loved spending time in her planter boxes and the
people who bought it have done a good job keeping that up."
    Annie grinned and turned back toward the house. "Then
you'll just have to bring me back this summer."
    I put the car in gear and drove us the rest of the way to the
dealership, lost in my own thoughts. Was Annie right? Did I have