* * * * *
"Hey by the way," Dad started, "Laura, did you borrow my car on the 15th?"
"What day was that?"
"A Tuesday."
"I never take your car on a Tuesday. My flowers come in on Wednesdays. I only take it on Wednesdays and Saturdays."
"I think you must have had it. I got a parking ticket on King Street."
"Why would I have been on King Street on a Tuesday? There aren't weddings on Tuesdays."
"How much is the ticket?" Ellen asked.
"Well where were you parked?" Mom interjected.
"It's $25!" Dad exclaimed, as though there were three zeros following the five. "I wasn't parked," he said adamantly, "I haven't been on King Street. That's why it must have been one of you." The group of us youngsters pulled out our phones to check our calendars. "I know it wasn't me. I never go downtown."
"You go downtown all the time," Ellen argued, "The printers, the lawyers... y'all go to dinner most Fridays." Dad let out a nervous giggle and thought on this idea.
"Oh!" I looked up from my phone, "I had an eye doctor appointment on the 15th."
"Good, so you took my car?" Dad suggested with a grin.
"My eye doctor is in Mt. Pleasant." I said, "Why would I have taken your bus?"
"Well I don't know." Dad said. The collective pushback on his accusation was beginning to make him unsure. "Well then you must have taken it." he said to Mom.
"I didn't take it!" she said with great offense.
"Well what were you doing that day?" Dad asked, his wannabe defense attorney side kicking in.
"I don't know!"
"Ah ha!" he squealed.
"No ah ha! I don't need your car," Mom retorted, "I have my own."
"Wait a minute," Lee interjected. He turned to Ellen. "When was the AC out in your car?"
"Ah ha!" Dad exclaimed.
"No! No!" Ellen's trusty grin spread across her face. "I didn't! I borrowed Mom's car while it was in the shop."
"Why are you grinning?" Mom asked.
"I don't know!" Ellen shrieked, covering her mouth with her hand.
"Well then what was Mom driving?" I asked.
"I knew it! Pay up, baby!" Dad said with triumph.
"Oh you be quiet. That wasn't the same week. That was way earlier." Mom said, pressing her lips together and shaking her head.
"One of you did this," Dad said to the table, "You parked at meter 101 at 2:00 in the afternoon and sped off while they were writing the ticket. Lu, you borrow the car most, it was probably you."
"But I was at the eye doctor. I'm the only one at this table with an alibi! Maybe Brett did it. He's always buying wood. The kid loves beams."
"Where is meter 101?" Mom asked.
"Hey! Don't drag me into this," Brett exclaimed, "I was at work that day. You know, that job thing most people have." The table let out a you've-been-served style "Oohhh!"
"You've been working from home since March." I retorted.
"Oh!!!" the table roared in response as the ball was thrown back to Brett.
"No, I went in that day to print the the Battery plans. Remember, I picked you up from the eye doctor and we went for lunch."
"Oh," I said softly, "You're right. He did. We met at the doctor and went to lunch."
"What car did he pick you up in? Where did y'all 'eat lunch' that day?" Dad asked, obviously looking for holes in our story.
"Is there a city meter map?" Ellen asked.
"It was his Jeep." I said. Brett settled back into his chair, vindicated and no longer a suspect. He gave me a sour look.
"I looked online for which meter that is. There was nothing." Mom answered. Silence fell over the table.
"Lee?" Dad asked.
"We drive the same car, man." he said.
"It's $25 Dad, and we all know it was you." Ellen said. Everyone at the table giggled except Dad.
"It was not!"
"Wait wait wait." I interrupted. "The day I went to the eye-doctor, Mom went shopping with her sisters. I was invited but couldn't go." I mulled over the offer I turned down due to my eye appointment. The table waited silently for my revelation. "Y'all went to furniture stores in Mt. Pleasant!" I shrieked, "Maybe Mom took Dad's car in case she bought something big!"
"Ah ha!" Dad gasped dramatically. "Pay up, Woman!
"I rode with Carolyn," Mom near-shouted, "and you know I never buy anything." She was indignant.
"It was you," Ellen repeated to Dad, "You can't remember anything with that medicine you're taking and even you've admitted it."
"That's different. I remember the important things," Dad replied, " I have not been on King Street. Haven't been on King Street, Jerry!" Dad exclaimed in his best George Costanza.
"Dad, the other day I had to remind you that you were babysitting Olivia," I pointed out, "She was upstairs sleeping and you forgot." Dad let out a hearty and embarrassed belly-laugh.
"It's true," he admitted to Ellen, whose face had dropped, "I forgot she was up there. I was going to the grocery store." He continued to giggle.
"Well ok then," Mom said, very unamused by the confession, "It obvious it was you."
"I didn't! I wouldn't do that!" he declared.
* * * * *
The mystery of The Parking Ticket has yet to be solved. Dad marched his citation over to the DMV to fight for his innocence but the car on record was his. We're still waiting for their conclusion.
Mom and I deliberately walked King Street in search of meter 101. We strolled the length of that bustling road checking the meters for their numeric labels. Finally we made it to the hundreds. Meter 101 is on upper King, the restauranty portion of that strip. Realizing you never drive Downtown and find a parking spot right in front of where you're headed, the next few blocks worth of establishments all became suspect of Dad's destination. Admittedly, those aren't restaurants he frequents and it was a bit far from the printers. The only other options include women's fashion, the local West Elm, and a wedding venue that I haven't worked since June.
Where was a Union-Barton-Eisenhauer coming from when they sped away from parking enforcement?
We may never know.
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