First Drafts: Driving with Dad
I was supposed to write but am sick so I'll share a short draft instead...
It’s summer in the early aughts, specifically the part in summer when doctors stop writing summer camp evaluations but haven’t started back-to-school evaluations. This is clear cause Taylor has only recently been gifted a pink iPod mini. It’s chunky and the size of her palm. Even though she is verging on tween status, dad will still buy Taylor pink things to match her sister’s green things. Taylor hates pink. Mom knows this. But Taylor has resigned to being the daughter with pink things around her dad. Her dad gifted her the iPod and will allow her to transfer all the music in her collection to the mp3 player using his desktop while she’s with him. In short, it’s the time of the year when Taylor spends six weeks with her father.
Dad lives out of New York State, although the specifics of what out-of-state means change yearly. So, in late July or early August, there’ll be a drive to pick up Taylor at a neutral location, like his mother’s home. Then they’ll make the hours-long drive to wherever he’s living at the time. This time it’s Newport News, Virginia. I know we’ve reached Virginia, when we stop at Sonic for dinner. There was only Sonic when Dad lived in Virginia.
Dad, Taylor, and her sister Lindsay are in a car going somewhere. Important conversations start in the car. Dad feels like a father when he’s in the car with his children and so imparts wisdom at these times. He’s also the easiest to be around when everyone is in the car and Prince, or The Prince of Egypt Soundtrack, or that mix Lindsay made him is on the stereo turned inappropriately high. So, it seems the opportune moment for the worst question Taylor could possibly ask.
“Why is my last name Michael and not McCoy?”
The response is something about children being named after their fathers. I cannot be certain. But that response isn’t important.
“Could I change my last name from Michael to McCoy to match that family?”
It’s astonishing this memory isn’t more explosive, given subsequent arguments about who can lay claim to Taylor. Alas, dad only decides to respond with his own brand of humor.
“Oh, so you don’t want to be related to me and Lindsay anymore, huh?”
He continues to use his brand of humor to isolate me from my sister from Maryland to Richmond until I give up the idea and never ask about name changes again.