Safe

 Went for a walk in the neighborhood on Easter.

Not our neighborhood. 

Our son's neighborhood. 

We took a stroll around the blocks that he calls home. He showed us houses that he admired. The ones he wished, in another phase in his life, that he might like to own. He pointed out to us the places where trees had fallen in the last storm. We saw streets that had been blocked by falling branches and debris. He pointed out a patch of land that had a story to go with it. Amid a sea of upscale McMansions, this one seemed to be falling into disrepair. Maybe it was haunted?

So we continued to wander, coming upon a house with a driveway full and overflowing with BMWs. Our son, ever the car enthusiast, spotted a guy coming out of the house preparing to get into one of the upscale autos. "Nice 328," he called out to the owner. The guy stopped, nodded and replied: "Thanks."

And suddenly I was ten years old again. Once more I was hostage to an interaction with a stranger about something I knew nothing about. My father, my son's namesake, was gifted with the ability to chat up unknown visitors that his grandfather used for decades in sales and being an overall bon vivant. I stood on plenty of curbs and in a lot of hallways as my dad connected with people he could add to his internal rolodex. 

My son was networking with the car enthusiasts in his neck of the woods. The conversation meandered into more model numbers and engine sizes and at some point my eyes began to glaze over as I shifted my weight from one leg to another, very conscious of the fact that I had an urge to pull on the hand that I was holding. Which was my wife's. When I was a kid, I would have tugged on my father's arm in hopes of dislodging him and breaking the spell of this encounter. 

We waited patiently for the young men to shake hands with assurances of connecting up at some point later to talk even more cars. When it was over, I felt relief wash over me as my stomach unclenched. I was an adult again. My son led us down a few more lanes and eventually back to his house where he made us some pasta and we relaxed and ate dinner on his couch. 

Safe at home.