Grace

I

I was born in the back of a broken down Lexus, which was pretty ironic considering the circumstances. My father was a traveling salesman, and my mother was a barista at a local coffee shop. Together they never really made a ton of money, but as far as I can recall my life was pleasant. I'm sure mother and father had some issues, and looking back on it, father wasn't around much after my tenth birthday. Yet no matter what my parents had going on, they always made sure my life was happy and safe.
But back to the Lexus. It was a wedding gift to my parents from my fathers best friend, Georgie. Georgie was a rich man who made a fortune off of phone scams and petty theft. The day in particular in which I was born was an odd one to say the least. It was warm according to my mother, which was very strange considering how my home town of Manix had a reputation of having rather brisk temperatures. I remember how my father would gaze at my mother as she retold the story of my birth. It was the middle of July, a Sunday to be exact. She was getting ready to go to church, my father was in his recliner; eyes glued to the outdated television set. 'Charlie!' She yelled from their  small bedroom. 'The baby is here!' My mother would always giggle when she would tell this part. My father jumped up from his recliner and practically ran to the bedroom where he picked her up and ran her out to the car. My father would always say in his hard, firm voice 'I'm so surprised we didn't get pulled over. I was going well over the speed limit.' His tired eyes would brighten for a split second and his narrow lips would curve into a smile as he began to feel a bit of what I assumed was nostalgia. My mother would reach for his hand as she finished out the story 'I remember screaming in pain, telling your father to go faster, when I felt the car start to put. "Charlie?" I asked "what's happening?"' She turned to him, he smiled and picked up where she left off 'Well Janine,' he began, 'I recon we are out of gas.'