But every chase needs a car, and so ours has baby car. Dad did a commercial and got the VW convertible in exchange when I was 17 years old, and she lived to a ripe old age to see Alex and me get married, and then some. She was a blue with purple highlights depending on how the sun hit her.

If you weren’t lucky enough to have known baby car at some point in her life, that car knew how to have fun. Once she hit 100,000 miles, she stopped counting how far she went–the perfect Ferris Bueller’s Day Off car.

Oh, the places she would go! The shore. North Carolina. Florida. Nantucket. NYC. Long Island. Upstate New York. And when Alex’s girlfriend came to visit him, in desperation, we went to Maine.

The car would take me safely wherever I wanted to go and then break down if need be. Even when the tire flew off the car and rolled onto 95 North, she made sure I had pulled over on the side of the interstate first. (For the record, Jiffy Lube didn’t tighten the bolts when they checked her tires, so that incident wasn’t her fault).

And in the case of Alex, baby car and I drove to visit Alex in Long Beach when he still hadn’t decided about the girlfriend or me. We walked along the Boardwalk and enjoyed the ocean. Everything that seemed so right for me made no sense for Alex. He had a huge decision to make.

So he told me it would be best if we didn’t see each other anymore. It’s almost as if I was expecting him to say that. I told him I understood, and I got in baby car and drove out of his life.

It was the ultimate test of the saying, “If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it’s yours. If not, it was never meant to be.”

I knew I couldn’t coerce him to make this decision, and I didn’t envy his predicament. I have to give it to myself. I handled the situation with maturity and grace. Not sure where that came from since I was the same basketcase who couldn’t handle being in the same state as his girlfriend when she visited Alex, so I hopped in baby car and drove to Maine.

I had no time even to be proud of how well I handled things with Alex when I slowed down to get through the toll booth, and I noticed steam billowing out of my engine.

And all I could think of is, “Damsel in distress; it’s the oldest story in the book. Alex would think I made this up..” I didn’t even believe it. It was a movie I’d seen a million times coming to life.

When I got to the nearest gas station, of course, the mechanic said he would need to order a part that would take several days to arrive. Most definitely, the car was undrivable.

But the shock came with the realization: it was the first time baby car had ever fallen apart on me when I needed her then more than ever.

As embarrassed as I was, I had to call Alex and ask if he’d pick me up and give me a ride to the train station, and then he never had to see me again.

But he laughed and said he’d be right over. And when he arrived and got out of his car, it was like that moment when Meg Ryan says to Tom Hanks in You’ve Got Mail, ‘I wanted it to be you so badly.”

Only it was our moment to come together. Thanks to baby car, she ensured we had our steamy ending.

But there’s a steamier ending, still.

After baby car stopped remembering how far she’d gone and her seats were bald with wear, she could only harp on the old adventures and her sacrifice to get Alex and me together.

She became Alex’s station car, and driving 10 minutes from the house and back again must not have been her idea of fun.

One day, she got Alex to the station, and when Alex pulled into his parking spot, he had just enough time to escape the car, keys still intact. She went up in flames, mindful that she didn’t harm Alex or any other vehicles in the parking lot.

She had a mind of her own. And all we had left to show for our happy life with her were the burnt keys. I smile when I think of what adventures she’s on now in that great big highway in the sky.