My stepsister’s mother, Marylou, had a mysterious Swedish friend named Erica, she drove a light metallic blue Cadillac Eldorado convertible, so roomy it deserved its own zip code, that car made you happy just to look at it. Although I don’t remember Erica ever speaking, on hot summer nights she would drive up and we would all pile in and take a drive with the top down. My stepsisters and I would be in the back seat, listening to WRKO, singing and choreographing our dance moves all the way to Swampscott Beach.
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