36. Mackenzie
Mackenzie
I almost don’t go to our weekly girls’ night, but Uncle Victor kicks me out. He says the grapes won’t ripen at night, even if I watch them, and he’s right.
I’m last to arrive, because Daphne isn’t coming. She and Luke have gone away for a few days. Abbie has gone home to Vancouver again, so it’s Cameron, Willow, Merrie, Sylvia and me. Sierra comes swinging out of the back just after I arrive, shaking a box.
“Can I open it yet?” she asks Sylvia.
“Maybe I should open it first. Jake isn’t known for his love of kids.”
My ears prick at the mention of his name. Jake sent Sierra a present? That’s different.
“He’s awesome,” Sierra enthuses. “He didn’t yell at me once on Sunday.”
I remember that Jake was going to teach Sierra to drive a stick.
“You say that even though he wouldn’t let you keep his sunglasses?” Sylvia teases.
“They looked soooo good on me.”
“Never ask a man to surrender his Ray-Bans for you,” Cameron advises. “You might as well ask for a kidney.”
“We’ll add that to your list of dating advice,” Willow says with a smile.
“There’s more?” Merrie asks.
“Never sleep with a man who won’t use a condom,” Willow says, ticking them off on her fingers. “Never stay with a man who won’t pick up feminine hygiene products for you when you have an emergency and he’s already at the store.”
“Never expect more than his own satisfaction from an asshole,” Cameron supplies. “Although, in some cases, that might be enough.”
“Did Jake let you drive his car?” I ask, interrupting the list because I haven’t heard.
Sierra rolls her eyes and tosses herself into a chair, still shaking the box. “Only after hours and hours and hours of lessons.”
“Lessons?” Willow invites.
Sierra sighs. “I had to prove that I could drive the tractor first. Around and around the field, up and down, stop and go, up the slope to the barn and back down again. Then he popped the hood on the Jetta. He said I had to understand my machine and take responsibility for it if I was going to drive.”
“Amen, sister,” Cameron says.
“He explained everything, then I had to explain it back to him to prove that I was listening. Spark plugs. Pistons. He made me check the oil and top it up, and the wiper fluid too. Then we sat in the car and he talked about everything. All the dials and lights. It was ages before he even started the car, then he drove up and down the lane, explaining everything he was doing.” This was evidently a sin beyond endurance.
“But that was nothing compared to when I got to drive.”
“Did he lose his temper with you?” Cameron asked. “Men always lose their shit teaching women to drive.”
“No,” Sierra said. “He was cool. He just kept repeating. Listen to the engine. Look at the RPMs. Listen to the engine. Feel the gear box. Listen to the engine. He’s a big fan of that last one.
” She shook her head. “And the weird thing was that I finally got it. I could hear when it was time to change gears. And once you hear it, you can’t not hear it. ”
I smile, reminded of my dad teaching me to drive.
“Ain’t that the truth?” Merrie says, presenting a platter of puff pastry tarts filled with something that smells amazing. “I had an idea. Let me know what you think.”
Willow takes one and has a small bite. “Chicken?”
“Tajine with quinces and lemons. Seemed like a natural.”
“So obvious,” Sylvia teases and they grin at each other.
“Did you drive Jake’s car?” I ask again.
“Finally!” Sierra says. “I spent the whole afternoon being drilled in the Jetta, and we even went on the road. After that, we did the same with his car. Feel the gear box. Push in the clutch. Listen to the engine. I drove his car up and down the driveway six times then he said I could drive it into town to get mom. Mike nearly fell over.”
“Mike has never driven Jake’s car,” Sylvia notes.
“Then Uncle Jake does like me.” Sierra grins and shakes the box again.
“You must have done well with the Jetta,” I say.
“And I was rocking it with his car until we got here. I only got into third because we didn’t go very fast, but still.” She winced. “Then I blew it. I parked in front of the café, but let out the clutch before I turned off the ignition.”
“Ouch,” Merrie says.
“You stalled it?” Cameron asks.
“Right there!” Sierra mimicks the car lurching forward then stalling, complete with sound effects.
“And I thought he’d be mad, but Uncle Jake laughed.
He said everybody has to do that once or twice.
Then we had to recite together: Stop the car.
Put it in gear. Pull the emergency brake.
Turn off the ignition. Release the clutch.
” She does recite this in a sing-songy voice, moving her fingers as if she’s conducting an orchestra. “Stop, gear, brake, key, clutch.”
“Words to remember,” Merrie says.
“Don’t forget: Gear down for the curve, and gear up coming out of the turn.” Sierra sighs. “I hope he lets me try again. It was fun.” She considers the box. “I wonder what he sent me.”
I have an idea that I know.
Sylvia gives Sierra a pair of scissors and she cuts the tape on the box, then tearing it with impatient fingers. Then she crows in triumph and pulls out the item inside. It’s a dark case, which she opens to reveal her own pair of Ray-Bans.
No note, of course. The man isn’t good with the details.
Sierra doesn’t care. She’s modelling them, even with the tags hanging from them, checking out her own reflection with pride.
I don’t actually care about the lack of a note, either. I love that he taught Sierra to drive.
“We should make Uncle Jake move back to Empire,” she says. “Then I can drive his car all the time.”
“Don’t count on that,” Sylvia says and points her toward the door. Mike is standing on the sidewalk beside his truck and he lifts his hand in greeting.
“I’ve got to show these to Una,” Sierra says, then waves to all of us as she grabs her things and heads out.
Make Jake move back to Empire. There’s a plan I can get behind – but only if he’s coming to me, too.
I check my phone yet again. No calls, no messages, and it’s charged.