Chapter 25 #2
“It’s full of grocery bags,” I retort, pulling out a reusable cloth bag to show him. “So we don’t have to pay for the paper ones.”
“Smart,” he agrees. “So no learner’s permit?”
“Well . . .” The truth is, my learner’s permit is in my wallet, which is in my purse.
Drew raises an eyebrow, patiently waiting for me to finish the sentence.
“Yes, I have my learner’s permit,” I admit. “But I haven’t driven in almost a year.”
“But your learner’s permit’s still good?”
“Well, yes. But you have a very nice car, that was probably very expensive—”
“Moderately expensive,” he corrects. “And full of safety features. It beeps at you if you try to cross the yellow line, or try to back into another car. It’s basically uncrashable.”
“There’s no such thing as an uncrashable car.”
“So you’re saying you don’t want to drive?”
I sigh. Part of me really does. “I just—”
“Look,” he says. “How about this? General Wolfe High School’s on the way to Superstore.
I’ll drive us there, and you can drive around the parking lot a few times.
It’s Saturday, so it should be empty. Then, if you don’t seem like a danger to yourself or others, you can drive us on to Superstore. Sound okay?”
“Yeah.” It actually sounds pretty good. Getting my driver’s license is on my list of things I’d like to do eventually. “Yeah, okay.”
I climb in the passenger seat, and pay careful attention as Drew starts the car and puts it in drive. In what feels like no time at all, we reach the high school parking lot, which is mercifully empty. He drives to the far end of the lot, then turns the car around and turns off the ignition.
“Your turn,” he tells me, opening his door to trade places with me.
I take a deep breath and unbuckle my seatbelt, then walk around and slide into the driver’s seat. I buckle my seatbelt, and on the passenger side, Drew does the same.
“Okay,” Drew says. Given the circumstances, he’s looking surprisingly calm. “You can move the seat forward if you want, there’s a lever on the left side.”
I reach down and adjust the seat, and he nods. “Great. Now check your mirrors.”
The mirrors seem fine, but I reach up and adjust the rearview by a few millimeters.
“Now, whenever you’re ready, put your foot on the brake and push the start button.”
“Yep,” I reply, but I don’t move.
I’m not ready. My heart is hammering, and my palms are so sweaty I’m not sure I’ll be able to grip the wheel.
I glance over at Drew. “Have you done this before? Taught anyone to drive, I mean?”
“No,” he admits. “But I’ve taught residents to operate, and this can’t possibly be worse.”
In spite of everything, I laugh.
“And unlike some of the residents, you have good spatial sense,” Drew continues.
“I do?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Come on, Ally, I’ve seen you play sports. Driving’s basically just another sport.”
“I guess so,” I concede.
He nods. “You gonna push the start button anytime soon?”
“Yeah.” I put my foot on the brake and my hands on the wheel, then push the start button. The car purrs to life.
I can do this.
I move the gearshift to drive, then gingerly move my foot so it’s hovering over the gas pedal. I glance at Drew, who’s looking at me expectantly.
I grit my teeth and push my foot down.
The car rolls forward a few feet. I push the gas again, and get a few feet more.
“That’s progress,” Drew says with a nod. “I think you’ll need a little more speed before you’re ready for Formula One, but you’re getting there.”
“Smartass,” I mutter as I try the gas pedal again. I manage a slow loop around the empty parking lot, and it gets easier by the minute. I drove quite a few times with my mom, so I’m not a total beginner. Some of the skills seem to be coming back.
After the third loop, I turn through the center of the lot and change direction. And after three loops that way, Drew suggests we try parking, and I practice pulling in between two yellow lines.
“It’s a lot easier when there’s no one else in the lot,” I remark.
“Yeah, but you could do it,” he tells me. “You driving us to Superstore now?”
I hesitate for a minute and think about the route. There are only two stoplights between here and the grocery store, and no left turns.
“Yeah, I am.”
I drive to Superstore without incident, and even manage to park. Granted, I chose a spot far from the door, where there were no other cars nearby, but it’s still an achievement.
“See?” Drew says as I turn off the ignition. “Piece of cake.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “No problem.”
But I’m damned proud of myself as I get out of the car.
We both agree that I’ve done enough driving for the day, so when we finish shopping, Drew drives us home. When we’ve put away the groceries, we go for a run along the waterfront. I consider myself a pretty good runner, but it’s clear that Drew is too, and he has no trouble keeping up with me.
I spend the rest of the afternoon making chicken lasagna while Drew goes into the hospital to catch up on some admin work. He makes it home at a reasonable hour, and we eat dinner together in front of the TV. He lets me pick the show tonight, and we watch Grace General again.
“No criticism of this episode?” I tease Drew, who’s been pretty quiet tonight. “Is the medicine more accurate?”
“More like I’ve gotten used to it,” he says. “Nothing these people do can shock me anymore.”
“But you have to admit, it’s good entertainment.”
Drew frowns. “Do I have to admit that?”
“I guess you don’t,” I concede. “I know you like it.”
He rolls his eyes and sets his plate on the coffee table. “I’ll admit that your lasagna was delicious,” he says. “Thanks for making dinner.”
“No problem.”
After we finish the episode, Drew grabs his laptop, which fortunately survived last night’s incident unscathed. While he works on his research paper, I curl up with a book.
And at around ten-thirty, Drew yawns. “I’m exhausted,” he says. “I think I’m going to head to bed.”
“Okay.”
He disappears down the hall, and five minutes later, I put down my book and head to the bathroom. I wash my face and brush my teeth, then pull on an oversized t-shirt.
Then I walk down the hall toward Drew’s room. The light’s on and the door’s wide open, which I take as a sign; up until last night, he always kept his bedroom door shut tight.
I still have some doubts—maybe Drew really is exhausted, and maybe he thought last night was a one-time thing.
But either way, I need to know. I walk through the door and find Drew lying on his back, with his hands crossed behind his head. A smile tugs at his lips when he sees me.
“That’s my t-shirt,” he says.
“Yeah.” It’s the t-shirt he lent me the first night I was here. “I assumed it was a long-term loan.”
Translation: I’m planning to keep it.
“You assumed wrong,” he says sternly. “I’d like it back immediately.”
I grin and pull the shirt over my head, and Drew catches his breath. I’m not wearing anything underneath it.
“Come here, Ally,” he says, and I do.