“We can’t avoid it any longer, you know,” Val said, her tone dispassionate.
I was resigned. “I know.” I knew this day would come.
Parallel parking.
It was Christmas Eve eve, and Val had scheduled my license exam for December 29.
“If you don’t nail parallel parking, you won’t pass the road test.”
I nodded. I still had a few hours of lessons to use up, and they were earmarked for parking practice and road test prep.
We were parked by the fire hydrant on my block. Val had put bumper protectors on the car. I understood why they were there, but I’d be lying if I said my pride hadn’t taken a little hit at the sight of them.
“We’re going to drive up to the office. I’ve set up a little parking practice area there.”
This was a surprise. “Your office?”
“Yeah.”
“The C&C office? We’re not doing it here?” I looked around. There were zero open spots on my block. It made sense. “Where is the office?”
“Washington Heights.”
“Near where you live?”
“Not too far.” Val looked at the clock on her phone before sticking it in her pocket. “It’ll take about twenty or thirty minutes to get up there. Except for giving you directions, I’m going to stay quiet while you drive. Then I’ll rate your performance, okay? And the rest of your time will be practice.”
“You’re going to give me a grade? Awesome.” Changing lanes, three-point turns, merging, highway driving—I’d become pretty comfortable with all of it, thanks to Val’s excellent teaching. Parallel parking was the final hurdle before the test. “Be prepared to award me your highest score.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” Val’s affectionate grin had me staring, and wanting to sneak a kiss, but then her expression turned severe and she gestured to the road. I focused on getting us there without any mistakes.
The driving school office was about as close to the northern tip of Manhattan you could go without ending up in the Harlem River. We turned onto a side street and on my right side, two black C&C vehicles with student driver signage were parked with space between them marked off with orange traffic cones. “That’s where I’ll be practicing?”
“Yes.” She exited the car, moved the cones onto the sidewalk, and got back in again. “Pull up so that your side mirror is aligned with the second car’s side mirror and I’ll talk you through it.”
“Wait, what’s my grade? For driving here?”
“I’ll tell you after you practice.” She pointed to where she wanted me to go, and I obeyed.
“Parallel parking is a breeze once you have a few rules down. It’s all about geometry. How were you with geometry, star student?”
“I aced it, of course.” Star student was nice, but I preferred to be teacher’s pet.
Val took me through the steps. It was hard to get those angles right. After my third attempt, an older man stopped to watch, leaning heavily on his cane. Val gave him a little wave. I hoped he would move along, but he propped himself against the building and showed every sign of settling in to spectate.
“You were closer that time. Good try. Pull out and do it again.” She patted my knee.
“I’m getting a little flustered with an audience.”
Val followed my eyes to the man on the sidewalk. “That’s my dad. Don’t worry about him.”
“He’s your father? I’m never going to be able to do this now.”
“Why not?”
“He’s like the principal of the school, right? Talk about pressure.”
Val laughed. “He’d love to hear you call him the principal. Throw it in park. You should meet him.” She lowered her window. “Pop, come here.”
“No, please don’t.” I wanted to meet Val’s dad, but not after failing three times to parallel park. But he slowly shuffled toward the curb, and there was no avoiding it. Val and I got out of the car, leaving it half sticking out of the parking spot.
“Pop, this is Hope. Remember I told you about her?”
“Ah, the one who has to learn to drive before she goes to California.” His voice was deep and sonorous, with the lilt of an accent. My hand was engulfed in both of his as he shook it. I now knew where Val got her smile from—his was identical to hers. “Esperanza,” he crooned in a smooth baritone.
“Come on, Pop. Nobody wants to hear you sing.” Val turned to me. “Esperanza is Spanish for Hope.”
“You have a lovely voice, Mr. Caceres.” He certainly knew how to turn on the charm.
“Now I know why you are gone all night, Val. Mírala. Tan hermosa. Night after night after night I have the place to myself.” He winked at me, and then turned his big smile toward Val, whose cheeks were a very cute shade of red.
“Why is your school named C&C?” I asked him, aiming to put Val out of her misery. “Is it for you and Val? Caceres and Caceres?”
“My wife and I started this business years ago, so it was Cesar y Camila. But now, maybe you’re right. It should be papá Caceres”—he pointed to himself—“y hija Caceres.” He pointed at Val.
“We can talk about that later, Pop. Hope is still on the clock.”
“I’m struggling a little bit here,” I nodded toward the awkwardly angled car.
“Do you know about the disappearing triangle?” he asked me. “Did you show her, Val?”
“I was just getting to that.”
“Let me.” He brushed Val aside. “Get in, Esperanza. Learn from the master.”
* * *
My eyes blinked open and the clock said 4:12 a.m. As the day of my departure grew nearer, my sleep had gotten increasingly restless. The middle of the night was now when I became anxious about all the things that were still on my to-do list and how little time I had left to cross them off. At least I had Val’s regular breathing beside me to calm me and lull me back to sleep.
I sat up and gazed at her sleeping form. Our evening had been a series of revelations about Val’s life. And it had all been wonderful, but I also had to try hard to not let my despondence sweep me away. After her father taught me the trick of the disappearing triangle in my side mirror, I had successfully parallel parked twice. Still needed some practice there.
When my lesson was done, Val had moved the cars into the little lot next to their office, and her father offered to take us to dinner. We slowly walked a few blocks to a restaurant called El Floridita, where her dad was welcomed as if he were the mayor. Curious people stopped by the table to say hello, and Mr. Caceres introduced me as if I were a long-lost family member. The staff gave us the royal treatment with a never-ending procession of delicious Spanish dishes, and eight hours later I was still stuffed.
Mr. Caceres told stories about Val and her brother at Christmas and all the traditions they had with their extended family here in Washington Heights and in New Jersey. It sounded like they had a good few days of eating and celebrating ahead of them. I had laughed a lot, but underneath the joy was a mournfulness that I had beaten back at the time but was now shoving its way to the front of my mind.
This idea I had been toying with—proposing that Val accompany me to Los Angeles—was now obviously a no-go. Even if no one had said it outright, it seemed like her father and everyone in the neighborhood expected Val to take over the driving school. When her dad waxed rhapsodic about finally being able to spend his winters in DR, it was clear Val would be the one running the business. It wouldn’t be fair to even ask her.
“Why are you up?” Val’s sleepy voice made me jump. She rolled toward me and grasped me around the middle.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I can hear those wheels turning. What’s going on?”
“Nothing. Just thinking about tonight.” I scooched down so we were facing each other.
“What about it?”
I couldn’t tell her anything I’d really been thinking. “I like your dad. I didn’t know we had that in common. Both living with our parents.”
“Yeah. You may have heard—it’s not easy to find a decent place to live these days.”
“Right. I have heard something about that.”
“But at least you have your own space here.” Val yawned. “It’s not bad living with him. He does all the cooking. He’s a great cook.”
“That’s a pretty good deal.”
“Yeah, he’s already started tomorrow’s dinner, and Christmas too. We’re bringing all the food and the presents out to my brother’s place. Christmas Eve is just Arturo’s family, my dad, and me. Then it’ll be a big crowd of relatives the next day.”
“Sounds nice.”
We were quiet, but Val was still awake. I could tell.
“Did you…want to come with me? Celebrate Christmas with my family? You’d be welcome, you know.”
“Oh, Val, that’s really kind of you, but I can’t. I have to spend the holiday with my parents.” I moved closer and her arms went around me.
“I figured, but I thought I’d ask anyway. I feel like we have to make every moment count. We’re running out of time.”
We could have all the time in the world if she would come with me. I drew back so I could see her better in the murky light. Fair or not, I was going to ask. “Would you ever consider coming out to Los Angeles? You worked out there once, right?”
“I’ll admit, I’ve thought about it lately. But I can’t. Not for the foreseeable future anyway. I’m sure you picked up on my dad’s succession plan. Even if it’s not forever, I’m going to have to take over for a while.”
I nodded and went back into her arms. Hopes dashed. I would not cry.
“I’m sorry, Hope. You make me think about all kinds of what ifs. But my reality is here in New York.”
“I figured,” I said. “But I thought I’d ask anyway.”
“I’m glad you did.” She pressed a kiss against my hair. “This wasn’t what I imagined my life would become when I was a kid. I think my father has forgotten that he was the one who urged me to become a nurse, to see the world, to go far away from the neighborhood.”
“How do you see your life?”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever be a nurse again, but I don’t see myself teaching people how to drive for the rest of my life either. Right now, I feel like I’m letting life happen to me instead of making a life. Like you are.”
“Like I am?”
“Yeah, you’re taking control. You’re not happy here, so you’re taking steps to make your happiness somewhere else. I admire that.”
How could learning that Val admired me feel so wretched?
“I just have to trust that I’m doing the right thing for right now.” Her voice changed, became breezier, signaling the end of our heavy talk. “Maybe the universe will send me a sign when it has something else in store for me.”
Even though we had gone against our agreement to remain in the present, I was glad Val had opened up to me. I felt even closer to her, and it made me want to give her all of myself.
She propped her head on her hand, and her voice was playful. “I’m pretty awake now. How about you?”
How did she know me so well? Here she was giving me the perfect way to express my feelings without saying a word. I cared for her so much. Could she see it shining out of me in this darkened room?
“Yeah, I’m up.” I pushed her onto her back and straddled her. “Want to watch TV? Play cards?”
“Maybe later. Any other ideas?” She sounded breathless already.
“One or two.” I licked her nipple and then took it between my teeth. Her swift intake of breath sent desire spiraling down into the deepest part of me. Los Angeles had a lot going for it, but it didn’t have Val. For the next little while, I wasn’t going to think about how much I was going to miss this, and how empty I was going to feel when I left.
* * *
A few hours later, after a long shower together, Val had to go. There was only one lesson scheduled today, but it was early.
She waited for me by the door as I threw on some sweats to walk her to her car. I opened a drawer in my grandmother’s writing desk and took out a tiny wrapped package.
She eyed what was in my hand and said, “I got you a present too.” She tilted her head toward the door. “A car.”
“You did not.”
She laughed and produced a gift from her pocket about as big as her palm, wrapped in red paper with snowmen all over it. Inside was a matchbox car—a white corvette.
I took it out of the packaging and ran it up her arm. “Vroom vroom.”
Her smile faded a little, replaced by an expression I couldn’t identify. “This is how I’m going to picture you. Driving along the Pacific Coast Highway or in Beverly Hills or somewhere, your sunglasses on, in a white corvette.”
“Remembering to check my mirrors and my blind spot as I do. Thank you. I love it.” I handed her my gift. “And here’s something for you to remember me by.”
She laughed again when she opened the box, but it was more of a sad chuckle. I had searched high and low and finally found it on Etsy. An enamel pin in the shape of a green stalk of broccoli. I had bought two of them.
I fastened one to her fleece, above the C&C logo. Then I put the other one on the lapel of my coat. “You’ve given me new words to live by—I’m broccoli, and I can do anything. I’m going to remember that forever.”
She put her hand over it, her eyes melting with tenderness. “Thank you.”
“Merry Christmas, Val.” We hugged for so long, she was late to her only lesson of the day.