On the Saturday morning after Halloween, I was awaiting my doom by the fire hydrant when my dad walked up with an empty shopping bag in his hand. “Hey, Dad.”
“Good morning, honey.” He gave me a one-armed half hug and kissed my temple. “I’m going to Orwasher’s for some morning buns. You want anything?”
“No, thanks. I have a driving lesson.”
“How’s that going, sweetheart?”
“So far, so good, but I think it’s about to get a lot harder,” I said, thinking of my promise to Val.
“I’m so proud of you. You’re very brave.”
Val rolled up and hopped out of the car. “Are you ready? Today’s the day!”
“Val, this is my dad, Matthew Mason.”
“Hi, Mr. Mason.”
“Hello, young lady. Today’s the day for what?”
“Your daughter is going to drive today. No getting out of it this time.”
“I’ve been observing Val so far, but today I’ll be behind the wheel,” I told him.
He must have seen the absolute panic in my eyes. “Courage, ma fille,” he said and gave me a kiss on the cheek. He ambled down the sidewalk and called back, “Take good care of her, Val. Without Hope, we are all lost.”
I turned to Val. “A well-worn dad joke in our family.”
“Wouldn’t want to get lost. I’m glad I have Hope.” She flashed that confident smile and I couldn’t help returning a wobbly one of my own. “The seat’s nice and warm for you,” she added.
I had made a deal with Val and there was no getting out of it. I took a deep breath and sat in the driver’s seat. Just as she reached for her seat belt, Val’s phone started to buzz from its place in the cupholder.
“Let me just put this on silent.” Val scooped it up. “Oh, sorry. Can I answer this real quick?”
“Take your time.” Anything that would forestall starting this lesson was okay by me.
“Hey, Arturo, is Luna all set for tonight?” Her notable excitement dimmed. “Oh no. Poor kid. What are her symptoms…Okay…No, it doesn’t sound like it…Lots of rest and fluids…Yeah, it’s okay…Tell her I hope she feels better and not to worry, we’ll do it another time…Don’t worry about that…I’ll find someone to take her ticket or sell it or whatever…I gotta go. I’m with a student…I’ll call Luna later, okay?”
She seemed lost in thought as she held her phone in her hand, but then she snapped out of it and turned to me. “Okay, you’re driving today. What do you need to do first?”
“Shit myself?”
“Incorrect. Try again.”
“Throw up?”
Val pressed the button that rolled my window down. “If you feel it coming on, please spew to the left. I have four more lessons after yours and it would really suck for the car to smell like vomit.”
“Has that ever happened?”
“No, never. Sweaty palms and foreheads galore, but no puke.” Her smile faltered. “The only one getting sick today is my niece. But she’s eight. No chance of her getting behind the wheel and tossing her cookies all over it.”
“Is everything okay?”
“She’ll be fine. Sounds like a touch of gastro. But she won’t be able to come to The Lion King tonight.” Disappointment rippled over Val’s face. “It was going to be her first Broadway show. Now, back to the matter at hand. Have you adjusted your mirrors?”
“Wait. You were going to take her to her first show? That’s so nice.”
“Yeah, I did it for her two older brothers too. They loved it. Luna was really pumped. I feel bad she’s not going to make it. Now, enough stalling—”
“I’ve never seen The Lion King. I missed my window. My first show was Cabaret. I was seven. Confused isn’t even the word for it.”
Val laughed. “I have no knowledge of this window you speak of. The Lion King is amazing. This will be my fourth time.”
“You’re a good aunt. I can’t imagine seeing a kid’s show four times.”
“Everyone needs to see The Lion King. It’s terrific whatever your age. But we’re done talking about it. Put your foot on the brake and press the ignition.”
I did as I was told.
“See? You took the first step. You can do this, Hope.”
I really liked the way Val said my name. It sent a little shiver up my spine.
“This is a perfect day for you to start. Traffic is very light. Now put the car in reverse. You’re going to need to back up about two feet before you can swing out of this spot.” Val checked behind us. “Now, gently release your foot from the brake and slowly press the gas. Don’t worry, I’ve got you. I can brake if we need to.”
I gingerly placed my foot on the gas pedal and pressed down what felt like a centimeter. The car moved backward. “Holy shit.”
“Good. You’re doing good. Check your mirror. Do you see how you’re getting closer to the car behind you? Brake now.”
I stomped on the brake and the car rocked with the force of it.
“Good. Maybe not so hard next time.” There was laughter in Val’s voice. “Okay, now we’re going to move the car out into the street. Put your blinker on, check your mirror, put the car in drive, check your mirror again.”
With Val reminding me of all the steps, it was like ticking things off a to-do list. “No one is coming.”
“Okay. Turn the wheel and give it a little gas. Gently. Slowly.”
I didn’t know how it happened, but ten seconds later, Val and I were moving down the street approaching the intersection where a red light waited. Sweat beaded at my hairline. Val had been right about that.
“You’re doing great. Slow down now for the red. Where do you want to go? Left onto Second Avenue or straight?”
“I don’t know,” I croaked. My heart was beating as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. “Just tell me what to do.”
“Fine. Put your left blinker on, we’re heading downtown.”
“Oh, God.” Why hadn’t I opted to go straight? Second Avenue was a wide thoroughfare. It was like turning onto the interstate from a country lane.
“It’ll be fine.”
I made the turn, and there were several cars waiting in three lanes at the light. I aligned the car with the middle lane and left about two car lengths between us and the car in front. The light turned green and suddenly there were cars whooshing past on both sides. I didn’t move.
“Press the gas. Let’s go.” Val’s voice was calm and reassuring. It made me believe I could do this.
The car moved as I commanded with my foot. Cars continued to speed past us, and I realized I would eventually have to change lanes to get off this fucking street. Anxiety flooded me and I took my foot off the gas. “I can’t do this. How do people do this? How do sixteen-year-olds do this?”
“What’s your favorite pasta?” she demanded.
“What?”
“Your favorite pasta. Don’t think about it. Just tell me.”
“Gnocchi.”
“Gnocchi?” Even through my fear, I could hear Val’s disbelief.
“What’s wrong with gnocchi?”
“Nothing at all. It’s delicious, but it’s not a pasta. Put your foot back on the gas. We can’t stop here. You’re doing great. What’s your least favorite vegetable?”
“Broccoli.” I gave the car a little gas and we picked up speed, but I had no clue how fast we were going.
“Okay, good. Broccoli. Why?”
I answered automatically. “My mother overcooked it every time when I was a kid. I never eat it now.”
“Describe what that overcooked broccoli is like.”
“I can’t. I’m busy trying not to die right now.”
“Hope, describe it.” Her voice was calm, but it crackled with urgency.
“Pale green! Droopy. Floppy. Limp. Lying on the plate like it had collapsed on a fainting couch.”
“Awesome.” Val laughed and—unbelievably—I found myself laughing too.
“Why the hell are we talking about broccoli right now?”
I could feel Val looking at me. “It was probably very relaxed resting on that fainting couch of a plate. Don’t you think?”
“I guess.” I gripped the steering wheel harder and slowed again as a taxi merged into our lane. When was she going to stop talking about—
“You’re relaxed like broccoli, Hope.”
As soon as she said it, my shoulders dropped from up near my ears. I took a deep breath. I could be my mom’s gross, over-boiled, unseasoned broccoli. I eased my grip on the steering wheel.
“Whenever you get nervous—think broccoli. You’re loose and limp like broccoli.”
“Okay.” I bobbed my head like a lunatic. “Broccoli.”
“You’ve got this.”
“I’ve got this.”
“Now we’re going to move into the right lane.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. Broccoli.” She narrated the steps to prepare to change lanes, and I followed them almost without thinking. Before I knew it, the car had drifted into the right lane.
A man on a bike skittered into my peripheral vision and I flinched. “Where did he come from?” Then I immediately muttered, “Broccoli.”
Val nodded, also in my peripheral vision. “Good. Let’s turn here. Watch for pedestrians—and bikes.”
Somehow, I successfully turned onto a less-busy side street.
“Pull into that loading zone and put it in park.”
We sat for a moment. I let my skull drop back against the head rest, my hands unusable rubber appendages in my lap. “Is it over? My lesson?”
“No.” Val chuckled. “It’s only been about seven minutes.”
“Really?” I closed my eyes. Only seven freaking minutes? Then I felt Val’s hand rest on my shoulder.
She was looking right at me, grinning from ear to ear. “Take a minute. Bask in your success.”
“If you had to grade me, what would it be?”
Val thought about it. “I’d give you a solid B.”
I’m not ashamed to admit I’d been a grade grubber all through school. “Not an A minus? Or a B plus?”
Her smile seemed indulgent. “I’m sticking with a B. It’s your first time. There’s room for improvement, right? But you overcame your fear. You drove and you did so well. I’m proud of you.”
Warmth swept through my body. I hadn’t felt that in a long time. “Thanks.” My cheeks were no doubt a few shades lighter than the color of a beet. “But seriously, can my lesson be over now?”
“Not a chance. Someday you’ll thank me for cracking the whip now.” Val faced forward again. “Now I want you to pull out onto the street, but I’m not going to remind you of the steps. Let’s see how you do. And don’t forget—”
“Yeah, I know. Broccoli.”
Val laughed. “Exactly.”
* * *
Forty minutes later, I stopped the car in front of the fire hydrant as Val directed. I had a raging headache and my shirt was damp with perspiration, but I had done it. My head fell against the steering wheel with a thunk.
“You still have a few minutes, but I didn’t think you’d mind if we cut it a little short today.”
“Mind? I’m putting you in my will. Thank you.”
“You did great today.”
When my spine could support the weight of my torso again, I sat up and pulled out my phone to check my calendar. “So our next lesson is—”
“Before you go, I wanted to ask you something. I feel like the window is always open for The Lion King. How would you like to see it tonight?”
Val’s opaque expression was giving me nothing. What was she asking? Did she want me to buy the tickets from her? I had no desire to see The Lion King.
Then she started tapping her thumb against her thigh. Was she nervous? “If you don’t have plans, that is. I really don’t want to sit there alone.” She looked away. “And you don’t have to pay. You’d be doing me a favor.”
Oh. Was this supposed to be like a date? “You and me and The Lion King?”
“If you want…”
While I was indifferent to the show, I hadn’t really been indifferent to Val since the moment we met. She reminded me of the most popular woman at the hotel pool when I went to the Dinah years ago. The life of the party, talking to every girl, brimming with a confidence no woman could withstand. The one I stared at from behind my sunglasses—not even once contemplating making a move. I never even knew her name. My friends and I took to calling her dyke in shining armor. But that woman was a dream, a fantasy, and Val was right here sitting next to me. I liked her. And the idea of expanding our extremely limited relationship was really appealing. But… “Would it be okay?”
A crease appeared between her dark brows. “What do you mean?”
“Well, we have this student-teacher thing. Would we be violating some kind of driving instruction by-laws?”
“Oh.” Val’s face cleared. “We’re both adults, right? I feel like we can see a show and still keep things professional during our remaining lessons together. But if you have a problem, I get it. Never m—”
“No, no problem,” I said swiftly. I wasn’t an idiot. “I’d love to come. Should I brush up with the Disney cartoon? I don’t even remember what the story is.”
“No, I think you should go in cold.” She put her hand on the door handle. “Thanks for saying yes. Should I pick you up?”
I’d had enough of being inside a car today. I would take the train. “How about I meet you there?”
Val nodded, and we both got out of the car. She switched over to the driver’s seat and put the window down, flashing that wide grin that I was starting to get addicted to. “See you tonight.”