It was impossible to stay away — you knew I couldn’t!
Last night after dinner, after I’d loaded the dishwasher, packaged the leftovers, scrubbed the sink, and wiped down the counter tops and my new stove top, I laced up my sneakers and headed a half-mile south to the elementary school where driving lesson No. 3 was under way.
I’d intended only a peek — really I did — but somehow I wound up in the back seat for a round of maneuvers.
I was good. Only one gasp escaped my lips.
And really, it wasn’t THAT hard to hold my breath for 20 minutes.
Seriously, Catherine did just fine wending her way around the school’s parking lot and bus turnaround. She managed to park and back out of a space, and she stopped at all stop signs.
And as impressed as I was with Catherine, I was blown away by a side of Basil I had not seen before (well, maybe I had when he was trying to teach me to drive a standard back when we dating. Then, as now, it was a hopeless proposition). He was calm and patient, never raised his voice, offered explanations and plenty of praise.
When Catherine pulled out of the school lot for a second time, Basil told her she was driving home. She balked at first, but then set her jaw and began a slow crawl north, the trip taking a solid 10 minutes. Twice she freaked at the sight of an oncoming car, but Basil talked her through it. And then she pulled into our driveway, where my car was already parked.
It was here that I really started to feel the lack of oxygen to my brain, but I somehow managed to avoid screaming, “BRAKE” as she closed in on the Taurus’ trunk. I didn’t need to after all; thanks to the support of her great coach, she stopped exactly where she should have.
They are out again now. I think I’ll stay here, maybe do a little reading on the patio or some other activity that allows for regular breaths.