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I scootch closer until I can check out the positioning of her feet. She’s wearing well-worn white Chucks.
“We’re going to slide the gear into first.” With a nod, I guide her hand over the stick. “That’s it. Now, you’re going to slowly release?—”
When she removes her foot from the clutch too quickly, the car stalls. Her fingers tighten around both the steering wheel and the stick until the knuckles turn bone white.
My voice stays gentle, not wanting to make the situation worse. “It’s fine, Fallyn. No big deal. Let’s try again.”
A puff of air escapes from her. “This is more difficult than I remember.”
“It’s just going to take some time for it to come back to you, but it’ll happen. And then you’ll get your license and Miles’ car will be yours. Just keep the end goal in mind, and don’t get frustrated.”
“I’ll try not to.”
I give her a couple of seconds to pull herself together. “Ready to try again?”
With a sigh, she jerks her head into a reluctant nod.
“Start up the engine. With your foot on the clutch, you’re going to shift into first gear and then slowly lift your foot as you press down on the accelerator with the other. Once the car begins to move forward, release the clutch.”
I keep my hand firmly wrapped around her warm fingers as I guide her into gear.
We get a dozen or so feet before the car stalls, and she groans.
This goes on for about twenty minutes. I can tell that she’s getting discouraged by her inability to smoothly shift the car into first and then second without it dying by the way her lips have flattened into a thin line.
“You’re doing really well,” I tell her, attempting to keep the situation positive.
“Liar,” she grumbles. “I’m terrible at this.”
“Like everything else, it just takes practice. Do you want to take a break or keep going?”
She glances at me. “Just a little bit longer?”
“Sure. No problem,” I say easily.
Fallyn doesn’t realize that I’d sit here all damn night if that’s what she wanted.
It takes another fifteen minutes, but we finally get to the point where she’s able to maneuver the parking lot in circles. She gradually widens them until we reach the outer edges of the pavement. The shift from first to second and then third is a bit choppy before she attempts to downshift.
Then she repeats the process all over again.
Each time gets a little bit smoother.
I’m impressed.
“You’re doing really great!”
A tiny smile curls the edges of her lips as her gaze stays trained on the windshield. When another vehicle enters the parking lot, her fingers clench both the wheel and gear. I give her hand a slight squeeze, hoping to calm her nerves.
I glance at the blue mini-van. “There’s no need to worry. They’re on the other side of the lot. Just keep going.”
When she hesitates, panic flashing across her face, I murmur, “You’re fine. We’re not in any danger of having an accident.”
“I know.” A fine tremble weaves its way through her voice.
“Okay. Good.”
She downshifts before slowly rolling to a stop and then moving the gear into neutral. Once the vehicle comes to a standstill, she releases a steady puff of air.
