Sisters Like Us. Сьюзен Мэллери
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tied up at work, kiddo. Sorry. Let’s reschedule for some time next week.
Tears burned in her eyes. Becca blinked them away, telling herself to get over it. She knew she couldn’t depend on her dad and she was stupid if she thought he would ever change. He always had something else he had to be doing. As for getting tied up at work—that was a complete lie. He was a podiatrist, which meant scheduled appointments. He wasn’t a real doctor who had actual emergencies.
She shoved her phone back in her pocket and wiped her cheeks, just in case. Before she could scramble to her feet and escape to her room, Lucas pulled up and parked in front of her house.
He walked up the path and sat next to Jazz on the stairs, then patted the dog and smiled at her.
“Hey, kid.”
His words were way too close to what her dad called her. “I have a name,” she snapped.
“Yes, you do.” She waited for him to call her on her attitude, but instead he asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m fine. You’re here early.”
“I was in court for most of the day. It’s boring, but it’s a shorter day. You didn’t answer my question.”
“I said nothing was wrong.”
“You also lied. What is it?”
She stared at the top of Jazz’s head. “It’s just...” She swallowed against the tightness in her throat. “My dad blew me off again. I need fifty supervised hours to get my license. Mom’s too busy and my dad swore he would help, but he never shows up.” She rolled her eyes. “He said he was stuck at work. With what? An ingrown toenail? He doesn’t care about me anymore. I don’t think he ever did. He just walked out like I didn’t matter and now he won’t teach me to drive.”
It was so much more than she’d wanted to say, but there was no way to call back the words. She folded her arms across her chest and did her best to hold in the pain.
“Interesting,” Lucas said casually. “It’s a drag about your dad, but there’s time. It’s not like you need your license right away.”
She rocked forward and dropped her gaze to her Keds. “Yeah, well, Great-Aunt Cheryl didn’t just leave me the dogs. There’s a car.” She glanced at him and started talking quickly. “It’s a really good car. Ramon, her boyfriend, said it was in great condition and they’d always taken care of it. It’s safe and has air bags, and it’s not like my dad’s going to buy me a car and Mom sure can’t afford it.”
She sucked in a breath. “I don’t think Dad remembered to tell Mom because he was sick and she hasn’t said anything. The car is paid for. I know there’s going to be insurance and gas and stuff and I don’t know how I’m going to deal with that, but right now I need my license.”
Lucas nodded his head. “That’s a lot.”
“I know, right?”
He stood and called to Jazz, sent the dog in the house, then looked at Becca. “Okay, let’s go.”
“Where are we going?”
“To practice your driving.”
“My mom’s not here.”
“I’m not taking you on the freeway, kid, I’m taking you to an empty parking lot to see what you know how to do and how we get along. If it goes well, I’ll talk to your mom when we get back.”
She stared at him. “Then what am I going to...” She spun to face the sleek, white Mercedes convertible. She didn’t know much about cars, but she knew that one cost a lot. Maybe as much as their house.
“No way.”
He shrugged. “It’s insured. You’ll be fine. Do you have your temporary license?”
“Let me get it.”
She raced inside and dug her wristlet out of her backpack, then hurried back outside. Lucas stood by his car, the driver’s door open.
“The car’s not going to drive itself,” he called.
Excitement and hope fluttered in her stomach. If Lucas would really help her get her hours, then she wouldn’t have to depend on her dad or bug her mom. She vowed to do the best she could on their mini lesson so he would want to teach her more.
She joined him and got in the driver’s side. He sat next to her and explained how to set the seat and the mirrors.
“The car sits really low to the ground,” he told her. “It’s going to feel different than your mom’s SUV or your dad’s sedan. Also, it has a more powerful engine, so be careful when you hit the gas.”
She nodded, then wiped her suddenly damp palms on her jeans.
“Drive to the high school. Classes are out and there will be plenty of room to practice in the parking lot.” He winked. “Okay, start her up.”
She absolutely could not believe he was going to let her drive his car. Her mother had practically had a seizure the only time they’d practiced together.
She pushed the start button, then tried not to jump as the engine roared to life. She kept her foot on the brake as she shifted to Drive, then checked the mirrors four times before slowly pulling out onto the quiet street.
Mischief Bay High School was less than a mile away, but it took Becca nearly ten minutes to drive there. She stayed well under the twenty-five mile per hour speed limit and came to a full, lingering stop at every sign. By the time she pulled into the parking lot, she felt a little sick to her stomach.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” she admitted.
“Are you scared about driving or the car?” Lucas asked.
“Both.”
“Driving gets easier with practice. Right now you have to think about everything you’re doing. Once a few things become automatic, you’ll be more comfortable. As for my car, like I said, it’s insured. Okay, let’s start with the basics. Drive to the end of the parking lot, do a three-point turn, drive back and pull into that parking space.”
Becca tasted bile. “That’s your idea of the basics?”
He flashed her a grin. “I’ve seen Clueless, kid. At least we’re not going on the freeway.”
“I’m never going on the freeway.”
Thirty minutes later, Becca confidently circled the parking lot, making neat figure eights. She made a sharp turn ten feet in front of the flagpole and carefully backed into a parking space before turning to Lucas and laughing.
“I did it.”
“You did good. I’m impressed.”
“Thanks. This car is great. It drives so easily and I’m in love with the backup camera. Thank you for helping me. I really had fun.”
“Me, too. Want to continue with the lessons?”
“Of course.”
Lucas had been calm the whole time. When she’d messed up, he’d had her stop so they could talk about what had gone wrong. She was still nervous about driving, but less so than she had been.
“I’ll talk to your mom,” he said. “If she agrees, then we’ll keep going. Oh, how are your grades?”
Becca felt herself flush. “They’re, um, okay.”
He looked at her without speaking.
She ducked her head. “I’m getting a couple of Cs and a few Bs.”
“I thought you were a good student.”
“I am.” Or she had been. Lately she hadn’t been that interested in school. What was the point? No one paid attention or cared how she was doing.
“I