Learning to Drive... Him Crazy (2 page)

"I'm leaving this skirt and blouse on. I
like it," she said, twirling around. She watched the three-tiered
skirt fly out as she spun. "It's a little shorter than some of
mine, but other than that, it's comfortable."

"Yeah, at least it's short. That's one thing
it's got going for it," Kelli admitted. "And the blouse looks good
on you. I still think you should unbutton another button,
though."

"That would look slutty."

"It would look inviting," Kelli
corrected.

"I'm certainly not inviting him anywhere on
our first date, so it's fine like this," Alana insisted.

"Zheesh. No wonder you're still a virgin,"
Kelli said.

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"It is! Alana, you're twenty-four. I don't
know how it is in Ireland, but here in the United States, that's
practically unheard of."

Alana frowned at her friend. "Actually, I
don't know what it's like in Ireland. I've been here since I was
twelve. And being a virgin at twenty-four is not common, I know,
but it's certainly not something to be ashamed of. I just haven't
met the right guy yet. Besides, some men respect that in a
woman."

"Yeah, we'll go with that. And why do you
think you have to be married to a guy before you can have sex with
him? This isn't the 18th century."

"It's a commitment thing with me. I didn't
say I have to be married, but I do have to be committed to him. If
he's the right man for me, he'll understand that."

"Whatever. He should be here in ten minutes.
I'm leaving. All kidding aside, good luck, Alana. Have a good time
tonight."

"Thanks, Kelli. And thanks for taking me
down there today, too."

"You know you don't have to thank me. Call
me tomorrow. I want details!"

Alana went into her bathroom to check in the
mirror one more time. She and Kelli were best friends, would do
anything for each other, but they really didn't think alike when it
came to men. Kelli was always trying to 'catch a good man', but
Alana truly believed that when she met the right guy, he'd like her
for who she was. She wasn't about to try to catch anyone by
pretending to be someone she wasn't. When two people were meant to
be together, it just sort of worked for them.

John went home to take a quick shower before
his impromptu dinner date. He couldn't seem to stop thinking about
Alana. She was a cute little bundle of contradictions. She was a
small, petite lady, but had a big personality. When he first met
her, she seemed rather shy, but she wasn't afraid to speak her
mind. She seemed pretty easy going, but yet seemed to have a rather
quick temper. It seemed pretty apparent to him that she had a mind
of her own, had an opinion on most things, and no one was going to
walk all over her.

To sum it up, she was a feisty little lady
that had a head full of beautiful red curls, and the temper to go
along with them. But she also had a wonderful sense of humor and
seemed to have a quick wit. And she was from Ireland and had an
accent he could listen to all day. She smiled as he remembered her
confusion when he warned her about her language. He found himself
very much looking forward to dinner tonight.

Checking his watch, he dressed and hurried
to his car. Punctuality was important to him, and if she were the
old-fashioned girl she claimed to be, and he suspected she was, it
was important to her, as well.

Alana had just come back from checking the
mirror one last time when her doorbell rang. She opened the door
for John and stood staring at him. He wore casual khaki pants and a
polo shirt, but there was suddenly nothing casual about her
heartbeat. She might have been too nervous to notice him earlier,
but she definitely noticed him now! And he filled out that shirt
nicely!

Alana had always been drawn to what she
thought of as "real men." Broad shoulders, strong, charismatic. Not
the skinny, wimpy stick figures she always seemed to attract. She
thought of him riding around in cars giving driving tests all day
and knew his muscular physique didn't come from that. A wild vision
of him lifting weights in the back room between driving tests
suddenly popped into her head and she giggled before she could stop
herself. At the same time, she was horrified to realize she'd been
staring at his chest, and just how well he filled out his
shirt.

His eyebrows shot up. "Good evening, Alana.
You look beautiful. What's wrong—do I have something on my
shirt?"

SHE tore her eyes away from his broad chest
and brought her giggle under control. "No, you're fine. I'm sorry."
She gestured with her arm and stepped back. "Please, come on
inside."

He stepped through the doorway, and she
closed it behind him.

"What was so funny?" he pressed.

"I'm sorry, John. I just had this funny
image pop into my head as I opened the door. I'm sorry I laughed,
that was very rude. Please forgive me."

Smiling a bit, he asked, "What was the funny
image?"

Her face flamed again as she said, "Oh,
nothing."

Curious now, he said, "Your face is too red
for it to be nothing. What was the image?"

"You'll think I'm crazy."

"No, I won't. Try me," he coaxed.

"Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you. You
look really nice in that shirt," she began. "But I wondered how you
can be so muscular giving driving tests all day. I pictured you
going in the back room and lifting weights between road tests."

John chuckled at her words. "I don't really
work there, giving driving tests all day. I was moonlighting. You
like the shirt, though?"

His lighthearted banter helped to break some
of the tension of a first date. She patted his sleeve, trying to
ignore the zing that shot through her at the contact. "Yes. It
looks very nice on you. So, what do you do for a living? Something
that keeps you in such good shape, or do you work out a lot?"

"I'm a police officer," he answered
quietly.

Her eyes opened wide as she said, "You're
part of The Guard?"

"The Guard?"

"Sorry. That's what they call police
officers in Ireland."

"Have you recently moved here?"

"No, I've been here since I was twelve."

"You still have the strong accent. I thought
maybe you were new to this country."

"No, not really. And actually, there are
very few things I still use the Irish names for. Police officers
are one because my father was a member of The Guard." Alana grabbed
her purse and a light sweater, and John opened the door. He took
her elbow and escorted her out to his car. Still, he continued
their conversation without interruption. "So your dad was a police
officer in Ireland before you moved here?"

"Yes, he was." She turned quiet for several
moments before continuing. "But he got sick and died. We didn't
really have any family left there, so when the company mum worked
for opened up an office over here, they asked her if she'd come
help run it, and here we are."

John took her hand and gave it a squeeze,
before opening the car door for her. "I'm sorry to hear about your
dad. It must have been hard to lose your father when you were that
young. It sounds like you were proud of him."

"I was," she quickly answered. "And I loved
him."

He reached across her to snap her seatbelt.
Then he walked around to the driver's side and did his own belt as
well. "Then to move to another country had to have been
challenging."

"Yeah, it was a bit," she agreed. "But we
made it."

"That you did. You and your mother should be
proud of yourselves."

"We were." She gave him a brief smile, then
she sobered again. "My mum was killed in an accident a couple years
ago."

He reached over to give her hand another
squeeze. "It sounds to me like you've been through more than a lot
of people experience in a lifetime. I'm really sorry, Alana."

"I think things happen for a reason. I think
my mum and pop missed each other tremendously, and now because of
that accident, they're together again. I think that's why it
happened after I was finished with college."

John patted her hand, then started the
engine. Alana was silent, as she tried to gather her thoughts. "I'm
sorry," she said, shaking her head as though the simple action
would also clear the air. "I shouldn't have burdened you with all
that. I don't know what got into me. I don't normally tell people
that, and here I am blurting it all out the moment I meet you. I'm
sorry."

He took his eyes off the road briefly as he
gave her a sweet smile. "You don't have anything to apologize for,
Alana. I've been told I'm a good listener, so anytime you want to
talk, I'll be happy to listen. I take it as a compliment that you
feel comfortable enough with me to tell me these things. I'm glad
you did, I feel like I know you better now."

"Will you tell me about yourself so I know
you, too?"

He pulled into the parking lot of a family
restaurant. “Let's go in and order some dinner. Then I'll tell you
anything you want to know."

Alana approved of the restaurant he had
chosen. It was nice, clean, and respectable, but not too expensive
or romantic for a first date. She grabbed her purse to get out of
the car, but was startled when he told her to wait. She looked over
at him, but he got out of the car before she could ask why. He was
at her door an instant later, opening it and helping her out. With
his hand on her back, he led her into the restaurant. Almost
immediately a hostess showed them to their table and John helped
her with her chair.

He sat down across from her and noticed her
happy expression. "What's the smile for?"

"You want the truth?"

"Absolutely. I always want the truth," John
said.

He looked serious, rather stern, and she
felt a tingle run through her. "I'm not exactly sure. I'm not used
to such manners." Then she looked into his eyes, the smile replaced
with sincerity. "But I like it."

"Good. I'm glad you do, because my mother
raised me this way and I'm not sure I could change now if I wanted
to."

"I hope you never do. Not many men have such
manners any more."

"I'm just an old fashioned man, I
guess."

"Nothing wrong with that," she said. "My
friend, Kelli, says I was born about a hundred years late. She
keeps telling me I need to catch up with the times."

"It sounds like we might get along just
fine," he said, with a hopeful look in his eyes.

Over dinner he told her about himself, as he
had promised. He said that while he was in college getting his
criminal justice degree, he took the training to give driver's
license examinations for the state, and worked there while in
school. He still filled in for them now and then if they need help
and it fit in with his schedule.

She also learned that although he and his
brother Cal grew up close by, their parents now lived in Arizona,
which was better weather for their mother's arthritis. He'd always
wanted to be a police officer, and hoped eventually to make
detective.

"So what do you do, Alana, and how have you
survived living in Pennsylvania without a driver's license?"

"I work for an event planner."

"What do you do there?"

"I answer phones and do the scheduling and
miscellaneous things. To answer your other question, I take the bus
or a cab everywhere I go. If I can ever manage to get my license,
I'm going out on my own as an event planner."

"A license is all that's holding you
back?"

"Yes. Marilyn, the lady I work for, is ready
to retire. I think she would have already except for me. She lets
me basically do it all except the legwork. You have to go and check
on a lot of things in person, see what they look like, things like
that, and pick things up and deliver them. I get everything set up,
and she does the delivery and drop offs. We usually go together to
look at the site and things."

"So all you need is your license. How long
have you been trying to get it?"

"I graduated from college two years ago. I
knew what I wanted to do, but I didn't have any money to buy a car,
so I did the next best thing. I went to work for Marilyn."

"That was a good idea."

"I found this apartment that's close enough
I can walk to work. It's a small apartment, but it's cheap enough
that I've been able to save money for a car. Once I got enough for
a down payment, I got my permit. My friend, Kelli, drove me there
today and has been my licensed driver. She lets me use her car to
practice, and to take my test. I've tried twice now, but you saw
how it went."

"Yeah, I did. Did Kelli teach you how to
drive, or has someone else been working with you?"

"That's part of my problem. Kelli's been
trying, but she keeps saying she's no teacher, and I really
appreciate her effort and she's my best friend and all, but she's
right, she's not much of a teacher. She tells me what I did wrong
after I did it instead of before."

"That explains some of the things I had to
count you down for today."

"Probably. Like what?"

"When you stopped at the stop sign, you were
too far back. You need to stop closer to the intersection so you
can see oncoming traffic better."

"I was afraid the front of my car would be
out in the intersection."

"No, you need to be closer. That's where it
helps to have someone telling you these things as you're learning.
The same way with your turn signal. You turned them on too far back
from where you were turning."

"I did?"

"Yes, you did."

She thought a few moments before saying,
"Then I could take the test a bunch of times and still not pass
because those are things I didn't know I was doing wrong."

"The other time you took the test and didn't
pass, did the examiner tell you what you did wrong?"