Learning to Drive, part one

One breezy Wednesday afternoon, Leta was sitting on the front porch darning some of her husband Bob’s socks. She had finished most of her housework for the day and had been sitting in her favorite rocking chair for fifteen minutes. She liked the light of being outside, but the wind was chilly, and she had not put on a sweater. While the sun provided good lighting for her work, even popping in and out from behind a chain of cumulus clouds that chugged across the sky, it withheld the warmth that would have made her time on the porch more comfortable.

She was chilled. She needed to start cooking supper. She needed a cup of coffee. She stood and started to gather her materials. As the street had been quiet for some time, she felt as much as saw the automobile approaching. The driver was moving cautiously, but steadily.

It looks like Ed’s car, she said to herself, but she knew that her son-in-law was still at work. Yet her own curiosity kept her gaze as the auto continued. She became more interested when the vehicle seemed to be going slower as it neared. Still holding her sewing materials and three pairs of recently darned stocks, Leta moved to the edge of the porch. The view didn’t change all that much, but she felt closer to the activity.

The vehicle stopped in front of her house. It sure looked like her son-in-law’s car. The sun had just reappeared, reflecting off the shiny exterior and darkening the windows, so all she saw of the driver was a shadowy figure. The door opened, and she leaned forward even more. The driver stood, and then Leta stepped back. The driver was her daughter Vivian!

Vivian waved. Leta responded in kind, but weakly as she was very startled.

“Hi, Ma!” her daughter said as she approached the sidewalk up to the porch.

“Saint’s alive,” Leta gasped. “you drove here?”

Vivian smiled.

“When did you learn how to drive?” Leta questioned.

“Ed taught me,” Vivian answered. “He’s been teaching me for a few weeks. Today is my first day driving by myself.”

Leta had never anticipated such a thing. While she knew of a couple of women who drove automobiles, they were rare. Neither she nor any of her sisters or sister-in-law knew how to drive, although her sister Louise had been talking about learning.

“Mother?” Vivian inquired gently. Leta was so startled that she lost track of her senses for a few moments.

“Oh yes,” Leta said, still disconcerted but functional. “I was just about to go inside. Come with me.”

They both took one look at the automobile parked on the street, and then went into the house. Leta put her sewing on a chair, and they proceeded into the kitchen for a cup of a coffee.

“How long has this been going on?” Leta asked. “I can hardly believe it.”

“Ed’s been teaching me for a few weeks now,” Vivian answered. He first taught me about the controls, and then I began to practice, driving around our neighborhood. A few days ago I got my license.”

She opened her purse and produced the piece of paper testifying to her ability to operate the vehicle.

“And you didn’t tell me?” Leta pressed after examining the document.

“I wanted to surprise you,” Vivian answered, unsuccessfully holding back a smile.

“Well, you most certainly did.” Then she sighed loudly. “Saint’s alive, my daughter is driving a motorcar.”

“It’s actually a good thing, Ma,” Vivian said. “It allows me to run errands during the day and do other things, like visit you.”

“What about Ed?”

“I take him to work in the morning, and pick him up at the end of the day. Not every day, just one here and there. Believe me, I don’t want to be driving all the time. But if you need me to, I can take you places, too.”

“But I have Bob and the streetcar when I need it,” Leta said.

‘Of course, you do,” Vivian said. “And now you have me, too.”

For the next hour, the two chatted about driving, home life, sewing and many other things that both would forget about almost immediately. Then, with Leta watching from the sidewalk, Vivian got into the vehicle, started it, turned it around, and proceeded down the street. Leta heart was beating hard, and once Vivian started, she realized she had forgotten to tell her daughter to be careful on the bridge across the river. She took a few awkward and anxious steps toward the vanishing automobile, but quickly realized it was too late. Leta spent the rest of the evening in a light state of nervousness until she finally telephoned her daughter to make sure the young woman arrived home safely. She had and was just about to eat her supper with Ed.

When her own husband asked how her day went, Leta reported the news. Robert was less surprised than she expected, but then again, he was never the old fashioned sort.

“Good for her,” he said with a touch of pride.

To be continued.