I get it,she replied. But it felt intimidating, getting behind the wheel after nearly two years without a car.
Nervous energy filled her chest, clinging to her ribs. She looked at the pretty little CRV and took a deep, deliberate breath in. Then she looked back at Kekoa.
“Maybe you should drive it.”
“I already did.” He tilted his head and looked at her. “It’s safe. We just need to know if you like it.”
“I like it.”
“You won’t know for sure until you drive it.”
“I’m nervous,” she admitted.
“For what?” Kekoa looked baffled.
“I haven’t driven in a long time.”
“What about when you pick Mia up from Hawi?”
“Mostly we carpool with Oakley. Sometimes Halia drives us, or my mom does.” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, feeling chilled despite the warmth of the day. “It’s been years since I had my own car. I know it’s stupid, but it feels scary.”
His look of confusion smoothed itself into something gentler. “It’s not stupid.”
“It is,” she said, frustrated with herself.
She wouldn’t admit it out loud, but her hearing loss played a roll. Even with her hearing aids in, she couldn’t hear sirens until they were right on top of her.
A decade of digs from her ex-husband about whether it was safe for her to drive their daughter around had eroded her confidence bit by bit, so slowly that she had hardly noticed it happening… and then two years without a car had washed away what was left.
Deaf people were good drivers. She knew that. There was no reason that her hearing loss should make her less capable. But with every month that she didn’t drive, the thought of getting behind the wheel again felt scarier.
Kekoa held out the keys. When she didn’t move to take them, he took her hand in his, lifted it, and placed the keys gently in her palm.
“Get back on that horse, Kalama.”
Laurie grinned and got into the car.
Kekoa climbed in on the passenger’s side, and Laurie put her hands on the wheel.
Old insults from her ex-husband rose up in her mind, and she shoved them aside. She closed her eyes and remembered her driving lessons, way back when she was fifteen years old. She had been terrified then, too.
She remembered her dad’s steady encouragement. His unshakable good humor. His unwavering smile.
She remembered what a confident driver she had grown into, how navigating the island had felt as easy as walking. She remembered flying down the saddle road when it first opened, feeling free as a bird beneath those wide-open skies.
She opened her eyes and found Kekoa waiting patiently.
“Okay,” she said. “Let’s go.”
Her confidence returned as soon as they were moving.
It really was just like riding a bike. She got a feel for the gas and the steering wheel – neither stubborn nor overly responsive – and by the time she was off of the bumpy dirt road and onto a smoother street, she felt completely comfortable.
Crowded highways might have brought her anxiety back, but there were none of those here. She pulled onto the mellow local highway and coasted south towards Pahoa. Then she turned around and drove north again, her spirits soaring as high as the clouds that raced above them on a strong breeze.
She and Kekoa hadn’t spoken at all during the drive – comfortable as she felt, she wasn’t ready to take her eyes off the road for even a second – but once she had parked back where they started, she turned to him and squeezed his hand.
“I guess I needed a push. Thank you. I appreciate you.”
