Kelsey
As nice as Scott had been yesterday, he was the complete opposite today as we were on the wet roads of Seattle, driving to the East side with him in the passenger seat. He gave new found meaning to the term ‘back seat driver’ by barking out directives on my driving.
“You need to go wider on that turn. Check your mirrors. Watch how you pump the brakes. If you wear them out before you hit the pass, you’ll have a runaway truck.”
I gritted my teeth. The bright spot of the morning had been seeing my father who was drinking chicken broth and sipping Sprite and, looking better than he had yesterday. He had a long recovery ahead, but at least his signs were better. He hadn’t been thrilled with me driving his route today, until I’d mentioned Scott would be with me. That seemed to please him immensely. I tried to take the insult in stride. I was a girl, but I could drive a big truck. Hell, I’d grown up around one my whole life. Every summer I would go with my dad driving a semi-truck. He’d coached me through the nuances of driving but never once had my dad grumbled like Sir Barks-A-Lot.
“Jesus, Kelsey, watch your lane. You’re over the line on my side.”
Maybe it was the truck trying to get away from him too.
“I heard that.”
“What?” I glanced over innocently not having realized I’d said the words under my breath.
“I’m only being hard on you because the road conditions aren’t easy. Wet roads are dangerous. Snow around here is treacherous since nobody seems to know what to do in it, and the plows are all environmental and shit with rubber tips, which means they don’t get the slush.”
I smiled as my dad often complained of the same. Welcome to Seattle. Tree huggers paradise. “I’m aware.” I wanted to say it had been months since I’d driven a semi, and to cut me a break. But, I didn’t want to give excuses to support his criticism, even if I did find the set of his jaw sexy, I was more irritated with the way he kept commenting on my driving.
Once in Bellevue, I tried to park at the loading dock. For the record, it only took me two attempts. But Scott made it sound like a monumental error. I was fried, on the verge of hitching back home and trading in my driving credentials for a strippers’ pole. The only problem with that was that I had terrible white girl rhythm, virtually no upper body strength, and it would most likely give my dad another heart attack.
Plus, it was cold outside, and I doubted I would get paid to be in a puffer jacket, twirling around. Which meant I needed to put on my big girl panties and get in the truck with Scott again. It didn’t help that he smelled good. The critical devil really shouldn’t sit near me wearing sexy smelling cologne that made me weak in the knees.
“Ready?”
“Yep,” said lamb to the lion. Okay I was exaggerating and being a bit overdramatic. In my defense I was a twenty-one-year-old girl. It’s what we did. And I’d almost started to believe I’d been too sensitive until he started barking again.
“Did you check your mirrors? Watch this side. You’re cutting it close.”
If his goal was to get me to quit before I started doing solo runs, he was making a very good case for it. But thankfully, traffic cooperated, and we were back at the truck yard before I decided I’d had enough of his criticism and jumped out on I-90, willing to take my chances with a tuck and roll into on-coming traffic.
“You planning to see your dad?” he asked, the minute we jumped down off the truck.
Back to nice guy? What the hell? “Yeah. I thought I’d have dinner with him. Although he’s on a liquid diet and begging for me to sneak him contraband. I told him that’s what got him into this mess. You uh, want to come?”
Because nice guy Scott was actually fun to be around. Back seat driver - AKA boss man, not so much.
He gripped the back of his neck with one hand, checking his watch with the other. “I can’t. I have a thing tonight. Dinner.”
“Right. With Missy.”
His eyes studied mine. “Yeah. But we’ll plan on doing this again tomorrow. You did well.”
That was doing well in his eyes? Here’s hoping I survived tomorrow.
***
After my drive from hell with Scott, I went straight to the hospital. My dad looked much better by the time I arrived. I’d brought some Miso soup for both of us, and he brightened up as if I’d just given him a chocolate sundae. I suppose it seemed exciting compared to the Jell-o or chicken broth he’d been eating.
“How was the drive with Scott today?”
“It was okay. He’s quite verbal with suggestions.”
“Good, good.”
Clearly, he’d missed my sarcasm. Oh well, I didn’t want my complaining to get back to Scott’s dad anyway. It wasn’t as though he was a total dick. Just while driving.
We visited for a couple hours which included a game of Go Fish, since I didn’t know any other card games, and he seemed amused at my suggestion. The doctor came in, a different one this time, who thankfully didn’t think I was too young to hear about my father’s long-term plan. He indicated that Dad might not be able to come home until New Years. It was disappointing, but after the scare of losing him, I’d take any scenario that had him coming home at all.
I said goodbye with a promise to visit tomorrow after my drive. It was easier to get that out of the way first, then come in. Plus, I had promised him beef and barley soup for tomorrow.
Pulling up into my driveway, the first thing I noticed was that Scott’s truck was not parked in his. It shouldn’t bother me, but Missy had been everything that I wasn’t. She was popular, rich and gorgeous. Oh yeah, and she was a bitch. The thought of Scott with someone as calculating as her left me cold. But then again, it wasn’t my business. I told myself I didn’t care.
Which is why checking out of my bedroom window for his truck every fifteen minutes was super annoying. Finally, at ten o’clock, I decided to turn in with visions of Scott staying the night at Missy’s house. If he came to work in yesterday’s clothes, I was kicking him out of the truck.