Brock had called to say he would be here any minute to start teaching her to drive. She’d had a couple of lessons before her mother got sick and two or three while she was sick, but Sammy hadn’t liked leaving her mother in case she felt worse while Sammy wasn’t there. It was only days after her mother died that she met Greg, and he’d made it clear he didn’t want her to drive and he thought women drivers were menaces. The doorbell rang, and Sammy grabbed her handbag and partly skipped to the door. She wasn’t going to let Greg win anymore. Sammy would learn to drive. Brock stood on the other side of the door in his usual black clothes. Sammy wondered if he had any items of clothing that weren’t black and if Brock’s five o’clock shadow was permanent. “You ready, angel?” Sammy pulled her handbag further up on her shoulder and straightened her shoulders. “As ready as I’ll ever be.” Brock took her hand a walked her to a black Commodore. He opened the passenger side, and she got in as he walked around to the driver’s side. He got in his seat, put his seatbelt on, and started the car.
