The Bookish Life of Nina Hill - Abbi Waxman Page 0,89
large space out back, where there were several garages with locked doors. He opened the middle one, and there she was: Nina’s car.
Nina turned to Moltres. “Did you know that David Hasselhoff holds a Guinness World Record as the most watched man on TV?”
He gazed at her. “No,” he said.
“Yes,” she continued. “He was already successful from being on a soap opera, but Knight Rider was really the beginning for him.”
“Is that so?” said Moltres. “How completely uninteresting.”
Moltres walked around and opened the driver’s side door. “Want to take it out?”
Nina shook her head. “Uh . . . I can’t drive stick.”
He was disappointed in her already, and that didn’t help. Nina realized it was like admitting you can’t swim or ride a bike; not really disastrous, just one of those life skills one is supposed to have acquired by nearly thirty. Oh well, she thought, for the record I can both swim and ride a bike, so two out of three isn’t bad. She could also knit and crochet, so after the apocalypse, he’d be able to drive a manual transmission but she’d have a scarf, so who’d be laughing come winter?
Moltres sat in the driver’s seat and turned on the engine. It was loud, really very loud, and Nina could see how throaty purr had come into play. She guessed Moltres was willing to drive. She went around and got into the passenger side, and they slowly pulled out of the garage.
Moltres, unsurprisingly, turned out to be not exactly a Chatty Cathy. He did, however, have some questions.
“Your dad never taught you to drive stick?”
“I never met my dad.”
Moltres looked over at her, quickly. “Really? And yet he left you his favorite thing?”
“I thought his favorite thing was money.”
Moltres shook his head. “No.”
Nina shrugged. “Is it that rare not to know how to drive a stick? Aren’t the vast majority of cars in this country automatics?”
Moltres shrugged, weaving around a small fender bender in the middle of the intersection. Nina looked at it, as everyone does. She could tell an experienced LA driver by the speed with which she pulled out her license and proof of insurance, took photos of the mutual damage, if any, and got on her way. Soon, she thought, all you’ll have to do is wave your phones at each other, and a drone will appear to photograph everything before the lights have changed. You won’t even need to get out of your car, which, by that point, you probably won’t even be driving. Then she realized Moltres had asked her something.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear the question . . .”
He rolled his eyes. “I asked why you didn’t know your father.”
She looked at him. “Really? You jumped straight from criticizing my driving knowledge to asking me personal questions about my family?”
His mouth twitched. “You’re a fascinating mix of spacey and sassy. You totally aren’t paying attention and then you whip around and let out a zinger.”
“Well, you’re very nosy.”
He sighed. “Look, I knew your dad for over twenty years. He never mentioned you once. No offense.”
“None taken. I never mentioned him, either. Mind you, he knew I existed, and I didn’t have that advantage so, you know, reasonable excuse.” Nina looked at Moltres. “What did he talk about?”
“Cars,” Moltres said. “Always cars.” He swung the car around a corner, which it hugged like a long-lost friend. “He was good company.” He shot a glance at Nina. “Sorry.”
Nina looked at him, then out of the window. “What for?” she said. “It’s not like my life would have been better if I’d had more car-related conversation.”
Moltres said, “But maybe he would have taught you to drive stick.”
“Or maybe he would have deserted me like he did his other kids. I’m the only one he didn’t leave, because he was never there in the first place.” She looked for a button to lower the window. “Honestly, I think I may have dodged a bullet.”
Moltres shook his head as they headed up Laurel Canyon toward the winding roads at the top of the Hollywood Hills. “He was a good guy, Bill was. I’ll miss him.”
“Story of his life,” Nina said, leaning out and letting the wind toss her hair.
Moltres was silent for a while, then abruptly turned left and pulled into a wide-open parking lot that was essentially empty. He stopped the car and turned to Nina.
“I’m going to teach you to drive stick.”
Moltres began the lesson by introducing Nina to her newest little friend, the clutch