Page 66

“Melanie will show you how to operate the cash register when you get there,” Arnie added.
Paisley stared at the keys he held in his hand. “What are those?”
“The keys to the truck’s ignition and the rear door.”
“I…uh.” Her eyes widened. “Am I driving the food truck?”
“Melanie doesn’t have a driver’s license.” Arnie scratched his forehead. “You do have a driver’s license, don’t you?”
“Y-yes,” she stammered.
Carlita and her manager exchanged an uneasy glance.
Paisley reached into her pocket, pulled out a pink wallet, and flipped it open.
Carlita studied the driver’s license. It was Paisley, all right. She glanced at the issue date, which was only a couple of months ago. “This is a new license.”
“I just got it.”
“Got it renewed,” Carlita clarified.
“No.” Paisley shook her head. “I recently passed the tests and was issued my license.”
“But you’ve practiced driving and are comfortable behind the wheel?”
Paisley’s eyes slid to the side where the big box truck was parked. “I know how to drive a car. I’ve never driven a truck before.” She hurried on. “I’m sure I can handle it.”
Arnie cleared his throat. “Maybe we should practice driving around the block a time or two.”
“Good idea,” Carlita said. “It will give Paisley a feel for what it’s like behind the wheel.”
Paisley took the keys and climbed the side steps.
Arnie shot his boss a concerned look and reluctantly followed behind.
Carlita stood off to the side. Watching through the front windshield, she could see Arnie and the woman talking. She fired up the motor and shifted into drive.
The truck sat idling for several long moments. Carlita instinctively backed up when the engine revved up. So far, so good.
With Paisley behind the wheel, she and Arnie reached the end of the alley and disappeared around the corner. Less than a minute later, the food truck reappeared, coming at her from the opposite direction.
As they passed by, she noticed the young woman’s expression appeared more relaxed. Paisley stopped at the end of the alley and shifted into park.
Carlita ran to the window. “You’re doing great. I should warn you some of the assigned parking spots are tight. Maybe you should practice backing up.”
“Okay.” Paisley nervously licked her lips and shifted the truck in reverse. She tapped the gas. The truck lurched backward.
Carlita jumped out of the way, watching in horror as the vehicle careened left.
Crunch.
Someone yelled loudly. It was Arnie. Before Carlita could run over to see what had happened, she hit the gas. Gravel flew from the rear tires and pelted the side of the dumpster.
Through the windshield, Carlita locked eyes with Paisley’s terror-filled ones. She gritted her teeth, watching helplessly as her food truck swerved toward Elvira’s work van parked alongside her building.
Screech. Carlita looked away, praying a collision had miraculously been averted. Bracing herself, she shifted her gaze. The food truck sat at the end of the alley idling. Seconds later, Arnie and a shaking Paisley exited.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hit your dumpster.”