Ally was doing well. She hadn’t had much experience behind the wheel yet, other than the parking lot sessions we’d had fun with before she’d officially gotten her learner’s permit.

But this was the real thing. Roads and traffic. Everything was faster and needed to be more precise.  

But, she really was doing well when we pulled into the tight parking lot of our favorite farm store- Kauffman’s.  Homegrown apples, stellar baked goods… Places like this are why we love living in Lancaster County.

So Ally pulled into an angled space, with a car to our right and an empty spot on our left.  We got out, and headed into the store. It was a beautiful, sunny Saturday and Kauffman’s attracted both locals and tourists- everyone was out and about that day.

By the time we came outside with our apples and treats, there were cars parked in either space beside us. Ally was nervous.

“Dad, I can’t do this. You’ll have to back the car out.”

“Nah- you’re fine! I’ll coach you and it’ll be good practice.  It’s not as tight as it looks.”

Ally was skeptical but encouraged enough to give it a go.  She had a car on either side.  The store was actually only several feet behind us, so she couldn’t back straight out of the space without making the place a literal drive through market.  She’d have to back out at an angle, while being careful not to hit either of the parked cars beside us.

It was a little tight.

“Just come straight back at first.” I said.“Then turn the wheel to your left, but be careful that our back end doesn’t get too close to theirs.”  

“Ok”. She sounded nervous but determined.

“We’ll have to watch our front left too, if you turn too hard, we’ll hit the car on our right.”

“Oh man…”

“It’s fine! “You’re good- just go slow.”

She did go slow, and was doing pretty well. But, we weren’t out of the woods yet and she was getting more nervous.

“Dad, can you watch the front? I can’t pay attention to the front and the back together.”

“Sure!”

A bit relieved, Ally moved in reverse again and cranked the wheel- more than I was expecting.  I spun my head around to see what was going on with the rear left. When I did, I heard that scraping, crunching sound that nobody in a car likes to hear.

“Shit! Shit! Dammit!” Ally was entering the panic zone.  Tears were welling up fast.

I looked forward toward the sound, and saw our right front bumper against the back left side of the car to our right.

“It’s ok.” I said. “Let’s look at it.”

“No. I’m not getting out.” She was holding back tears.

I got out alone and took a look, stepping accidentally into the path of the other car’s owners as they exited the store; each carrying several bags full of Lancaster County goodness.

I started to apologize and explain, but they cut me off.

“Nah- you’re fine!” they said. “Look- there’s hardly any damage.” 

Ally had gotten out after all and we both looked at the stranger’s car, expecting to see something much worse than we did. There was just a long but slight mark along the side of the car, mostly above the tire. It looked to be the type of mark that could be buffed out by an amateur with no real tools, like I’d actually done once or twice before.

What the mark lacked in damage, it made up for with the sound it made during its birth.

“She’s on her learner’s permit.” I said.

“It’s all good! We’re from New York- stuff like this happens everyday. We got cars rubbing all over the place up there- that’s how we learn.” He looked at Ally, smiled genuinely, and said, “It’s ok honey- don’t worry about it.”

Wow!

Turns out the guys from New York were in the area sightseeing for the weekend, visiting the farmland and smelling our “not-always-fresh” country air. After a few minutes of small talk and travel tips, we all got in our cars to head out.

But Ally didn’t want to drive anymore.

Ever.

Despite how everything had turned out with the New Yorkers and despite her being a relative newbie behind the wheel, she claimed to be done driving for the foreseeable future; maybe forever.

“Come on!” I said. “ It’s no big deal. Those guys didn’t even care! I’ll finish backing out here, then we can drive towards Gap, where there’s less traffic and you can get your confidence back.”

“Nope. I’m done. I don’t want to learn to drive anymore.”

She looked ready to cry again.

So we switched places. I took the driver seat and backed the car out into a more manageable spot in the lot. But I didn’t want her to stop driving, letting the bad feelings of our bumper-scrape soak into her young psyche.

“You know, Ally, this really wasn’t your fault.”

“What do you mean?”

“I told you I would watch the front of the car while you watched the back.  But I looked back for a second, and that’s when you hit the other car- with our front.”

“Really? That’s when I hit them?” 

“Yep- when I looked away from my spot.”

It was working- her mood was changing quickly.

“So, I guess you’re right?” Ally said. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Nope.”

“It’s actually all your fault because you didn’t do what you said you were going to do!” She sounded relieved and confident, and her tone had a mildly scolding quality. 

“Yep.”

“It’s not my fault then! I’m still a good driver and I didn’t cause an accident.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“Nope. It was me.”

“Yeah- you’re right! Ok- can I drive again?”

“Sure!”

Ally got back behind the wheel. She drove out of the tight parking lot and down the road.

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