“For twenty-two mornings. Because I asked her to stop.”
“I know how it sounds.”
“It sounds like being told not to do something made her more committed to doing it.”
“Yes,” he said. “That’s accurate.”
I thought about this for a moment.
“Why?”
Paul hesitated. He looked at the ground briefly, then at me.
“Her father,” he said. “He was a difficult man. Controlled everything in their house. Denise learned very early that if someone tells you what to do, giving in means losing. Means they have power over you.”
Ezoic
I absorbed this.
“I’m genuinely sorry she had that childhood,” I said.
“But?” he said.
“But Oliver is six years old. He sat in that car every morning wondering if he’d done something wrong because his name was on the late register. He is not responsible for what Denise’s father was like.”
Paul’s shoulders dropped. “No.”
“And my driveway isn’t a stand against authority. It’s a driveway.”
“You’re completely right,” he said. “I should have said something sooner. I’m sorry.”
He told me he had already arranged for their driveway to be widened. Apparently the angle had been a source of irritation since they moved in, and the penalty notices had prompted a conversation about finally dealing with it properly. It would take three or four weeks.
In the meantime, he had told Denise she could use the legal roadside spaces or park behind him and move after he left for work.
Ezoic
“Will she?” I asked.
He gave a small, humorless smile. “She will now.”
He was right.
Denise never parked across my driveway again.
For several months she didn’t look at me when we happened to be outside at the same time, which I respected as a form of restraint on her part and which suited me fine. I didn’t need friendship. I needed a usable driveway, and I had one.
