A little after midnight, two police officers knocked on my door and asked to speak to my 15-year-old daughter, Lily.

Checking mirrors.

The first few lessons were quiet. She was too careful, too stiff, as if the steering wheel might accuse her if she made one mistake.

Then one Saturday morning, after she completed the world’s most cautious three-point turn, she looked over and said, “I’m a better driver than Aunt Jenna.”

I laughed so hard I had to wipe my eyes.

She grinned.continue reading …